THE LOVE YOU DESTROYED

The laughter woke me. Not the cruel, mocking sound from my nightmares—the one my husband made the night he killed me—but warm, familiar giggles echoing from somewhere outside. I sat up slowly, breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t in a hospital. I wasn’t in a morgue. I was in my old bedroom. The lavender walls. The floral curtains I’d begged my father to keep. Sunlight spilling across the floor like golden silk. Every detail was exactly as it had been… two years ago. My hands flew to my face. My skin was smooth. My hair was longer. The silver wedding band—gone. I stumbled to the mirror. The woman staring back wasn’t the broken, hollow-eyed bride from last night’s storm. She was younger. Brighter. Unscarred. It was me… before everything. A knock rattled the door. “Elena, hurry up! Ryan’s here to see you.” Ryan. The name was a blade against my spine. My murderer. My husband-to-be. My pulse pounded. I backed away from the door, gripping my nightgown like armor. Memories slammed into me—his charming smile at the altar, the cold barrel of the gun against my chest, the way his voice had been the last thing I’d heard. But this time… I wasn’t trapped. Somewhere out there, Nathaniel still thought I hated him. He didn’t know that in another life, he’d been my savior—the man who would have burned the world to keep me alive. This was my second chance. And I would use it. Ryan would never touch me. Nathaniel would never walk away unloved. “Elena?” Ryan’s voice was warm for now. “Don’t keep me waiting, sweetheart.” I smiled—a sharp, dangerous curve of my lips. “I’m not keeping you waiting,” I whispered. “I’m ending you before you begin.”