Chapter 1
"Cecilia, I won't marry you. I love Amber. Stop being dramatic and have some dignity."
The instant I got that message from my fiancé, Charles Bennett, I knew he had been reborn too.
In my previous life, Charles and I had been a devoted couple for fifty full years.
Everyone thought he was the perfect man. He'd never so much as said a harsh word to me.
The day he died, I fainted from crying. My son, Milo Bennett, held me and swore he would give his father a dignified send-off.
I lost count of the times I told myself I had married the right man and raised a good son.
It wasn't until I was sorting through Charles's belongings that I found his diary. It didn't mention me once.
On the last page, he had written: A lifetime spent with someone I don't love—so this is what it feels like to be tormented. Bury my ashes with Amber Paxton. Don't let your mother know. She cries too much, and it's tiresome.
Amber Paxton was my best friend. And Milo had already buried the two of them in the same grave behind my back.
Milo even tried to reason with me. "Dad gave you 50 years of his life. Surely you can't begrudge him the choice of who he's buried with."
So my previous marriage had been nothing but a joke. When I came to my senses, I calmly deleted the message.
After I blocked Charles, I opened the message from his sworn enemy, Leo Wallace.
Leo Wallace: I wish you every happiness. I won't come to the wedding. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to stop myself from interrupting the wedding. But in another life, I would meet you first.
I typed back.
Cecilia Moore: The wedding is the day after tomorrow. You're the groom.
*****
"How come the password's been changed?"
Charles's voice came from outside the door, edged with impatience.
I sat on the sofa in the apartment we had bought for the wedding and took a sip of water. It was cold. It slid into my stomach and set off a small, sharp spasm.
"Cecilia, open the door. I know you're in there." Charles knocked twice on the door.
I stood up and walked over to the handle.
The door opened.
Charles stood outside, a pink suitcase in his hand.
Amber hid behind him, wearing the white coat I had only just helped her pick out at the mall the day before yesterday, her eyes timid.
My fingertips curled in on themselves until my nails bit into my palm, a faint numbness spreading through my hand.
"What's the matter with you? You don't answer my messages, and your phone's unreachable." Charles's brows drew together.
He pushed the door open as if it were the most natural thing in the world and carried Amber's suitcase into the entryway.
"You saw the messages I sent you, right?" he asked while changing his shoes.
"Of course." My voice was calm.
Charles's hands paused over his shoelaces. He seemed surprised that I wasn't hysterical.
But he quickly slid back into that self-righteous expression.
"Then I don't need to waste time." He straightened up and took Amber's hand.
He looked at me and, in the tone of a man making a reasonable suggestion, delivered a verdict.
"From now on, Amber is moving in. Pack your things and get out. We're not getting married anyway."
Amber peeked out from behind him, her eyes red-rimmed.
"Cecilia, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take what was yours. It's just... I really do love him. I can't control my love..."
She bit her lower lip and watched me warily.
"Don't be angry with him. Blame me if you have to, all right?"
I looked at that face.
In my previous life, she had worn the same innocent expression when she cut the first slice of cake at Charles's and my 30th anniversary, turning herself into the hostess.
I had been so foolish then, believing she was my best friend.
I never knew that she was the woman my husband had kept hidden in his heart for a lifetime.
My stomach churned. I clenched my teeth hard to keep 5 decades of nausea from coming back up.
I raised my head and looked at her. My voice was flat.
"You can have the apartment. But we're settling accounts first."
I pulled up the payment records and held them out to Charles.
"The down payment on this place was 800,000. I paid half. Add two years of mortgage payments and the renovations, and that comes to five hundred thousand."
I looked him in the eye. My voice didn't rise or fall.
"Send me the money, and I'll leave."
Charles stared at the screen in front of him, his brows drawing tighter and tighter.
"You're really going to nickel-and-dime me?"
"Even brothers settle accounts. And you and I aren't anything to each other now."
Charles let out a cold laugh.
"I knew it. You've been waiting for this."
He pushed my phone away, his tone dripping with condescending certainty.
"Cecilia, all this noble generosity is just an act. You want to use money to get a hold on me, don't you? You know perfectly well my company's funds are all tied up in projects right now. I can't come up with that kind of cash."
He reached for my arm.
"Stop making a fuss. Can't you just be decent about it? Once my cash flow frees up, I'll buy you a better place."
I stepped out of his reach.
"No money? Fine. Then we put the apartment on the market and split the proceeds. Until everything's settled, she can move in."
Charles's face darkened at once.
"Do you have to be this aggressive? Amber isn't well. Where is she supposed to go?"
"That's your problem, not mine." I looked at him.
Charles drew a long breath, as if suppressing his temper.
He took out his phone and called his assistant, Mark Davis.
"Transfer five hundred grand out of my personal account to her card."
He hung up and looked at me coldly.
"The money will be there in a minute. Now you can go pack."
