Three years we’d been together when Isabella’s kidneys gave out. Acute renal failure, they called it, a cruel consequence of a life lived too fast. I gave her one of mine without a second thought. She wept, she held me, she promised me forever. She would marry me, she said, and take care of me for the rest of our lives. But on our wedding day, on the Fourth of July, I called the whole thing off in front of everyone. Why? Because I’d lived this life before. In that other life, her ex-boyfriend, Roger, died in a car crash on his way to our wedding. And somehow, in the twisted logic of her grief, it was my fault. She dedicated herself to my destruction, a slow, meticulous revenge that left me a skeletal wreck. A year later, on the anniversary of Roger’s death, she led me to the boiler room of an old factory. She staged an "accident." I remember the searing heat, the hiss of steam, the world turning white-hot before it went black. I was scalded alive. Now, I'm back. And this time, I’m not playing her game. This time, I’ll let them have their undying, tragic love story. 1 "Leo and I have decided to get married on the last day of the Fourth of July weekend!" Isabella’s announcement sent a ripple of cheers through the crowded living room. Our friends erupted in applause, shouting congratulations, wishing us a lifetime of happiness. Only Roger, Isabella's first love, remained silent. He lifted his glass of whiskey, downed it in one smooth motion, and fixed me with a smirk laced with venom. "Well, congratulations, Leo. You bought your way into her life with a kidney, and it finally paid off." I was in the kitchen, turning steaks on the grill pan, the scent of sizzling meat and warm spices filling the air. It should have felt cozy, a perfect summer evening. But all I could think about was the searing end to my last life. Two years ago, Isabella had been knocking on death's door. Her family members weren't a match. Roger, her beloved ex, had booked a one-way ticket out of the country the night he got the news. I was the only one who matched. I loved her. The thought of her dying so young was unbearable. So I gave her a piece of myself. She was so moved she cried for an hour straight, promising right then and there, before the surgery, that she would be my wife. She would cherish me forever. But when Roger died, that love curdled into a corrosive hatred that ended with me screaming in a boiler room. A sharp, stabbing pain twisted in my gut. The sound of the sizzling steaks was a violent echo of my past, and I couldn't stop it. A wave of nausea hit me hard, and I doubled over the counter, gagging. Roger froze. Isabella, however, rushed over, her face a mask of disgust. "What the hell is wrong with you? Can't you even cook without making a scene? If my cooking wasn't so terrible, you wouldn't even be touching the food for Roger!" She scowled. "You're useless. Just hurry up so you don't ruin everyone's appetite." Roger glanced at me with disdain before turning a charming smile on Isabella. "Bella, darling, I can cook. Let me take over." A blush crept up Isabella’s cheeks. "Absolutely not," she cooed, her voice soft. "Your hands are for the piano, Roger. They don't belong in a kitchen. You go relax. There's only one more dish. We'll let him finish it. Come on." She gently pushed him back toward the living room, but not before throwing a final, cutting remark over her shoulder at me. "I know you gave me a kidney, Leo, but can you stop using it as an excuse to be so fragile all the time? It's not like it affects your ability to flip a damn steak, is it?" The chatter in the living room died down. I could feel the sympathetic stares of our friends, but I ignored them. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as a flash of agony, a memory of fire, shot through me. I watched Isabella laughing with Roger, her head tilted just so, her eyes sparkling. My expression hardened, the pain solidifying into a cold, clear resolve. I am alive again. And I will not be the collateral damage of their love story this time. Slowly, I straightened up, finished the last of the vegetables, and brought the platter to the table. Most of the guests were Isabella's friends. They all knew the epic story of her and Roger. One of them pointed at the cute cartoon Band-Aid on the back of Roger's hand. "No way, man," he laughed. "You're a grown man. You scraped your hand on the corner of the table and you're wearing a Band-Aid?" Roger shot a pointed look in my direction. "I have someone who worries about me. Even the smallest scratch, and she can't help but care." He then turned to me, his face a caricature of apology. "Sorry, Leo. No offense intended. But I guess with you missing a whole organ, Bella’s got bigger things to worry about." I sat down, my voice flat and cold. "I'm missing a kidney because I love Isabella. Unlike you, who, when she needed a donor, bolted for the hills faster than anyone I've ever seen." "How dare you twist it like that?" Roger snapped, his face contorting as if I'd stepped on his tail. He immediately turned to Isabella, his eyes red and welling with tears. "Bella, you know why I had to leave! My cousin was in an accident overseas. I had to go, otherwise I would have stayed by your side through everything. He never would have had the chance." He choked back a sob. "If I had known you'd marry him just for a kidney, I would have stayed. God, I… I've regretted it every single day." The mood in the room shifted. Everyone exchanged uncertain glances. Isabella’s eyes filled with tears of pure, unadulterated emotion. I watched them from the sidelines, my heart a placid lake. A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. I’d given her a vital organ, and I’d never seen this much emotion from her. Roger says he regrets leaving, and she looks at him like he hung the moon. How could I have been so stupid in my last life? How could I have ever believed my devotion could win her heart? Suddenly, Roger’s act reached its crescendo. He crumpled to the floor, his body twitching faintly, a bit of white foam appearing at the corner of his mouth. Isabella shrieked, dropping to her knees and pulling him into her arms. "Roger! What's happening? Don't scare me!" she cried, her voice trembling with panic. Gasping for air, Roger managed to speak, his voice weak. "It's nothing… an old problem. Side effect from the sleeping pills. These last two years… I was so worried about you, I couldn't sleep. They were the only thing that got me through." He looked past her, his gaze locking with mine. "Leo thinks I did this on purpose. But I didn't. It's always been you, Bella. It's always been you in my heart." He took another shaky breath. "I just hope… even after you're married, we can still be close. If you've misunderstood my feelings… I'd rather just die right now." It was a performance so clumsy it wouldn't fool a toddler, but any sane adult could see right through it. Isabella, however, bought it hook, line, and sinker. She began to sob uncontrollably. "Oh, Roger, you idiot! Of course, I believe you! You don't have to prove anything to me like this." She clutched him tighter. "And it doesn't matter if I'm married or not. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. No one can ever change that!" A faint, tragic smile touched Roger's lips. "As long as you know that, I can rest easy." And with that, he passed out. Just before his eyes fluttered shut, I caught a flicker of a triumphant, sly smirk on his face. Isabella fumbled for her phone, frantically dialing 911. Only then did she finally look at me, her eyes burning with pure hatred. "I already agreed to marry you, Leo! Why did you have to say those things to him?" she hissed. "If anything happens to Roger because of you, I swear, I will make you regret it for the rest of your life!" 2 Her furious expression sent a phantom ache through my chest. Anyone in that room could see Roger was acting, but she was completely blind to it. Even one of her own friends couldn't help but speak up. "Isabella, that's a bit harsh. If it wasn't for Leo, who knows where you'd be right now." "Besides," another friend added quietly, "he really did leave you when you needed him most." Isabella's rage only intensified. "All Leo did was donate a kidney! That doesn't give him the right to act so high and mighty!" she shot back. "Roger had a family emergency! If he had been here, he would have done anything to save me! I'm already marrying you because of the kidney, Leo. What more do you want?" I let out a soft, humorless laugh and glanced at the man playing dead on the floor. "Really? He loves you that much, but his cousin was more important than your life?" My words only seemed to disgust her further. "That's enough! I won't let you say another bad word about him! That was his cousin, Leo! Was he just supposed to ignore that? Have you lost your heart completely?!" Seeing her, so utterly lost in her delusion, I saw a reflection of my past self. I remembered how I used to plead with her, trying to explain that I didn't give her my kidney as a bargaining chip for marriage. I did it because I loved her, and I hoped she would marry me because she loved me back. She agreed to marry me, yet she resented me for it, torturing me until my last breath. I was just as blind as she is now. Thank God that's over. A small pang of regret hit me. If only I could have been reborn just a little bit earlier. I never would have given her the kidney in the first place. The paramedics arrived quickly. Without a second thought, Isabella jumped into the ambulance alongside them, her hand clutching Roger's the entire time. The party was over. I spent the next few days recovering at home. And I spent some money. I hired an investigator to dig up everything there was to know about Roger Vance, especially what he’d been up to abroad for the past two years. It turned out Roger's private life was as dramatic as a Hollywood blockbuster. Yet here he was, professing his undying love for Isabella. Pathetic. I couldn't wait to see the look on Isabella's face when she found out. But first, I had to make sure they were shackled together for good. That would be the best revenge. A flicker of anticipation sparked within me. A few days later, Isabella stormed back into my apartment, her eyes blazing. "Leo, Roger almost died because of you! Even my father went to the hospital to see him. Aren't you going to go and apologize?!" I pulled on a jacket, ready to go with her. On the way to the hospital, I looked at her exhausted face. She was clearly worn out from worry, her eyes puffy from lack of sleep. I’d never seen her this concerned, not even when I was recovering from surgery. Roger fakes a fainting spell, and she’s a wreck. I couldn't help but ask, "I've been so good to you. I gave you a piece of myself. Does all of that still not measure up to a single hair on Roger's head?" Isabella hesitated for a second, then her face hardened with irritation. "No one compares to Roger. I won't lie to you, Leo. I love him. Only him. We were childhood sweethearts. You can't possibly compete with that." She sighed, a long, weary sound. "But don't worry. You saved my life, and I'll keep my promise. I'll marry you. I don't want to disappoint my parents, and I don't want people talking. When we get to the hospital, you will apologize to Roger properly. I don't want him to be upset." I looked at her determined expression and finally understood. It all made sense now. Why she hated me so much after Roger died in my previous life. To her, Roger was everything. And I was just a doormat she could walk all over. When we arrived at the hospital, Roger was propped up in bed, tearfully recounting his years of longing for Isabella to an older man sitting by his bedside—her father. As we walked in, his eyes immediately found Isabella, and his expression softened into one of deep, soulful affection, as if he wanted to melt right into her. "Bella, you're here." She gazed back at him, her own eyes filled with a matching tenderness. I ignored their silent, passionate exchange and turned to her father. "Sir, I need to discuss something with you. Could we step outside for a moment?" Mr. Bell nodded, but as we headed for the door, Isabella blocked our path, her face flushed with anger. "Leo, are you trying to tattle on me to my dad?" she demanded. "If you have a complaint about me and Roger, you can say it right here! You don't have to be so sneaky!" "I have other things to discuss," I said calmly. She clearly didn't believe me. "I was harsh with you, and now you're upset, I get it. But this is between us. Don't drag Roger into it. He's innocent! Just say what you have to say. I'm listening!" I looked at her father, then gestured toward Isabella, who was glaring at me as if I were her sworn enemy. "Sir, you see it too. You see how deep Miss Bell's feelings for Mr. Vance are. I don't want to be the villain in their story. I'm willing to step aside and let them be happy." I took a breath and delivered the final blow. "The wedding we planned for the Fourth of July… I think we should call it off. Effective immediately."
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