Reborn on my wedding day. That’s how it felt. I watched my wife-to-be, Sarah, slip away, saying she needed to touch up her makeup. But I saw her get into a sedan parked just around the corner from the hotel. A few moments later, she came back, eyes red-rimmed, her lipstick smudged, tears glistening. I knew who was in that car. Mark. Her ex-boyfriend she could never quite let go of. I also knew… in five minutes, a car would lose control and speed toward us. In my previous life—the one that felt like it just ended—she pushed me. Right into the path of that speeding car. I died with my eyes wide open. 1. The moment I was hit, everything seemed to shift into slow motion. The piercing screech of brakes, the acrid smell of rubber burning against asphalt, the driver's terrified face reflected in the windshield as it spiderwebbed, the brutal impact tearing at my body— Then, screams from bystanders, the sickening crunch of bone, and the heavy thud as I hit the ground. My mind fogged over. Blood poured out of me like water from a burst pipe, staining the concrete sidewalk red, staining… the velvet ring box clutched in my hand. I blinked, slow, sluggish. Through blurry vision, I saw Sarah. Her back was to me. She was frantically checking Mark, her voice tight with panic, “Are you okay? Did any glass hit you? That car just came out of nowhere—” She stopped mid-sentence, as if finally registering something else. She froze. Slowly, stiffly, she turned. Her eyes scanned the shattered glass on the ground, the spreading pool of blood, and finally landed on me, drenched in it. Her lips trembled. Her perfectly made-up face went blank. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. I stared at that face, a mixture of grief and shock, and hated myself for the flicker of familiar pity, the instinct to comfort her. “Hey, don’t cry…” The whisper died in my blood-filled throat. The next second, Mark pulled her firmly into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Shh, don’t look.” And Sarah wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him with an intimacy that felt like a physical blow. Her choked sobs came muffled against his shoulder, “What do we do? What do we do… I didn’t mean to…” He just held her tighter, murmuring reassurances. Like they were the couple. The ones meant to be. —If only Sarah wasn't wearing the custom wedding dress we’d picked out together. —If only I wasn't the groom waiting for her. The whole scene felt absurd. A sick joke. Amidst the growing chaos of sirens and shouting people, my world faded to black. Silence. My unfinished wedding day. My very complete death day. 2. The flashback hit me like a physical blow, snapping me back to the present. I blinked, seeing Sarah’s sweet, pretty face right in front of me. My bones and muscles ached with phantom pain. I pressed my fingers to my temples, fighting a wave of dizziness. It slowly dawned on me… I was back. Reborn. Reliving it. Right now, Sarah and I were standing at the entrance of the hotel lobby, greeting wedding guests. She was radiant, smiling, the perfect bride. She noticed me staring, lost in thought. Her cheeks puffed out slightly, a faint pink blush rising on her ears. “What are you looking at me like that for? You goofball, spacing out again!” I forced down the panic churning inside me and managed a shaky smile. “Nothing.” But… Sarah’s mind was already elsewhere. She glanced down at a new message on her phone, her expression shifting, becoming restless. I watched her eyes dart towards the street outside, saw her fingers tighten almost imperceptibly. Suddenly, I felt ice-cold calm. Her fidgeting lasted only three minutes. Then, as if she’d made up her mind, she looked up at me, forcing a casual tone. “My face feels a little oily. I’m just gonna pop over and have the makeup artist touch it up.” Before I could reply, she hitched up her wedding dress and started walking quickly towards the exit. Instinctively, I grabbed her wrist. “Don’t rush off. I’ll come with you.” Her hurried expression froze. She bit her lip, then tried for a playful pout. “Silly, I’m getting my makeup fixed. What would you come for? Are we ditching the guests? Forgetting about greeting our relatives?” I took a breath, my grip tightening slightly without meaning to. “Your makeup looks perfect, honey. You don’t need a touch-up.” “Our parents and aunts and uncles will be here soon. And aren't we changing outfits and getting a whole new look after the receiving line anyway? You can get touched up then.” Sarah stomped her foot lightly in frustration, but her attention was immediately snagged by her phone vibrating in her hand. She shot a quick glance at the screen, her face paling. Wrenching her arm free from my grasp, she bolted outside. Without even a word of explanation. I stared down at the polished marble floor of the five-star hotel, silent for a long moment. I knew. That text was from him. Mark. The ex she couldn’t forget. Right now, that struggling musician was sitting in a beat-up sedan around the corner, waiting for her. Struggling or not… it didn’t matter. One short text message, and the woman I’d cherished, spoiled, and loved with everything I had for three years, would drop me without a second thought and run to him. I also knew that in about ten minutes, a car would lose control and crash towards the three of us. And Sarah, desperate to protect the man behind her, wouldn’t hesitate to shove me under its wheels. 3. It took me a year to win Sarah over. We first met at the convenience store where she worked the late shift. The first time I saw her, she had her hair up in a messy bun, her face clean of makeup, naturally pretty with a soft pink glow. She was adorable. Right then, though, she was being yelled at by an older woman pointing a finger right in her face. “Which one of your eyes saw me open this drink? You expect me to pay? Just some broke kid working here, trying to scam people out of money?” Sarah’s round, almond eyes filled with tears, her face flushed bright red. Her voice was small but firm. “I saw… you opened that bottle of coffee…” The older woman glanced towards a corner, clearly a blind spot for the security cameras, and her voice got louder, more confident. “You little liar! Slandering people has consequences, you know that?! I’m going to report you to your manager!” Just as her finger was about to poke Sarah’s nose, I stepped in front of the trembling girl. I held up my phone towards the woman. “Ma’am, I was just testing out the new video features on my phone. Happened to catch you feeling thirsty, twisting the cap off, and drinking half that bottle.” “You must have forgotten after you took that phone call, right? Easy mistake to make.” The woman’s face went through shades of red and white before she finally threw five bucks on the counter and stormed out, embarrassed. The girl wiped her eyes and gave me a small smile, revealing cute dimples. “Thank you so much. My name’s Sarah. Let me buy you a drink.” “Uh, I’m Ethan,” I stammered, caught off guard by her sweet, genuine smile. It felt like a feather had brushed against my heart. Growing up, I wasn’t exactly starved for female attention. I’d gotten my share of crushes and notes. But Sarah… Sarah was the first girl in years who actually made my heart skip a beat. Still, Sarah turned me down when I first asked her out. She explained her situation. An irresponsible younger brother, a father with a gambling problem. Her family wasn't well-off. That's why she was working two jobs, day and night, trying to make ends meet. It had even forced her to break up with her boyfriend. She didn't want to be a burden to anyone. While I wasn't some trust-fund kid, my parents were both university professors. We were comfortable. I’d recently started a company with a few buddies from college, and we’d just secured our first round of angel investment. We were from different worlds. But I was stubborn. Possessed by this need to see it through. Every night, I waited outside the convenience store until her shift ended, insisting on walking her home. After a year, she finally gave in. She agreed to go out with me. 4. As we got closer, I realized that despite her independent streak, Sarah was actually quite hesitant and unsure when it came to emotional decisions. Maybe because she got so little warmth from her own family, she valued relationships intensely. She willingly sacrificed so much for her family, just trying to hold onto that thin thread of connection. But I never imagined that this same trait—this deep sense of loyalty—would also make it so hard for her… to completely break away from her past relationship. Sarah was honest with me. She told me about her ex, Mark. They were high school classmates who went to the same local college. After graduation, Mark decided to try and make it in the city. Sarah, pressured by her parents, stayed in our hometown to work and help support her family. The distance, her parents’ disapproval of Mark’s financial situation, and her own fear of holding him back led to their breakup. Her past didn’t bother me. If anything, it made me care about her more. During our relationship, I poured all my patience, tenderness, and attention into her. Over three years, I watched the smiles on her face become more frequent, the shadows in her eyes replaced by a playful light and a growing reliance on me. I felt deeply satisfied. People are only reserved when they don’t feel cherished. With me, she could be impulsive, moody, even a little spoiled. I’d handle it. I wanted to be the one who loved her unconditionally. My business partners joked that I was raising a daughter, not dating a girlfriend. But only I knew how much I wanted this girl, the one with the sweet dimples, to have a life that was sweeter, just a little bit sweeter. Until this moment. Thirty minutes before our wedding, watching her run off without a backward glance, rushing towards the hotel exit. She didn’t even notice her veil slip off and fall to the floor behind her. I looked down at the engagement photo displayed near the entrance – us, smiling, happy. My heart settled into a cold, hard decision. 5. I calmly watched Sarah get into the sedan parked down the street. She seemed completely absorbed by Mark inside the car, totally oblivious to me standing just thirty feet away at the corner. I thought I could hear faint sobs carried on the wind. Even though I’d made my decision, my heart still sank, inch by inch, in the cold breeze. Had I ever realized… that marrying me made her feel this trapped? This miserable? Their silhouettes seemed to merge in a tight embrace. I didn’t go closer. I just turned quietly and walked away. Twenty minutes later, Sarah found me back in the lobby, her nose slightly red. “Okay, I’m back. Makeup’s fixed.” I looked deeply into her eyes, noting the faint redness at the corners, and nodded noncommittally. She seemed nervous, weaving her fingers through mine, holding our joined hands in front of her. She looked earnestly at me. “Ethan, I really do want to marry you. Spend my life with you.” Her clear, almond eyes held the familiar look of dependence I knew so well. Except… it didn't stir anything in me anymore. I lowered my gaze, smiling faintly. Using the excuse of greeting an arriving guest, I gently pulled my hand free. “Is that so.” She seemed to sense the shift but didn’t know how to ask. She just stuck close to my side like a shadow, pouting slightly. “Ethan, what’s wrong? You’re acting kind of weird. Are you keeping something from me?” My gaze drifted away. “I got you a surprise gift,” I said distractedly. “You’ll find out during the ceremony.” She seemed slightly reassured, her eyes curving into a sweet smile. Ten minutes later. The wedding ceremony. The officiant asked, “Mr. Ethan Miller, do you take Ms. Sarah Jenkins to be your lawfully wedded wife, to respect her, to love and protect her, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, forsaking all others, ’til death do you part?” Under Sarah’s pleading gaze, I lowered my eyes slightly, smiled faintly, and answered, slowly and clearly, gently but firmly, “I don’t.” I watched calmly as the happy smile on her face froze, the color draining away, leaving her almost translucent and swaying under the spotlight. 6. The entire room erupted in shocked whispers and gasps. Sarah’s father, Gary, and her brother, Danny, jumped up from their seats, furious, but a couple of my friends, whom I’d briefed beforehand, quickly and firmly held them back. Meanwhile, my groomsmen escorted Mark onto the stage, gripping his shoulders tightly as he tried to struggle. Under Sarah’s terrified gaze, I gave her a small smile. “Sarah, honey, your groom… is someone else.” Amidst the rising murmur of confusion, I took the microphone from the officiant. “My apologies to everyone for this… unexpected turn of events.” “This gentleman,” I gestured towards Mark, “is the bride’s ex-boyfriend. Though… judging by their recent tearful reunion, perhaps I’m the one who should be leaving.” “Sarah, you don’t have to sneak off to see him before the wedding anymore. You don’t have to put on that heartbroken, can’t-let-go act for him.” “You know, over the last three years, whatever you wanted, I always found a way to give it to you.” “This wedding reception, this venue… consider it my gift to you.” “I always just wanted you to be happy.” “But from here on out, I can’t walk that path with you anymore.” “I wish you happiness.” Sarah was trembling violently, barely able to stand. She reached for my hand, tears streaming down her face. “Ethan, it’s not what you think…” “I just… I just had a moment of weakness, I wanted to say goodbye properly… You’re the one I care about! I really wanted to marry you, spend my life with you!” “You were always the one who forgave me everything, right? You said I could be myself with you, act out, test boundaries, do whatever I wanted, and you’d always accept me!” “I know I messed up this time! Please, forgive me, okay?” I looked at her face, etched with grief and desperation, and felt a strange calm, almost surprising myself. The old me… I could never bear to see Sarah shed a single tear. Even just the slightest hint of redness in her eyes would send me into a panic, ready to offer her my heart on a platter. So… this is what she looked like when she cried. It wasn't… that big a deal, after all. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark’s face flushed red, his jaw clenched tight. I smiled faintly and gently wiped the tears from Sarah’s cheek. A flicker of hope ignited in her eyes. She looked at me through her tears. She always knew how to soften me up. After three years together, I knew her better than she knew herself sometimes. She was genuinely scared, genuinely regretting it now. I believed that when she got into that car, she hadn't actually intended to leave me for good. I even believed that in the previous timeline, when she instinctively pushed me, she hadn't fully grasped the consequences. But… so what? Instincts reveal the truth. I’d already died once because of it. I had to have learned something from that. You can’t un-spill milk. And my love, Ethan Miller’s love… it wasn’t that cheap.
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