Part 2Second Chance: Escaping the Life I Was Meant to Live

In my past life, I never even went to college.

Because just a few days from now was the date set for my wedding to Oliver. Soon after, I got pregnant, and my education ended there.

Shortly after Oliver stayed to teach at the college, he was transferred to a government agency.

From then on, we lived entirely different lives.

Outside, he climbed the corporate ladder. Wherever he went, Eleanor Davis—the star of the local community theater—followed, transferring her job and bringing her daughter along.

And me? I was trapped in my little domestic bubble, taking care of his bedridden parents and raising the kids.

I watched my son grow from a babbling toddler who clung to me, to a young man who gradually grew distant, drifting step by step toward Oliver.

Later, I didn't even know my son was marrying Eleanor's daughter until after the wedding was over.

I only saw it in a photo shown to me by an old friend.

In the picture, as my son and his new bride made a toast, Oliver and Eleanor stood side by side, smiling at each other with undeniable affection.

Later still, my son urged me to get a divorce on more than one occasion.

He said, "Mom, Dad has suffered his whole life. If it weren't for you, he'd have been with my mother-in-law long ago."

"Mom, you two don't match at all. Why can't you just let go?"

Even my daughter-in-law refused to see me.

But what could I do? I was so bitter!

I was bitter because when my in-laws were paralyzed and I was serving them day and night, he was out playing house with another woman.

I was bitter because when my son had a midnight fever, I was in such a panic that I ran three miles barefoot to get the doctor, while he was taking someone else's woman to piano lessons and helping another man's daughter with her homework.

I was bitter because I had given up everything for this family, only to reach the end and hear...

Him say it.

Them say it.

Everyone say it.

We didn't match.

Everyone blamed me. Why couldn't I just let go?

But I refused.

The exhaustion of my youth had carved deep trenches into my face, leaving me looking ancient and withered.

Even if it killed me, I was going to drag them down with me.

As for whether they got together after I died, I didn't care anymore.

I didn't have the strength to care.

Finally, I died right after my son urged me to divorce him one last time.

He had talked for hours, and seeing my stubborn silence, he stormed off in anger.

What he didn't know was that before his slamming door even latched, I had a massive heart attack.

I called out to him, but he didn't even look back.

In that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of regret.

Why did I ever give birth to him...

Why did I throw my entire life away for him?

But thankfully, I was reborn.

I returned to the days right before my wedding to Oliver.

There was still time to change everything.