Second Chance

A voice called

I set his dinner down in front of him and walked into the other room. Sure enough, his high-pitched, irritating voice called out, grumbling about how bland the food was.

He balled his fists and unexpectedly punched me in the face—it was the first time he’d hit me since we tied the knot just a week ago. Usually, he just flung glasses like a clumsy duck or attempted to mimic a slap he’d seen in some random action movie.

“Do you even know how to cook? I’ve seen better meals come from the woods,” he sneered, his voice sounding like that backpack from Dora the Explorer.

“Maybe it would be great if you could keep it down, sir, especially since you clearly know nothing about cooking,” I calmly retorted, trying to match his pleasant demeanor. He responded by snatching the plate and dumping all the food into the trash.

I let out a long sigh and was just about to step out when—bam! A loud thud rocked my head, instantly followed by the sound of a plate shattering,And honestly.. that really stung.

And just like that, I found myself waking up.

Rubbing my head, I reached for my phone to confirm that my nightmares had done their job, and yep, they definitely did. Seriously, who needs an alarm clock when nightmares ensure you're up between 5 and 6 AM?

I then heard a light knock on my door, and I had a good feeling it was Angelina. With a chuckle, I called out, “When did you suddenly develop such good manners? Knocking now, are we?” Of course, I was joking—common courtesy was never her strong suit.

“I wouldn’t say I’m too shabby at it! Some folks even think I’m quite polite,” a male voice chimed in just as the door creaked open. There was Marcus, grinning like he was channeling a little Maleficent magic as he held a tray in his hands.

He walked in and set down a tray brimming with breakfast right next to me. "You're clearly in the first stage of total confusion; just so you know, I'm not Angelina," he chuckled at my remark, plopping himself down beside me as if he owned the place—though, to be fair, he kind of did.

He scooted the stool closer, giving me a better view of the two-star breakfast he’d clearly whipped up just for me. "Angelina filled me in on what’s been going on, and I felt terrible. I thought this might lift your spirits."

"I'm not down or anything like she insinuated," I replied, laughing. "Honestly, I'm just excited to live with people who don't glance my way whenever they walk by the knives!" I stood up, neatly folding the sheets into a triangle.

Marcus crossed his arms and chuckled. "Angelina wasn’t wrong; you’ve got a knack for finding humor in the most heart-wrenching situations. But hey, on the bright side, it looks like you can finally find your other half!"

His words struck me like a bolt from the blue, making me see just how little I was using my brain. I had only focused on the fact that I became a widow at 22, but it never occurred to me that I now had the chance to truly live and love again.

I took Marcus's hands and brought them together, saying, "Marcus, you’re so clever! I’ll treat you to some candy for being such a good boy." I ruffled his hair and tucked the now-triangle-shaped sheets into the wardrobe.

The room was painted in warm brown and white, adorned with lollipop-shaped designs. Usually, it smelled like hot pancakes, but today it was filled with the aroma of the “fresh” breakfast prepared by our Michelin Star chef.

“I should have figured this out sooner,” I said, my eyes now on him. “I can finally live the dream life I imagined as a ten-year-old—though back then, it included flying puppies and a yacht.” I turned back to Marcus, who sat on the bed, watching me with a cheeky grin.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” I said, leaning against the wardrobe. “Last night, you mentioned wanting to break up with Angelina. I wanted to ask why, but then she walked in at just the wrong moment. So, what’s going on with you and Angelina?”

He stood up, staring at the floor for a moment before meeting my gaze. “I figured it’d be pretty obvious.”

Raising my eyebrows, I replied, “How am I supposed to know what goes on in that ‘brilliant’ mind of yours?”

With a grin, he opened the door. “Enjoy your meal. When you finally figure out what I meant, we can talk about it again.” He winked as he left the room—he could have really pulled off that smooth exit if only his socks weren't mismatched.

As I reached for my toothbrush from my bag, two thoughts buzzed in my mind. First, I really needed to uncover what Marcus was getting at, partly out of sheer curiosity, and partly because I wanted to feel clever by playing detective.

The second thing on my mind was figuring out what to do with my life going forward. I could do anything that came to me—like cosplaying as Sophia the First, pooping on McDonald’s Farm, or even hitting the gym to check out random guys’ muscles.

As I made my way to the bath, I casually tied my towel around my ankle when I heard a strange buzzing sound coming from the drawer. Of course, it was my trusty phone.

The number wasn’t from anyone in my contacts, and my chaotic heart secretly hoped it was a prank call from some bored high-schooler—oh, how I’d love to give them a taste of a good roast!

I picked up the phone and pressed it to my ear. A deep, soothing voice came through that felt oddly familiar. 'Hey, is this Kourtney?' the voice asked.

'Yeah, who’s this?' I replied.

'I sincerely apologize for not calling sooner, because this situation didn’t occur today or yesterday, it really wasn’t too long ago.' With each word, the voice grew even softer.

"Get to the point already", I said, hitting the drawer furiously.

"It's about your sister, Carol. She's dead."