u/BadInfluenceFairy

The moment my heart stopped on the operating table, my husband was signing the divorce papers with my sister sitting on his lap. I know this because I came back. Three years of marriage to Roman Ashford, and I died carrying his child — a child he never knew about, because my sister Nora told him I was faking the pregnancy for attention. Now, I was back. Reborn to the morning of our second wedding anniversary — the day I had begged him to come home for dinner, and he sent me a photo of Nora in his shirt instead. I stared at the ceiling of our bedroom — *his* bedroom, really, since he hadn't slept here in months — and pressed my hand to my stomach. The baby was still there. Alive. Eight weeks along. In my last life, I told Nora about the pregnancy first because I thought she was my closest family. Our mother died when we were young, and our father, Victor Laine, had always favored her. I thought if Nora was happy for me, she'd help me tell Roman. Instead, she told him I was lying. That I had been sleeping with other men. That the baby — if it even existed — wasn't his. And Roman believed her. Every single word. He didn't even ask me. He just stopped coming home entirely. When I bled on the bathroom floor at seven months, I called him forty-three times. He didn't pick up once. It was his business partner, Dominic Voss, who found me. He broke down the door after I failed to show up to a charity gala I'd organized for the Ashford Foundation. Dominic rushed me to the hospital. He held my hand while the doctors tried to save my baby. They couldn't. And the morning after I lost everything, Roman finally showed up — not to see me, but to deliver divorce papers. "Sign them," he said coldly, not even looking at the hospital bed. "Nora's pregnant. I need to marry her before she starts showing." I signed. What else could I do? I had no strength left to fight. Two months later, I collapsed in my empty apartment. Organ failure. My body had never recovered from the stillbirth. The last thing I saw before I died was a news headline on my phone: **"Ashford Empire Heir Roman Ashford Welcomes First Child with Wife Nora Laine."** They used my due date for the announcement. But none of that mattered now. Because I was back. And this time, I wasn't going to waste a single breath on Roman Ashford. I picked up my phone and called the one person who had actually tried to save me. Dominic answered on the first ring. "Aurelia?" His voice was cautious, surprised — we weren't close yet in this timeline. We'd only met a handful of times at business functions. "Dominic," I said calmly. "I need a lawyer. The best one you know. I'm filing for divorce today." There was a long pause. "Are you sure?" "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." Another pause. Then — "I'll be there in twenty minutes." After I hung up, I stared at the massive diamond ring on my finger. In my past life, I treasured it like it was my whole world. Now, I pulled it off and set it on the nightstand. My phone buzzed. A text from Roman: *"Don't wait up tonight. Business dinner."* I knew exactly where he was. Exactly who he was with. I typed back two words I never had the courage to say before: *"Don't bother."* Then I blocked his number.