Part 2The Do-Over Deal

Walking into the living room, seeing Sarah sitting there... even with a lifetime of memories, I faltered.

She was in her prime—young, beautiful, radiating that elegant, icy aura that I used to worship.

In my last life, that face hooked me instantly. I said yes without hesitation.

But her beauty only stunned me for a second this time.

I knew she didn't love me. She didn't belong to me.

So, no matter what she asked, I wasn't going to play the hero.

My dad saw me and waved me over, feigning annoyance. "I told you to hurry up! Always late. You act like a child!"

He raised a hand to smack me playfully, but I dodged with an agility I hadn't possessed in forty years.

Hilarious. I lived to be eighty. My dad right now is only in his forties. I'm not the scared kid I used to be.

I laughed. "Dad, you're a grown man. Watch your image in front of guests."

Everyone froze. In their minds, I was still the immature heir.

After a beat, Dad laughed and slapped my back hard. "You brat! Making fun of your old man now?"

He turned to the Vances. "My son and I are close. He treats you like family, that's why he's not putting on airs."

The awkward tension in the room dissipated.

But Sarah... she was staring at me blankly. There was none of the anxiety or panic she had in the last timeline.

It was weird.

I sat next to her and put on a polite, distant smile. "I came in a rush, didn't bring a gift. You don't mind, right?"

In the last life, I heard she was in trouble and brought a mountain of gifts to impress her. She didn't even look at them.

Even after we married, I showered her with expensive jewelry and surprises. She never smiled.

That's when I learned: if she doesn't love you, nothing you do matters.

I expected her to ignore me.

Instead, she smiled—a genuine, bright smile. "It's okay, Hugh. I'm just happy to see you."

I froze.

In my entire previous life, right up until I flatlined, Sarah Vance never smiled at me like that.

Does she get off on being treated coldly?

I didn't dwell on it. Soon, her parents would bring up the "punk" issue and the potential marriage alliance. That would be Sarah's cue to pull me aside.

I was ready to reject her. Let her run off with her bad boy. I was cutting the cord.

Sure enough, halfway through dinner, the elders started hinting at marriage.

Right on cue, Sarah grabbed my arm, asking me to help her find something in the other room.

I looked up, expression flat. "No thanks. Ask the butler. I don't know where anything is."

The table went silent. Everyone looked at me.

Since childhood, I was Sarah's shadow. I revolved around her. Rejecting her was unprecedented.

But Sarah didn't get mad. She reached out to grab my hand directly.

I dodged, my face darkening.

I didn't know what game she was playing, but I wasn't participating.

"Personal space, Sarah," I said sharply. "Don't get handsy. I'm not interested in you."

My parents were mortified, apologizing profusely to the Vances, claiming I must be in a bad mood.

But Sarah? She wasn't angry. She looked... thrilled? Her smile got even brighter.

She didn't push it. We finished the meal in silence.

Her parents finalized plans to marry her off to someone else.

I let out a long sigh of relief.

Finally. I broke the cycle.