Chapter 2Reborn, I Refuse to Take Her Place

I turned to look at her, genuinely surprised.

Eric had manners practically coded into his DNA. He wasn't the type to bank his entire love life on an internet stranger. Even if Diana wasn't his usual type, he would never let his disappointment show.

"Why would you say that? Are you overthinking it?"

Diana threw her hands up, her dramatic flair returning. "I sat down and said, 'Hey, I'm Josie.' And he kept looking past me. Like he was waiting for some supermodel to walk through the door and say, 'Just kidding, I'm the real Josie.'"

"And then," she continued, "he asked me like three times, 'Are you really Josie? The one I've been talking to?' He didn't drop it until I literally pulled up our chat logs on my phone."

She slumped back against my pillows. "Men are all the same. Shallow. I'm officially giving up on the male species."

"Sadie, I wish I was as pretty as you," she whimpered, resting her head on my shoulder. "I wish we could swap places. Just for one day."

I stared at the ceiling. She had no idea how much I used to wish the exact same thing.

Diana only cried for one night. By the next morning, she was back to her usual self, eating pancakes and cracking jokes.

My life slipped back into its familiar, exhausting routine. Classes, part-time jobs, sleep, repeat.

"Sadie, sweetie, this is for you."

I had been tutoring for Sarah, a young single mom, for about a year. She was incredibly sweet. She handed me a paper bag. Inside was a thick winter coat and an envelope with a cash bonus.

I looked down at my own jacket. The cuffs were frayed to threads.

"Thank you, Sarah. You really didn't have to."

I was packing my bag to leave when the doorbell rang. Sarah trotted over to answer it. "That must be my cousin," she called over her shoulder. "She brought a friend from campus to fix my laptop."

I didn't think much of it until the door opened. I looked up, and my eyes locked with a pair of startlingly familiar ones.

"Do you guys know each other?" The girl standing next to Eric looked between us, tilting her head.

"No."

"We don't," Eric said, cutting me off before I could finish my sentence.

He was finally free of me. I should have been happy for him. Instead, a sharp, twisting pain flared in my chest.

I kept my eyes glued to the floor and squeezed past him.

The girl stepped aside to let me through. I knew her. Audrey. She was the daughter of Eric's academic advisor. His favorite protégé.

She was also the reason Eric had brought up divorce for the first time.

He had been dead serious. He slid the papers across the kitchen counter. "You can keep everything. The house, the money. I just want out."

He was willing to walk away with nothing just to get away from me. Any sane woman would have taken the deal.

But I wasn't sane.

"I'm not signing anything," I had screamed at him. "If you try to leave me, I'll kill myself."

He hadn't even flinched. He just offered a bitter, hollow laugh. "I'll make sure you get a beautiful funeral. And the day after, I'll marry someone else."

I had gripped those divorce papers, marched out to the campus lake, and thrown myself in.

I knew he wouldn't let me die. Not in front of him. His moral compass, his family's reputation. It forced his hand. He dove in and dragged me out.

The divorce was never mentioned again.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of the memory. It was Diana. "Hey, I found that doctor you asked about. She's a college friend of my mom's. Super highly rated."

"Is she expensive?"

"Nah, I told her you were my best friend. She's giving us a massive discount."

I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

In my past life, Eric constantly tried to drag me to a psychiatrist. Every time he brought it up, we ended up in a screaming match. It got so bad I once pulled a kitchen knife on him.

I refused to go to a loony bin. That was where my mother died. My father had dragged her there himself.

I was six years old when I watched them haul her away. She looked like a feral animal fighting for its life.

The next time I saw her was two years later. I had sneaked onto the bus to visit her. A tired nurse walked me down a sterile, bleached hallway.

"Is my mom in jail?" I had asked. The locked doors and heavy wire mesh looked like the prisons on TV.

The nurse said no. She pointed into a bleak room. Huddled in the corner was a woman with completely white hair, rocking back and forth. "That's your mother."

When my mom saw me, she reached out her bruised hands. I was so terrified I turned and ran.

By the time I finally gathered the courage to go back, she was in a body bag.

I knew I was sick. I had known it even when Eric tried to help me. I was just too terrified I would end up like her.

But this time, I wanted to try. Diana had told me it was just an illness. You take your meds, you talk to someone, and you get better.

I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be healthy.

Maybe seeing Eric had triggered something, because that night, I dreamt of what happened after I died.

Eric had moved out by then. He was renting an apartment right above Audrey's. They were in the same major, working on the same projects. They always had something to talk about.

Not like us. Every conversation we had felt like walking through a minefield.

Audrey had probably never seen Eric lose his temper. Hell, even his own mother hadn't seen the dark, explosive side of him that I brought out.

In the dream, his phone rang. I had been dead for exactly a month.

He didn't even check the caller ID. He just answered with an exhausted sigh. "I thought you'd finally give it a rest. Obviously not."

"Look, I'm coming back tomorrow. Stop calling me. You're giving me a headache."

"And what was all that poetic bullshit you texted me? 'Setting you free?' Did you watch a tragic movie and decide to play the victim again?"

He always used his sharpest words on me. With Audrey, his voice was like velvet.

The person on the other end finally spoke. "Eric? It's Audrey. Were you talking to someone else?"

Eric froze. He pulled the phone away, rubbed his temples, and let out a harsh breath. "Sorry. What's up?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie tonight? I really want to see that new thriller, but I hate going alone."

"Let's raincheck," he said quietly. "I'm just really tired."

He hung up. Then he stared at his phone.

It was the longest I had ever gone without contacting him since we started dating.

Frowning, he grabbed his keys and drove back to our house. The place I had finally called home.

But it was completely empty.

I had cleared out. The only thing left on the kitchen island was the signed divorce papers. I hadn't taken a single dime. That was the fate of a fraud. Kicked out with nothing.

He tore through the house. I had even taken the potted basil and the little succulent we bought together. I didn't want to, but he always hated taking care of plants. I knew they would die without me.

Eric dialed my number. It rang out.

He sent a voice note. "What kind of game is this? You actually signed the papers? You're really letting me go?"

"If you're serious, come back tomorrow so we can finalize this at the courthouse. I don't want you dragging this out and ruining my chances of moving on."

Silence.

He sat heavily on the couch, glaring at the screen. Just as his thumb hovered over the record button again, the doorbell rang.

A dark smirk crossed his face as he walked to the front door. "Could you be any more predictable? I barely hit send and you're already back—"

He pulled the door open. His smirk vanished.

It wasn't me. It was two police officers.

"Is this the residence of Sadie Collins?"

Eric's jaw tightened. "What kind of stunt is she pulling now?"

"Sir, we found a body."