Chapter 1

On our wedding anniversary, my wife slit her wrists in the bathtub, taking her own life to follow her so-called "first love" to the grave.

When I opened her old diary, I was transported back to her 16-year-old self.

And there he was—this so-called "first love"—trying to convince her to tattoo his name on her arm.

I couldn’t hold back my anger. Pulling her behind me, I glared at him.

“You Punk, get lost!”

My wife, Mia, had been battling severe depression for years. Nothing seemed to bring her joy anymore.

But today, on our wedding anniversary, she did something unusual—she said she wanted to have a cake to celebrate.

I was overjoyed, practically rubbing my hands together with excitement as I agreed and rushed out to buy one.

When I came home with a bouquet of roses in one hand and a beautifully decorated cake in the other, I found her lying motionless in the bathtub.

Her body was submerged in a pool of crimson water.

The cake slipped from my hands, smashing onto the floor, just as shattered as the day that was supposed to celebrate our marriage.

I had always known about Mia’s so-called "first love," Ryan. His death had left her devastated, and she fell into a deep depression because of it.

One night, I came home from work to find her numbly pressing a fruit knife against her wrist. For the first time ever, I lost my temper with her.

“Mia, what are you doing?! Ryan’s gone. Are you seriously going to hurt yourself over someone who’s been dead for years?”

Her hand trembled as she dropped the knife, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” she whispered. “I don’t know… I can’t control myself.”

I sighed and pulled her into my arms, gently wiping her cold tears away.

“Don’t be scared,” I said softly. “You’re sick, but I’ll get you the help you need. We’ll get through this together.”

She nodded. She said she’d try.

But in the end, she broke that promise.

While sorting through her things, I found an old pink diary with a small brass lock.

Mia’s parents had spoiled her when she was younger, back when the family was still doing well. They had bought her one of those trendy diaries with a lock to keep her secrets safe.

But as I held it in my hands, the lock fell off on its own, and the pages began flipping wildly, as though carried by an invisible wind.

Finally, they stopped on a page.

April 16th, 2013

"My sixteenth year feels like a never-ending storm, cold and damp, year-round."

Before I could read any further, a blinding white light engulfed me, and I felt myself being sucked into the diary.

A distant, ethereal voice echoed in my ears.

“Save her. Please, save Mia…”

When I opened my eyes, I was sitting in a noisy high school cafeteria.

I was wearing the uniform of Linrose High—Mia’s high school.

Finding a reflective tray, I caught my own reflection. I was 16 again—back in my own teenage body!

Across the cafeteria, I heard a group of students taunting someone.

“Mia, your dad fell off a construction site and died, huh? And now your trashy mom’s working the streets? Heard you’re the one bringing her the bathwater to clean up after her ‘clients,’ huh?”

“Makes sense—a trashy mom and her trashy daughter. You keep hanging around Ryan, helping him with homework. What is it? Trying to advertise yourself?”

The cafeteria went silent as everyone stopped eating to watch the drama unfold.

Mia’s face turned bright red. Her hands shook slightly, but she forced herself to stay calm, chewing her food slowly, pretending not to hear a thing.

The girl who had been mocking her grew angrier at being ignored.

“You little slut!” she snapped, slamming her tray toward Mia.

Mia couldn’t dodge in time, and greasy food splattered all over her school jacket.

Before I could react, a boy with bleached, messy hair stepped forward.

Without a word, he grabbed his own tray and dumped its contents over the girl’s head.

Soup and gravy dripped down her face as she shrieked in outrage.

“Ryan, are you seriously beating someone up over a girl?” A chubby kid pointed an accusing finger at him.Ryan ran a hand through his messy hair, grabbed a Coke bottle, and smashed it against the table. Shards of glass scattered everywhere as the chubby kid touched his forehead, horrified to find blood dripping down.“I’ll beat the crap out of anyone who talks trash about Mia!” Ryan yelled. “If I hear one more word about her, I’ll go after every single one of you, one by one!”

So… Mia’s so-called “first love” was this punk? And she took her own life over him?

Sure, he protected her. But this kind of extreme behavior? It was bound to lead to trouble.

Ryan handed Mia an empty Coke bottle and raised his eyebrows, thinking he looked cool.

“Mia, nice people get walked all over. You’ve gotta hit them where it hurts so they’ll never mess with you again. Here, take this bottle and teach that liar a lesson.”

What? Was this guy seriously encouraging Mia to assault someone? My future wife—kind, gentle, and soft-hearted—absolutely could not be corrupted by this idiot!

Mia hesitated, staring at the bottle in her hand. Her eyes flickered with a dangerous, almost manic light.

As she raised the bottle high over her head, I darted forward and shielded the girl she was about to hit.

The Coke bottle came down hard—right on my back.

Damn, my future wife was way stronger than I thought. That hurt.

The wild look melted from Mia’s eyes, replaced by panic. She dropped the bottle and rushed to me.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Before I could respond, the cafeteria supervisor’s voice boomed across the room.

“Who’s causing trouble in here? Don’t let me catch you!”

Ryan didn’t even wait. He bolted without a word, slipping out the back like the coward he was.

I pointed at Ryan’s retreating figure and said to Mia, “Don’t listen to him. Fighting never solves anything. He hit someone and ran away—do you really want to associate with someone who doesn’t take responsibility for his actions?”

The supervisor stormed over, spitting mad. “Mia, were you the one fighting in here?”

Mia, already burdened by everything happening in her life, lowered her head, ready to take the blame. But I stepped in front of her before she could say a word.

“Sir, look at her. She’s tiny and well-behaved. Do you really think she could’ve been the one fighting?” I kept my tone calm but firm.

“The one causing trouble was some punk named Ryan. He hit someone hard enough to draw blood and ran off in that direction. You should catch him and teach him a lesson.”

The supervisor gave Mia one last sharp look before turning to deal with the injured student. Then, spotting Ryan’s bright blond hair in the distance, he took off at a sprint.

“Nothing to see here. Everyone, get back to your meals,” I said.

The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving Mia standing there, looking at me with wide, uncertain eyes.

“Who… who are you?” she asked softly.

I’m your future husband—the one you left behind, the one you broke.

When I saw your lifeless body, I hated you for it. Hated that you never left a place for me in your heart, that you ended your life over a man who’d been gone for years.

But now, seeing you here, alive and vulnerable, all those feelings melted away.

I just wanted to save you, to change your future. Even if there’s no place for me in it, I want you to be happy.

I smiled and answered sincerely, “Hi, Mia. I’m Brian. It’s nice to meet you again.”

“Brian, thank you for helping me earlier,” she said hesitantly. “But… why did you betray Ryan?”

“He hurt someone. He needs to face the consequences. But what about you? Why are you defending him so much?”

She paused, thinking. Then she said quietly, “Because… he’s the only one in this whole school who doesn’t treat me like I’m dirty.”

I studied her for a moment, then gently reminded her, “Mia, your jacket got stained earlier. You should take it off.”

She hesitated but eventually slid the dirty jacket off her shoulders.

Without missing a beat, I draped my own clean school jacket over her.

“Well, now he’s not the only one. You’re not dirty, Mia. You’re the cleanest, kindest person I’ve ever met.”