I Came Back, I’ll Take His Life

After I died saving Thomas Blackwell, he didn't drown in regret the way tragic heroes do in those heartbreaking romance novels. Three days after my hastily arranged funeral, he walked straight into a courthouse and married my assistant. Their wedding was extravagantly lavish, but the moment the ceremony ended, he tossed my memorial portrait into the trash without a second glance. From that day forward, no one in The Blackwell Family dared to mention my name again. My son rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Thomas's leg, only to be kicked away. "Brittany is dead!" Thomas snapped coldly. "You'd better start calling Trisha Palmer 'Mom,' or there won't be a place for you in The Blackwell Family!" He added impatiently, "And starting next month, you're going to boarding school. Don't interfere with Trisha's pregnancy." My son ran away from home, clutching my portrait tightly against his chest. He was struck by a car and died alone on the side of the road. Thomas used the priceless collection of paintings I had brought into our marriage to rebuild his fortune. He rose to the top, became the wealthiest man in Westhaven, and lived to the age of ninety. It turned out that all those stories about evil people getting what they deserve were nothing but lies. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Thomas fell into the ocean. Only then did I finally understand that it had never been an accident. My death in my previous life had been the result of a cruel bet. This time, I chose to stand back and watch with complete indifference. ​ ***** ​ "Mommy!" ​ The tearful little voice jolted me. ​ My four-year-old son, Liam Blackwell, threw himself into my arms. His tiny body was warm and soft. ​ The memory of his death in my previous life stabbed into my mind. ​ He had run away from home carrying my memorial portrait, crying as he searched for his mother. ​ I had watched helplessly from above, frantic and desperate, yet completely unable to stop his death. ​ The thought made me tighten my embrace. ​ "Mommy," Liam pleaded, lifting his little face toward me, "I want to go on the boat with you, too." ​ The boat? I froze. ​ Thomas' impatient voice sounded from behind me. ​ "Hurry up, Brittany," he snapped. "What are you standing around for?" ​ I turned around. ​ The man I had loved for most of my life was slowly approaching. ​ His face was still as handsome as ever, yet looking at him now sent a chill through my entire body. ​ "If we're late for the summit, you'll be responsible for it." ​ Suddenly, I remembered. ​ Today was the annual Westhaven Business Summit. ​ It was also the day I died in my previous life. ​ "Maybe he shouldn't go." ​ Dressed impeccably, Trisha Palmer descended the staircase and naturally slipped her arm through Thomas’. ​ "Little Liam has always been delicate," she said gently. "The sea breeze will only make him sick again." ​ She shot me a provocative glance. ​ But unlike my previous life, I didn’t rush forward to pull her away from him. ​ Instead, when Liam shouted, "Bad woman! Let go of my daddy!" I immediately stopped him. ​ "Liam, come here." Lifting my son into my arms, I rose calmly. ​ "Trisha is right," I said evenly. "Liam should stay home and let Mrs. Harper take care of him." ​ A flash of surprise crossed Thomas' eyes. ​ After all, just three months earlier, when I discovered their affair, I had smashed up his office and exposed the scandal to everyone. ​ I had even knelt and begged him not to leave me. ​ To him, my behavior now must have seemed completely abnormal. ​ "Brittany, you…" He paused before continuing. "You're finally acting mature." ​ I ignored him and headed upstairs. ​ I truly shouldn't go. ​ In my previous life, Liam had watched me drown with his own eyes. ​ The trauma shattered him. ​ Now that fate had given me another chance, all I wanted was for him to live safely. ​ After changing clothes, I came back downstairs. ​ I ignored the hand Thomas extended toward me. ​ Instead, I gave the front passenger seat to Trisha and climbed into the back seat myself. ​ The wind on the yacht's deck was sharp and cold. ​ As I stared at the endless ocean, I couldn't help remembering the hospital morgue from my previous life. ​ Thomas had held my lifeless body and cried bitterly. ​ At the time, his guilt had seemed genuine. ​ But if that was true, why had he thrown away my memorial portrait and married Trisha only three days later? ​ Even if he no longer loved me, I had saved his life. ​ A sudden crash echoed from inside the cabin. ​ Trisha poked her head out. ​ After confirming no one was paying attention, she cautiously withdrew back inside. ​ "The private investigator got photographic evidence," she whispered. "She's been meeting that man constantly. Thomas, she betrayed you." ​ "Enough!" Thomas' voice sounded weary. ​ "I have already told you," he said. "You'll receive everything I owe you. But as long as Brittany is alive, there will only be one Mrs. Blackwell." ​ "Don't you want to know whether she actually loves you?" Trisha pressed. ​ Thomas stopped walking. ​ "If she jumps in after you, then it proves she loves you." ​ "And if she doesn't?" he asked quietly. ​ "Don't worry," Trisha tightened her grip on his arm. "I have already arranged for rescuers to be nearby. It’s just a harmless test. Nobody will be in danger." ​ A long silence followed. ​ In the end, Thomas nodded. ​ I almost laughed out loud. ​ So in my previous life, I had died because of their ridiculous suspicions. ​ The man they were talking about was merely a stamp dealer. ​ Thomas was obsessed with rare collectible stamps, and I had wanted to surprise him with one. ​ Yet he never gave me a chance to explain. ​ Just then, a heavy splash sounded from the far end of the deck. ​ "Brittany! Save me!" Thomas shouted as he thrashed wildly in the ocean. ​ In my previous life, I had jumped in. ​ I had lost my life for him. ​ This time, I didn't move a single inch. ​ Instead, I just stood there and watched. ​ Trisha stared at me in disbelief. ​ "Mrs. Blackwell!" she cried. "Aren't you going to save him? Don't you care about Mr. Blackwell's safety?" ​ "I have a cold," I replied with a helpless shrug. "I can't go into the water." ​ Then I smiled faintly. "You seem far more concerned about him than I am. Why don't you save him yourself?" ​ Before she could react, I shoved her backward. ​ Trisha screamed as she fell overboard. ​ The sounds of splashing and desperate cries instantly filled the air. ​ I brushed my hands off, took out my phone, and sent two messages. ​ The first instructed my lawyer to prepare divorce papers immediately. ​ The second went to my childhood friend and longtime rival, who lives in France. ​ Brittany: Keep a close watch on the painter Theo Reed at St. Victoria Medical Center. I’ll help you make a fortune.