Ethan knew that every time I died, I would come back to life. So, after that landslide, he didn't hesitate to cut out my heart to save his first love. When he took my hollowed-out body from the doctor's hands, he whispered, "You'll be fine after a nap." But he didn't know—that was my last life. 1 Ethan carried my corpse into the basement of the Search and Rescue base. My internal organs had been harvested; I was nothing but an empty shell. My face, however, was still rosy, as if I were merely sleeping. He opened the cryonic preservation pod with practiced ease, his movements clean and efficient. When he placed me inside, his hands were steady. There wasn't a shred of hesitation. "Just sleep for a while," his voice was terrifyingly calm. "Didn't you say it doesn't matter if you die?" Yesterday was our wedding anniversary. I had prepared a table full of dishes and bought his favorite red wine. Seeing him come home on time for once, I was happy as a fool. He had just raised his glass when the phone rang. It was his lieutenant: "Captain, Bella ran into a landslide during the mountain patrol. She's trapped..." His hand trembled. The glass shattered on the floor, dark red wine splashing onto my new dress like blood. "How bad is it?" His voice was already hoarse. "Critical. Internal organs..." He didn't wait for the rest. He grabbed his jacket and rushed out. I grabbed his hand. "I'll go too. I can help." He looked back at me. His gaze was complex—not filled with concern, but with calculation. When we arrived, she had been pulled out, but her heart was severely damaged. She needed a transplant immediately. He looked at Bella, his unconscious first love lying on the stretcher, his fingers trembling. That tremor was a panic I had never seen in him before. Then, he looked at me. His eyes were bloodshot. "I'm sorry," he said. Before I could process what he meant, I felt a sharp pain in the back of my neck. Before I lost consciousness, I saw him nod to the doctor. Turns out, they had prepared for this. When I was wheeled into the operating room, something strange happened. It felt like my soul floated out of my body. I hovered in mid-air, witnessing everything. I saw him standing right next to the operating table. When the doctor's scalpel sliced open my chest, he watched expressionlessly. There was no ripple of emotion in his eyes, as if my body were nothing more than a tool to be used. "Her organs are in perfect condition, and the match is compatible," the doctor's voice sounded distant. "It's enough to save Captain Bella." I watched my own heart being taken out, placed in a cooler, and rushed to the adjacent operating room. He followed the cooler out, not sparing me a single backward glance. After he placed me in the cryo-pod, he sat nearby processing paperwork, occasionally glancing up at me. I floated in front of him, searching his eyes for a trace of guilt. But his gaze passed right through my soul, landing on his phone. A text from the doctor: The surgery was successful. She is recovering well. He smiled—a relieved, happy smile. He tossed my medical file aside and left the basement. On the open page of the file, it clearly read: "Organ Donor: Voluntary." He didn't even bother to invent a lie. He thought I would wake up soon anyway. But he didn't know that this time, I would never wake up. Because the extra life I had—the one that allowed me to resurrect—had already been used up the last time I saved his teammate. 2 It’s true. I had the ability to resurrect. Three years ago, before I was pulled from the wreckage of a plane crash as the sole survivor, a voice in the darkness told me I had been granted three lives. The first life, I used on myself to survive that crash. Ethan was the rescue captain who came to the scene. He was tall, his dark blue uniform pressed and sharp. Standing before the wreckage, he was surrounded by a cold aura, like a general from a bygone era. I was curled up on the stretcher, shivering. He turned his profile toward me, his jawline tense and defined. When those dark eyes swept over me, it felt like he could see through my soul. "Don't be afraid," he said. "You're safe now." His voice was deep and soothing, like warm water pouring into my heart. In that moment, I fell for him. The voice in the darkness had told me: If you maintain a marriage with your destined one for three years, you can stay in this world forever. Looking at this cold, handsome man, I decided to gamble. This was the first time twenty-eight-year-old Sarah truly wanted something with such determination. Ethan looked to be in his early thirties. Years of training gave him a lean, powerful build. He walked with a distinct rhythm, a habit from his military days. Every time I passed the rescue base, I could recognize his back instantly. I began to approach him as an ordinary woman. I delivered coffee to the base every day, brought late-night snacks for the team working overtime. I knew I looked desperate, like a sad puppy, but I didn't care. They said Ethan never accepted gifts from women, but he took my coffee. He was always polite but distant. The team felt sorry for me, saying I was blind to reality. "Captain never gives any woman hope. Don't waste your time." But what I didn't tell them was that every time I pretended to stumble, he was always the first to catch me. He would say "be careful," but his hand would linger. Until one day, I heard him on the phone calling a woman "Bells," his tone dripping with affection. It was his former lieutenant, Bella. Rumor had it they were childhood sweethearts. Bella was beautiful. Everyone said they were a match made in heaven. I should have backed off then. But I still had two lives left. I was young and headstrong, thinking I could surely last three years. If I had known my second life would be used to save his teammate, and my third life would be ended by his own hands, I would have run far away from the start. Unfortunately, love makes you blind. 3 Bella was Ethan's partner back in the Special Forces. Everyone in the rescue team knew they used to be the best sniper and spotter duo. On the battlefield, a spotter and sniper need a connection so deep they can practically read each other's minds to complete the mission. So after discharging, Ethan and Bella joined the rescue team together, moving with the sync of a single person. I once secretly looked through Ethan's old photo albums. In the photos, Bella wore a uniform, her eyebrows raised in high spirits—a heroic elegance I, an ordinary woman, could never achieve. And Ethan stood beside her, looking down at her with such tenderness. Later, the team told me Ethan had chased Bella for five full years. From boot camp to special ops, from drills to actual combat, everyone thought they would end up together. But Bella rejected him in the end. "We aren't right for each other. You deserve better." She said this right before a mission. Ethan was the one loading her magazines. They remained the best partners, acting as if nothing happened. But in the dead of night, Ethan would go to the shooting range alone, firing until his fingers bled. Later, Bella applied for a transfer to a remote border rescue unit. The day she left, Ethan stood outside the airport, watching her back disappear through security. His fingers unconsciously rubbed a ring he never got the chance to give her. The team said that was the most broken they had ever seen him. I met Ethan six months after Bella left. He was like a pool of stagnant water then. Even his smiles were cold. But I didn't care. I thought time would wash away the past. "He's never had room in his eyes for anyone else. You think he's gentle? That's professional habit. Doesn't matter if it's you or a supermodel, he takes the flowers with a smile and throws them in the trash the moment he turns around." An old team member told me this. They didn't want to see me humiliate myself. But I didn't believe it. I told myself the past is the past. Even if I was just a sequel to someone else's story, I accepted it. Even the base nurse couldn't stand it: "Sarah, why don't you get it? The Captain visits the border every year to see Bella. They are separated by thousands of miles, but their bond is deeper than any day you spend next to him." I really didn't understand. I didn't understand why Ethan agreed to date me, or why he married me. Thinking back now, perhaps from the day I used my second life to save his teammate, he had been planning this. 4 The rescue that changed everything happened in my second year knowing Ethan. Heavy rains caused a landslide, burying a village. Ethan led the charge, with his childhood friend and teammate, Mike, covering the rear. No one noticed the boulder teetering above. "Ethan!" Mike's voice cut through the rain. The moment he shoved Ethan aside, the boulder crashed down. "NO!" Ethan tried to rush into the rubble like a madman, held back by three teammates. Back at the base courtyard, he knelt in the rain, shaking like a wounded beast. That was the first time I saw him lose control. The always calm and collected Ethan could be this desperate. Mike was his brother in everything but blood. They enlisted together, joined special ops together, and retired together. When Mike was pulled out, his heart had stopped. The doctor said even if he was revived, he needed a heart transplant, and the treatment would cost at least $800,000. "Please, you have to save him." Ethan gripped the doctor's hand, his voice raspy. "I'll get the money. Whatever it takes." But he had only recently retired; his savings went to his mortgage. The team pooled money, but it was barely a fraction. I watched him pace the hospital corridor, eyes red, looking like he hadn't slept in days. "It should have been me," he kept repeating. "Why did he save me?" In that moment, my heart ached so much I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stand it anymore. "I can donate my heart," I walked in and said. "I'm a perfect match for Mike." Ethan jerked his head up. "Are you crazy?" His voice cracked. "You'll die!" I smiled at him and whispered in his ear, "Trust me. I have a superpower. I won't die." He didn't agree, but I went behind his back and did the surgery. I donated my heart to Mike, and my liver and kidney to a wealthy man's daughter. The wealthy man transferred $800,000 to Ethan's account. Three days later, I woke up. When I opened my eyes, Ethan was guarding my bedside. He hadn't slept in three days. Dark circles bruised his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to leave. "You're awake," his voice was rough as he carefully held my hand. "Does it hurt?" That was the first time I saw him look so gentle. Mike recovered quickly, and Ethan began visiting me frequently. He peeled apples for me, fed me water, his gaze so focused it made my heart tremble. Sometimes when I feigned sleep, I felt him gently kiss my forehead. He started telling me his stories—childhood pranks with Mike, the grueling tests in special ops, and how terrified he was of losing people he cared about. When he spoke, his eyes were tender, but they hid something I couldn't read. Later, he proposed. I nodded, tears streaming down my face. He kissed them away and held me tight. Later, I applied to work at the rescue base as a contract nurse, just to be by his side. And that was when Bella transferred back to headquarters.
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