A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood

In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled.

Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault.

For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice.

"Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get."

She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me.

In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed.

My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end.

As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was.

I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart.

Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs.

I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell.

This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.