My son had been in a vegetative state for five years when his caregiver suddenly demanded to marry him. She claimed that after caring for him day and night, she had fallen deeply in love and didn’t mind that he was comatose. I politely refused. Even if my son never woke up, I had no right to treat his life like a bargaining chip. That was until I overheard the caregiver on the phone with her ex-husband. That’s when I learned she was a "regressor"—someone who had lived this life before. According to her, my son was going to wake up in exactly one week. 1 "Mrs. Sterling, I’m not joking. I even divorced my husband so I could marry Luke." "You know as well as I do that Luke probably won’t ever wake up. He can’t... perform a husband’s duties. But I don’t care. I don’t mind." Brenda stood there, hands on her hips, looking at me as if I should be thanking her for her sacrifice. I furrowed my brow, finding the whole situation absurd. My son, Luke, had been in a persistent vegetative state for five years, three months, and nine days. I had exhausted every option, from cutting-edge neurology to praying at temples, but no miracle had come. Brenda was our live-in caregiver. She’d been decent enough with Luke over the years, and I paid her a salary that would make most corporate managers jealous. But lately, her personality had shifted. And today, she dropped this bomb. I rejected her immediately. "First, in Luke’s condition, marriage is legally complex and practically meaningless to him." "Second, I haven't given up hope. I still pray he wakes up one day. I don't want him opening his eyes only to find I’ve arranged a marriage he never asked for." "Third, Brenda, you’re twenty-six. I’m not going to let you throw your life away on a man who can’t speak to you." I was clear, logical, and firm. But she acted like she only heard the last part. She waved her hands frantically. "It’s not throwing it away! I love Luke. I don't care what state he's in." I sighed, looking at her like she was an alien. Why would a young woman insist on marrying a man in a coma? Was she after the inheritance? Impossible. Luke was my only child. After the accident, my mother-in-law, Rose, had nagged me constantly to adopt a new heir. I refused. But my husband’s business empire needed a successor. I had eventually promised Rose that if Luke didn’t wake up by next year, we would consider adoption. Brenda was in the room when I made that promise. She knew if Luke didn't wake, she wouldn't get a dime of the family fortune. So, was it really love? Whatever it was, it was ridiculous. I tried to reason with her for another twenty minutes. Just when I thought I was getting through, she stood up abruptly, knocking over her tea. The cup shattered. "Mrs. Sterling, don't look down on me!" "You think just because your son is a vegetable, a caregiver isn't good enough for him?" "I divorced my husband for this! I’ve worked in this house for years! How can you treat me like this?" Tears streamed down her face. I have zero patience for emotional blackmail. Seeing that logic was useless, I turned around and walked away. 2 I woke up from my afternoon nap having almost forgotten the incident. But Brenda hadn't. While I was asleep, she had called in the cavalry: my mother-in-law. When I went downstairs, Grandma Rose was holding Brenda’s hands, looking at her with dewy-eyed affection. "Oh, Brenda is such a saint. She’s worried our Luke is lonely and wants to commit her life to him." "If Luke can have a wife, I can die happy." I frowned. The older generation had this obsession with "completing life events" regardless of the circumstances. But my son didn't need a sham marriage. Rose grabbed my hand and patted it aggressively. "I’ve decided. We’re setting a date this week!" "I do not agree," I said, standing my ground. Rose froze, shocked by my defiance. "What... what do you mean?" I took a deep breath and repeated every logical point I had made to Brenda that morning. Rose didn't listen to a word. She slammed her hand on the table. "Luke is already a vegetable! If you don't let him marry, he’s pathetic! What kind of mother are you? So heartless!" I stayed silent. There was no winning this argument. Seeing the stalemate, Brenda suddenly threw herself to the floor, kneeling before me. "Mrs. Sterling, I truly love Luke. If you let me marry him, I’ll serve you like a slave for the rest of my life. I don’t want a dowry, I don’t want a wedding. I just want the title. I just want to be his wife." I let out a dry laugh. "‘Caregiver’ is a title that lets you stay by his side just fine." Rose was trembling with rage at my coldness. She bypassed me completely and pulled Brenda up. "Good child, ignore her. Wait until my son—Luke’s father—comes home. We’ll talk to him. He’s reasonable. He won’t deny you this." Then, Rose took a jade bracelet off her wrist and slid it onto Brenda’s arm. "This has been passed down in our family for generations. Now, I’m giving it to you. This means I acknowledge you as my grandson's wife." Generations? Funny, she never gave it to me when I married her son. Not that I wanted it. I went to Luke’s room to massage his legs. His face was pale, same as it had been for five years. But as long as the monitor beeped, I was at peace. They say a coma patient only lives as long as their family has the will to keep them going. And I was a mother with an infinite amount of will. Brenda’s stunt had unsettled me. That night, I couldn't sleep. My chest felt heavy. I got up to get some fresh air in the courtyard. Passing Brenda’s room, I heard her on the phone. I intended to walk past, but the word "Hubby" stopped me cold. Hubby? Didn't she just make a huge scene about her divorce? I pressed my ear against the door. "Hubby, don't worry. When have I ever lied to you?" "Just one more week. Next Tuesday. That’s the day Luke wakes up. I remember it clearly." 3 She spoke fast, excited, using slang I barely caught. But the gist was terrifyingly clear. Brenda claimed she had been "reborn." In her previous life, she was an abusive caregiver. She treated Luke like a punching bag. I didn't see it because she was slick. I told her to do physical therapy; she skipped it. She sold his meds on the black market. But comatose patients can still feel. When Luke unexpectedly woke up, she was fired and sued. I sent her to prison. When she got out, she was blacklisted. Even her husband left her for another woman. Desperate, she jumped off a building and woke up five years in the past. This time, she treated Luke well. And she memorized the exact date and time he woke up: next Tuesday at 10:00 AM. This was her chance to marry into wealth. She planned to marry him while he was still "out," secure her status, and then use my money to support her ex-husband in secret. A few years later, she’d arrange a little "accident" for Luke, inherit the estate, and return to her true love rich. The sheer malice made my knees weak. I stumbled, knocking into a plant stand. "Who's there?" Brenda’s voice snapped. Panic surged. I grabbed the house cat wandering the hall and tossed it toward her door, diving into the shadows. Brenda peeked out. "It’s okay, babe. Just the cat." "But I'm still in the Sterling house. Let's not talk about this part anymore." After she closed the door, I gasped for air. Rebirth? It sounded psychotic. But God, I hoped she was telling the truth. Not about the murder plot—but about Luke waking up. I wanted it to be true more than anything in the world. But I couldn't let Brenda win. I memorized the date she mentioned. And I hatched a plan. The next morning, while she was washing dishes, I "accidentally" knocked her phone off the counter and out the open window. It shattered on the patio below. She shrieked, running out of the kitchen, eyes blazing with fury. "Mrs. Sterling! What are you doing?!" I put on my best apologetic face. "Oh my god, Brenda, I am so clumsy today. I am so sorry." "Tell you what—I’ll buy you that new iPhone 16 Pro Max that’s coming out. How does that sound?" Greed instantly replaced anger. "The Pro Max? Really? Okay. Yes." "It doesn't come out for a week, though," I said. "Here, use my old phone until then." I handed her a spare smartphone. It worked perfectly. Except for one thing: I had disabled the automatic time sync and manually set the date three days ahead. To cover my tracks, I adjusted the digital calendars in the hallway and kitchen too. Brenda lived in our house bubble. She wouldn't notice. When the day she thought was the "Wake Up Day" arrived, Luke would still be asleep. She would panic. And people who panic make mistakes. Just as I predicted, she didn't suspect a thing. As the date on her phone crept closer to her target, she became visibly manic with excitement. But there was a variable I hadn't accounted for. 4 I was woken up by screaming. At first, I thought Brenda was just throwing another tantrum. But the screams were coming from Luke’s room. I threw on a robe and ran downstairs. When I opened the door, my blood ran cold. Brenda was lying in Luke’s bed, her clothes torn and disheveled, crying hysterically. She was under the covers with my son. The room smelled of sweat and something muskier. "Mrs. Sterling!" she wailed. "Last night... Luke woke up! I was so happy, I came to give him water. But he... he grabbed me! He forced himself on me!" I frowned. I looked at Luke. He was pale. His breathing was shallow and rhythmic. He looked exactly as he had for five years. He wasn't awake. Then it hit me. I had messed with the dates. Today was the day Brenda thought he was supposed to wake up. In reality, the actual date was three days away. I checked my watch. 9:00 AM. In her phone call, she said he woke up at 10:00 AM. She was staging this scene an hour early so that when he "woke up" at 10, he’d be confused, and she could claim he assaulted her in a post-coma delirium, forcing a marriage. I pulled up a chair and sat down. "You’re saying my comatose son assaulted you? And then went back to sleep?" "Yes!" She sobbed. "I wouldn't lie about my virtue! Mrs. Sterling, I know you don't want us to marry, but now... now I’m ruined. If I can't be his wife, I might as well die!" I pointed at Luke. "He hasn't moved a muscle." "He was exhausted!" she argued. "Just wait. He’ll wake up any minute now." I laughed. "Okay. If you say my son raped you, that’s a serious crime. I’m calling the police." "We’ll get a rape kit done immediately." Her face went pale. She started stammering, refusing to involve the cops. "Just call the police!" I insisted, pulling out my phone. "Stop!" A voice boomed from the hallway. Grandma Rose. "Family business stays in the family! Police? Have you no shame?" Brenda’s eyes lit up. She had called Rose for backup. "Fine," I said, crossing my arms. "We wait. Let’s see if he wakes up." Time ticked by. Brenda got more and more smug as 9:59 approached. "He’s waking! He’s waking!" she shouted as the clock hit 10:00. Grandma Rose jumped up, rushing to the bed. Luke didn't move. Brenda froze. 10:05. 10:10. Nothing. "Impossible..." she muttered, her face draining of color. "I couldn't have remembered it wrong."
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