This Time, I Choose Me
1512 Words
The next morning, I woke before dawn.
For several seconds, I lay perfectly still.
Listening.
Waiting.
Expecting reality to correct itself.
Expecting to wake up in a hospital.
Or an afterlife.
Or somewhere else entirely.
Instead, sunlight slowly crept through my curtains.
Birds chirped outside.
The house remained quiet.
Normal.
Peaceful.
Real.
A strange laugh escaped me.
I had actually traveled back in time.
The sentence sounded ridiculous even inside my own head.
Yet every piece of evidence pointed to the same conclusion.
Five years.
Five years before my death.
Five years before the Vances destroyed everything.
Five years before I allowed them to.
A cold determination settled inside me.
Not this time.
Never again.
---
By eight o'clock, I was sitting in my home office reviewing old company files.
The experience felt surreal.
In my previous life, Vance Strategic Consulting had eventually become one of the fastest-growing firms in the country.
At this point in time?
We were still small.
Promising.
But small.
I stared at the numbers.
Then smiled.
Because I already knew exactly which projects would succeed.
Which markets would explode.
Which partnerships would generate millions.
The future sat inside my head like a treasure map.
And for the first time in two lifetimes...
The advantage belonged to me.
My phone rang.
Rachel.
Five years younger.
Five years more energetic.
Five years less traumatized.
I immediately answered.
"Morning."
Rachel sounded confused.
"You're in a good mood."
I almost laughed.
If she only knew.
"I'm alive."
A pause.
Then:
"That's a very low standard."
I grinned.
"You'd be surprised."
---
An hour later, I arrived at the office.
The sight nearly made me emotional.
Not because of the building.
Because of the people.
Faces I hadn't seen in years.
Employees who later resigned.
Managers who eventually moved overseas.
Colleagues who drifted away.
People I had forgotten until this moment.
Life was strange.
You never realize you're living through future memories.
Not until they're gone.
Rachel followed me into my office.
Immediately launching into business updates.
Client reports.
Revenue projections.
Expansion plans.
The familiar rhythm felt comforting.
Grounding.
Normal.
Then she handed me a proposal.
My pulse quickened instantly.
I recognized it.
In my first life, I'd rejected this opportunity.
A logistics startup seeking consulting support.
At the time, it seemed insignificant.
Three years later, it became worth billions.
My future self practically screamed.
Take it.
I signed immediately.
Rachel blinked.
"You didn't even read it."
"I trust my instincts."
Technically true.
My instincts just happened to come with future knowledge.
---
Around noon, another familiar name appeared on my phone.
Ethan.
Again.
I stared at the screen.
The irritation surprised me.
Because in my previous life, seeing his name had made my heart race.
Butterflies.
Excitement.
Hope.
Now?
Mostly annoyance.
The contrast felt bizarre.
This version of Ethan hadn't hurt me yet.
I knew that.
Logically.
Emotionally, however, logic was losing badly.
The phone continued ringing.
Eventually, I answered.
"What?"
A brief silence followed.
Clearly, that wasn't the greeting he'd expected.
"Good afternoon to you too."
His voice.
That voice.
The same voice that once made me weak.
Now it merely made me tired.
"What do you want?"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"Did I do something?"
I nearly laughed.
Yes.
You divorced me.
Ignored me.
Failed me.
Let your family destroy me.
Got me killed.
The list was extensive.
Unfortunately, none of those things had happened yet.
At least not to him.
To me, they already had.
"Nothing happened."
The lie tasted bitter.
Ethan sounded unconvinced.
"Then why are you avoiding me?"
Because in my last life, loving you ruined mine.
Instead, I said:
"I'm busy."
Then ended the call.
Perhaps rude.
Definitely rude.
I didn't care.
---
The first major change occurred three days later.
In my previous life, this was the week I officially began dating Ethan.
This time?
I declined every invitation.
Every lunch.
Every dinner.
Every casual meeting.
At first, he seemed confused.
Then persistent.
Then frustrated.
The progression almost amused me.
Almost.
My amusement vanished when Eleanor Vance entered the picture.
I encountered her during a charity gala.
One I remembered vividly.
The same gala where she first decided I was acceptable.
Or rather...
Profitable.
The memory made my stomach turn.
I spotted her immediately.
Elegant.
Powerful.
Perfectly composed.
The queen of manipulation.
Only this time, I knew exactly what she was.
And somehow that made her look smaller.
Not less dangerous.
Just smaller.
Eleanor noticed me a few minutes later.
A warm smile instantly appeared.
The sight nearly made me laugh.
Because I knew the truth behind it.
This wasn't approval.
This wasn't affection.
This wasn't kindness.
It was evaluation.
She was looking at an asset.
A future acquisition.
Nothing more.
"Clara."
Her voice dripped with warmth.
Fake warmth.
"Mrs. Vance."
The smile remained.
Though something flickered briefly in her eyes.
Surprise perhaps.
In my first life, I'd been eager to impress her.
This time?
Not so much.
"I've heard wonderful things about your company."
Of course you have.
You spent years planning to steal it.
The thought remained safely inside my head.
"I appreciate that."
Eleanor studied me carefully.
Like a chess player evaluating a board.
Then she smiled again.
"We should have lunch sometime."
There it was.
The beginning.
The recruitment.
The manipulation.
The trap.
I smiled back.
Sweetly.
Politely.
Dangerously.
"No."
For the first time all evening, Eleanor genuinely looked shocked.
The expression was priceless.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm very busy."
The lie came effortlessly.
Actually, it wasn't even a lie.
Avoiding her counted as being busy.
---
The next month transformed everything.
Armed with future knowledge, I moved aggressively.
Investments.
Partnerships.
Acquisitions.
Every decision calculated.
Every step deliberate.
Opportunities that once slipped through my fingers became mine.
The company exploded.
Faster than before.
Much faster.
Rachel thought I'd become a genius overnight.
I let her believe it.
Explaining time travel seemed unnecessarily complicated.
Within six weeks, profits doubled.
Then tripled.
Investors took notice.
Competitors took notice.
The media took notice.
And unfortunately...
So did the Vances.
The realization arrived during another gala.
Apparently wealthy people enjoyed standing around discussing money while pretending it wasn't about money.
Ethan approached first.
Looking annoyed.
A familiar expression lately.
"We need to talk."
I sipped my champagne.
"No, we don't."
His jaw tightened.
Interesting.
In my previous life, Ethan rarely got frustrated.
Mostly because I rarely challenged him.
Apparently resistance produced different results.
"You've been avoiding me for two months."
"Correct."
"Why?"
Because I died.
The answer remained inconveniently impossible.
Instead, I shrugged.
"I lost interest."
The words hit harder than intended.
I watched it happen.
The brief flash of hurt.
The confusion.
The disbelief.
And unexpectedly...
Guilt twisted inside me.
Not because I'd lied.
Because this Ethan hadn't earned the punishment yet.
Future Ethan had.
Present Ethan was simply paying the bill.
The distinction bothered me more than I wanted.
---
The evening became significantly more interesting when Eleanor joined us.
Her smile appeared flawless.
Her eyes didn't.
Those eyes looked calculating.
Focused.
Concerned.
Because something wasn't happening according to plan.
Me.
I was the thing.
The variable she couldn't understand.
And I intended to keep it that way.
"Clara."
"Mrs. Vance."
Eleanor's gaze lingered.
Watching.
Assessing.
Trying to solve a puzzle.
Finally, she spoke.
"Your company is growing remarkably fast."
There it was again.
Interest.
Not in me.
In my company.
Always my company.
I smiled.
"Thank you."
"You've exceeded expectations."
My smile widened.
If only she knew.
If only she knew how much further I intended to go.
This wasn't growth.
This was preparation.
For war.
---
Later that night, after returning home, I reviewed my notes.
The timeline.
The future.
The countless events waiting ahead.
Some things had already changed.
Dramatically.
Others remained untouched.
Yet one realization became increasingly clear.
The future wasn't fixed anymore.
Not entirely.
Every decision created ripples.
Every change altered something else.
The implications were enormous.
Potentially dangerous.
Because eventually, future knowledge would become less reliable.
The more I changed things, the less accurate my memories became.
A troubling thought.
Yet not enough to stop me.
Nothing could stop me.
Not now.
Not after everything.
I looked down at a photograph sitting on my desk.
My parents.
Smiling.
Happy.
Alive.
This time, I would protect them.
No hospital rooms.
No accidents.
No near deaths.
No grief.
Never again.
Then my gaze shifted toward another file.
One containing everything I knew about the Vances.
Every weakness.
Every secret.
Every future mistake.
A slow smile spread across my face.
Five years ago, they believed they were choosing a future victim.
A future wife.
A future asset.
They were wrong.
Terribly wrong.
Because the woman sitting in front of those files wasn't the Clara they remembered.
That Clara died on a dark street beneath the headlights of a speeding car.
What remained was someone else entirely.
Someone wiser.
Someone colder.
Someone who knew exactly what monsters looked like.
And unlike before...
This version of Clara Vance intended to become powerful enough that nobody could ever choose her fate again.
- Writer
