Chapter 1

When I died, he was holding another woman in his arms.

The plan succeeded. I will become the pain he can never forget.

“Miss Lewis, here’s your medication. Please take it.”

I accepted the white bottle and thanked the pharmacist.

With sleeping pills, I could finally get some rest.

The plan was ready to begin.

I sat in the taxi, staring at the message Chris Jude had just sent me.

“I’m attending a gala tonight. Won’t be home.”

I knew exactly what kind of gala this was—Wendy Summers' welcome-back party.

Wendy Summers was quite something. She had been with Chris for just one year, yet had him completely wrapped around her finger.

I’d stayed by Chris's side from the age of twenty-one to twenty-seven—six whole years. And still, I couldn’t compete with a single tear from Wendy.

I had lived this life once before.

In the end, Chris married Wendy, and I died on their wedding day.

Mentally broken, I jumped off a building.

I got nothing.

How could I just accept that?

So, I came back—this time to when Chris was nineteen.

In the original timeline, I would have met Chris when he was twenty-one. He had just started his business, and I became his right-hand assistant.

My family preferred boys, while his was shattered.

Two wounded souls, licking each other’s wounds.

For six long years, we even discussed marriage.

But then, Wendy came back.

Not only did she return, but she openly declared her lingering feelings for Chris at the gala.

They rekindled their old flame, and my six years of youth became the collateral.

Nineteen-year-old Chris was still the rich kid of the Jude family, with the world at his feet, dating the prettiest girl—Wendy Summers.

At twenty, his family lost everything. Wendy left the country, and his life took a nosedive.

I knew everything, so I entered his world early.

I didn’t interfere with his relationship with Wendy; this plan needed an executioner, and this year—the one Chris had cherished most—was it.

I watched Chris date Wendy. Watched them hold each other. Watched them kiss.

I saw, with painful clarity, all the sweet memories Wendy once told me about.

For an entire year, my heart soaked in their syrupy romance until it was drenched and rotting.

I waited quietly, biding my time.

When Wendy left the country, I entered Chris's world, armed with genuine love as he fell into despair.

How foolish twenty-year-old Chris was—childish and stubborn. Over and over, he rejected me, waiting for Wendy.

How does that saying go? “Love is long-lasting when it comes from companionship.”

Eventually, Chris accepted me.

I stayed by his side during his darkest year.

After that, things unfolded as I remembered:

He rose from a scrappy entrepreneur to a business tycoon.

From rejecting me to almost proposing.

And then—this gala.

“Miss, we’ve arrived.”

The sound of the horn broke my thoughts.

I picked up my phone, the screen still displaying my chat with Chris.

The last message was from 11:35 AM.

“Do you want me to pick you up? Don’t drink too much, I’m worried about you.”

Chris hadn’t replied.

I stepped out of the car, doing something I had no memory of ever doing.

The plan started here.

Inside the bar, lights flickered.

I spotted Chris immediately, seated with his back to me.

He was dressed in a suit, standing out amidst the quirky outfits surrounding him.

Wendy Summers was right next to him in a black dress. She didn’t fit in with the

crowd either, but at least she matched Chris.

The people sitting around them were all familiar—the same crowd Chris used to hang out with back in his rich-kid days.

I waited a long time, thinking I wouldn’t see anything. Then, suddenly, laughter erupted from across the room.

They were egging them on, loudly.

Wendy stood up and kissed Chris on the lips.

My hand shook as I raised my phone, zooming in and capturing the moment.

I couldn’t see Chris’s expression, but Wendy’s smile was unmistakable.

My hand trembled, my heart clenched painfully.

So, even in the days I knew nothing about, they had shared an unspeakable connection.

Chris seemed to sense something and turned his head.

I quickly pulled my hat down and left.

He didn’t see me.

Back at our place, the emptiness was suffocating.

An empty home never felt good.

I showered and sat on the couch, counting the minutes on the clock.

1:28 AM. The sound of keys turning in the door.

I opened my eyes, still groggy, and rushed into Chris’s arms.

He caught me, patting my head.

His deep voice sounded in my ear.

“Why aren’t you wearing shoes? You’ll catch a cold.”

I cupped his face, gently stroking the spot where Wendy’s lips had been, my voice muffled.

“Where have you been? You were gone so long, and you didn’t reply to my messages.”

He paused but didn’t answer. He simply carried me to the couch and put socks on my feet.

I kicked him lightly in protest.

“Why won’t you say anything?”

He ruffled my hair, as if resigned.

“A very important client. I didn’t drink. My phone was off, so I didn’t see your messages.”

I looked into his eyes, and I was all I could see there.

Chris, you’re lying.

I didn’t press him further and, as always, started playfully teasing him again.