Reborn to Leave

A man's heavy, searing chest pinned me down. Hands tore roughly at my collar. My lungs seized, and my eyes snapped open. I hadn't died in that mangled wreckage. Instead, I was back.

Back to this ridiculous night, exactly ten years ago.

In my last life, tonight's little "accident" gave Rhys—the boy I’d secretly loved for a decade—the perfect excuse to freeze me out. Ten solid years of emotional torture.

Right up until my final breath, all he did was count the days until he could run off with someone else. Getting a second chance?

Staring up at his face right now, acid burned the back of my throat. I drove my heel hard into his stomach and kicked him off me. I snatched my coat from the floor.

I walked out the front door. Chapter 1 I had actually been reborn. Neon lights flashed violently outside the window, while the air inside the room was suffocatingly hot.

I dug my fingernails hard into my palm until it stung. Not a dream. Wait, that wasn't right either. I was already dead.

Even if this wasn't a dream, I shouldn't be able to feel pain. "Maeve," a raspy voice grazed my ear. A sharp chill ripped down my spine. I wasn't just reborn.

I was dragged right back to this night. The night that ruined everything. "Maeve." Rhys gripped my chin, his mouth descending in a desperate, lingering kiss. I yanked my face away.

His burning breath landed on my neck instead. But it wasn't my name. He wasn't mumbling "Maeve." He was slurring "Aves"—his pet name for Avery.

In my last life, I was so naively thrilled, thinking he finally saw me, that I gave into the absurdity of that night.

It took me way too long to figure out that Rhys had always been in love with Avery. He was just blindingly drunk.

He mistook me for her. "Rhys, snap out of it!" I shoved hard against his chest. I had secretly pined for this guy for a solid ten years.

And after tonight, he paid me back with ten years of pure, unadulterated hatred. Thank god nothing had happened yet this time. Rhys froze, looking down at me.

The room was pitch black, but the glaring city lights bled through the windows. Even completely wasted, his face was pale, his eyes deceptively calm.

So calm that the old me actually bought the illusion that he was sober. "Maeve?" He must have finally focused on my face. A flicker of something unrecognizable crossed his features.

But a second later, that fleeting clarity dissolved into a murky, chaotic haze. His hands desperately framed my face, pulling me back down for another kiss.

I drove my knee sharply up into his stomach and threw all my weight into shoving him off. I scrambled for the door. I bolted out. Freezing night air hit my lungs.

I pulled out my phone, staring intensely at the date flashing on the screen. It was real. I was really back.

I rushed toward home, the memories of my past life crashing down on me like an avalanche. Rhys and I grew up together. Our families were practically glued at the hip.

Earlier tonight, his mom had called me in a panic because he wasn't picking up his phone, begging me to go check on him. I'd always known the passcode to his apartment.

I walked right in and stumbled straight into a blackoutdrunk Rhys. I had been hopelessly hooked on him for years.

Every time he whispered my name, it completely shattered my defenses. I never made it home that night.

First thing the next morning, my parents and his barged through the door and found us tangled up in the same bed. Our clothes were scattered all over the floor.

Both families had always wanted us to get together, so this played right into their hands. I was about to graduate college, and suddenly, our wedding was fasttracked.

I was practically floating during those weeks. A decade of secret longing finally paying off—I felt like I was on top of the world. I actually thought Rhys was happy about it, too.

He was always the aloof type, never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. But he tagged along for the wedding photos. He stood there while I picked out the diamond ring.

He never once said no. Right up until our actual wedding day. A girl with flawless makeup stood in the crowd, sobbing uncontrollably.

The guests all thought Rhys was leaning in to kiss his blushing bride. But instead, his jaw clenched, and he hissed directly into my ear. "Are you happy now, Maeve?

Is this what you wanted?" Before that exact moment, I had no clue who Avery even was. Rhys was two years ahead of me. We lived in the same city but went to different colleges.

I had never heard a single rumor about him liking anyone. I definitely never knew he had a girlfriend. Rhys made sure our wedding night was one I would literally never forget.

He stood there and flatout accused me of slipping something into his drink.

Chapter 2 He accused me of orchestrating the whole thing. "Maeve, you are genuinely terrifying." His voice dripped with disgust. "Your 'love' makes me sick.

You want to be with me so badly?" "Fine. You win. But you ruined my life, and I will make damn sure you never get a shred of happiness in yours." The door slammed shut.

That was the start of a tenyear nightmare. I slapped my cheeks hard, sucked in a deep breath, and forced my legs to climb the stairs. "Maeve, back already?

Is Rhys alright?" Mom's voice floated from the kitchen. I looked over and saw Dad sitting on the couch, entirely absorbed in his book. A massive lump formed in my throat.

My vision blurred. God, it was so good. This was exactly how I remembered them.

After I married Rhys, there were years where I couldn't even bring myself to walk through this front door. "Maeve?" I swallowed hard and forced a casual hum. "Yeah.

He's fine." He really was. On my walk back, I’d called an ambulance for him.

If someone had actually slipped something into his drink, the paramedics could deal with it. "Hey, come here for a second," Dad called out, pointing at a page. "What does this line say?

I left my glasses upstairs." I shoved the lingering panic deep down into my stomach.

I plastered on a smile, walked over, and spent the next hour joking around with them before finally retreating to my bedroom. I pushed the door open.

My desk was absolutely covered in photos. Framed pictures of Rhys and me, documenting every stage of our lives growing up. I pulled open the top drawer.

My old journal sat right there, untouched. My chest tightened as a memory slammed into me.

Rhys had stood right in this room, reading my private confessions out loud, word for agonizing word. Then, he ripped the pages out, one by one.

The shredded pieces of my teenage heart rained down on the floor.

He sat in my chair, his upper lip curled in a sneer. "You wanted to own me when you were ten." He tossed the empty binder onto the desk. "You're a psycho, Maeve.

Then again, only a psycho would pull a stunt like you did." What massive crime had I even committed?

What gave him the right to take a tenyearold's innocent crush and brand it as psychotic? I didn't piece the truth together until years later, right before Avery moved overseas.

We met at a highend private tearoom. Avery sat across from me, perfectly poised and dripping in designer labels.

She was a world away from the girl who had collapsed in tears at my wedding. "I'm getting married soon, Maeve.

Don't you think it's time you deleted those videos?" I stared at her, completely lost. She slid her phone across the table, a sweet, totally fake smile plastered on her face.

A screenshot of a text thread filled the screen.

The profile picture and contact name belonged to me. [ If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the hell away from Rhys. ] [ We grew up together.

Our parents practically arranged our marriage. Have you zero shame? ] [ Honestly, stay if you want. I'll just drop the video on the college forum.

Let everyone see who Rhys is actually sleeping with. ] [ Will it ruin my reputation? Who cares. If I lose him, nothing else matters anyway. ] I tapped the video thumbnail.

My stomach dropped. It was footage from that exact blackoutdrunk night. My hands shook as I unlocked my own phone.

Avery was actually in my contact list, but our message history was completely blank.

Avery let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Funny thing is, I was the one who called his mother that night.

I was just trying to be helpful, letting her know he was wasted and needed someone to pick him up." She tilted her head. "I really didn't expect you to repay our kindness like that." The words sounded like a condemnation, but her eyes gleamed with raw, undisguised triumph. "I had to protect his reputation and his future.

I had to make the agonizing choice to break up with him." She leaned in. "You must be so thrilled, Maeve." The disconnect between her heartbroken words and her smug face finally clicked.

She was making sure I couldn't use a secret audio recording against her. But she still couldn't resist twisting the knife.

She casually rested her hand on the table, her thumb slowly spinning the massive diamond ring on her finger over and over again.

Chapter 3 She finally dropped the act as she gathered her things, lowering her voice to let the real venom bleed through. "Rhys's mom hated the idea of us together.

She looked down on me. She was dead set on you and Rhys being the perfect match.

Too bad…" Avery stood up and leaned in, her breath brushing my ear. "You two are never going to have a happy life, Maeve. Rhys will never, ever forget me." She was right. We didn't.

I finally understood exactly why he hated my guts. But three years had already passed since that night. Three years of our marriage crumbling into dust.

He didn't believe me back then, and three years later, he couldn't even stomach the sound of my voice. I told him to let it go. He refused. I demanded a divorce. He wouldn't sign.

He used my parents' company as leverage, dead set on keeping me chained to him just so I could spend the rest of my life staring at his cold, deadeyed resentment.

I thought that was just how it was going to be. From childhood sweethearts to sworn enemies. It was so pathetic it was almost funny. But Avery’s second prediction came true, too.

Rhys never forgot her. In the ninth year of our miserable marriage, Avery got divorced and moved back to the States. Rhys started parading her around town.

Paparazzi caught them over and over again—fingers laced together, making out in public like teenagers. Good for them. I was finally, officially off the hook.

I specifically waited until Avery’s birthday to call him. A signed divorce agreement. What better birthday present could I possibly give her?

Rhys stayed dead silent on the other end of the line for a long time. Just when I thought he was going to shoot me down again, he finally spoke. "Come over.

We'll talk about this facetoface." I stared out the window at the relentless, driving snow. "I don't have any demands. I just want my parents' company.

I won't touch a single dime of your money." "If you don't come today, the deal is off." The line went dead. I knew there wasn't a shred of affection left between us.

I grabbed the papers and walked out into the storm. The snow was blinding. Too heavy. I slammed on the brakes. The tires completely lost traction. Kids.

An elementary school getting out right in front of me. I violently yanked the steering wheel. The entire car flipped. It pissed me off so much.

Even as I bled out in the wreckage, I was still legally Rhys's wife. [ Maeve? ] My phone vibrated against my hand, snapping me back to the present. I unlocked it. A text from Rhys.

Did the paramedics haul him to the ER? Was he finally sober? I swiped the notification away. I wasn't answering that. I scrolled through my contact list instead.

Sure enough, Avery's name was already sitting right there.

I racked my brain, but I drew a complete blank on when I had actually added her. [ Maeve, where did you go? ] Another text popped up. I frowned.

His mom was actively trying to rip them apart right now, but he and Avery hadn't officially called it quits yet.

If he was sober, why the hell was he texting me instead of his precious girlfriend? I backed out of his thread and noticed a ton of unread messages.

It was the start of the spring semester of our senior year. My college group chats were blowing up. [ Phoebe: Maeve, you packed yet?

Don't be late tomorrow! ] I stared at the screen for a solid minute before it clicked.

In my past life, Phoebe and I had planned to head over to Seattle for job hunting right about now. But then that night happened.

I thought Rhys and I were finally a real thing, so obviously, I wanted to stay in the city with him. I bailed on the Seattle trip.

My thumbs flew across the keyboard. [ Me: Phoebs, how about a lastminute change of plans? ] [ Phoebe: ? ] [ Me: Let's go to New York! ] [ Phoebe: New York? ] Chapter 4 Phoebe was my best friend.

I was just trying to figure out how to explain the sudden shift to her when her text popped up. [ New York, yes! I'm in!

I will follow Maeve to the ends of the earth! ] A genuine smile tugged at my lips. After hashing out the details with her, I pushed myself up and repacked my suitcase.

When I finished, I grabbed the framed photos off the desk, the journal out of the drawer, and the SIM card from my phone. I dumped them all into the trash. I moved to New York.

Besides Phoebe, nobody knew. Even my parents thought I was in Seattle. Avery had set her trap, but this time, I didn't step onto the board.

I had no idea what kind of backup plan she might pull, but frankly, I didn't care. Ten years of twisted entanglement. Ten years of love and hate.

Rhys, Avery—they could have each other. This time, I was cutting them out completely.

But barely a month into our New York life, Phoebe leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Word on the street is Rhys is looking everywhere for you.

He practically flipped Seattle upside down." Looking for me? Why? That last shove I gave him that night had some serious force behind it.

His head had cracked pretty hard against the wall. Was he holding a grudge over a concussion? Whatever.

I used to think I knew him inside and out, used to think our bond was something unbreakable. It was all smoke and mirrors. A fragile, pathetic illusion.

By our second month in the city, Phoebe easily landed a job, while I was still dragging my feet. "Maeve, tell me you didn't trick me into moving here just to bail," she groaned one morning.

Of course I wasn't bailing. In the third month, I finally got the message I was waiting for. A guy two years beneath me from my high school reached out.

He was pitching a startup, desperate for seed money, and asked if I was interested in investing.

In my past life, I was so laserfocused on graduating and marrying Rhys that the second I heard the project was based in New York, I instantly rejected him.

That guy ended up being wildly successful. Ten years later, he had built a billiondollar empire from scratch. This time, there was absolutely no way I was missing the boat.

I liquidated every asset I had, borrowed a massive chunk of cash from my parents, and threw my weight entirely behind Cole's team.

One of the biggest, most fatal mistakes I made in my last life was tossing my career in the trash the second I got a ring on my finger.

Even after Rhys had spewed all that venom at me, I was still stupid enough to hold out hope. I convinced myself it was just a massive misunderstanding.

I thought if I played the perfect wife, our childhood bond would magically override his hatred. By the time I finally woke up two years later, I had zero leverage.

Forget having a say in Rhys's corporate empire—I couldn't even get a foot in the door at my parents' small company. "Yo, Maevey, how's the fit?" Cole adjusted his lapels in the mirror.

We had an industry networking event tonight, and he was currently agonizing over his suit choices. I shot him a deadpan look. I had lived two entire lifetimes.

People called me Maeve. The younger kids respectfully called me 'Senior Maeve'. But this guy?

He was the only idiot who insisted on calling me "Maevey" like I was his annoying kid sister. "You look like a valet." Cole sighed and went back into the fitting room. "Makes your legs look stumpy," I said when he stepped out in the second option.

He rolled his eyes and went back in. "Too geriatric." He disappeared again. By the time he stepped out in suit number five, a sharp charcoal twopiece, I finally cracked a smile.

I decided to put him out of his misery. "Perfect. You look sharp. Total knockout." Cole beamed, his chin tilting up with smug satisfaction as he strutted over to the register.

Honestly, it was no wonder the guy was destined for billions. He was brilliant, totally laidback, and never carried an ounce of arrogance.

Working with him was a breath of fresh air. In the back of the Uber, we ran through the VIP guest list for the night one last time. For a startup, networking was literal oxygen.

A mixer like this was the ultimate hunting ground for connections. I just never expected to run into Rhys. Chapter 5 It had been six months since I moved to New York.

Six months since I was reborn. After teaming up with Cole, I nuked all my social media accounts and completely cut contact with my old circle.

I obviously never went back to my hometown. I didn't even attend graduation; I had Phoebe handle the mountain of paperwork for me.

Honestly, I spotted Rhys almost the second I walked through the venue doors. He stood next to Avery.

They looked like the pictureperfect power couple. "You know them?" Cole murmured, leaning in. I hesitated, struggling to find the right words. Mostly, I was just blindsided.

Rhys’s family empire was strictly traditional manufacturing and real estate. In my last life, they never touched the gaming industry.

He had absolutely no business being here tonight. But what happened next made even less sense. Rhys must have felt our stare, because his gaze snapped over to us.

Across the crowded, glamorous ballroom, our eyes locked.

The rims of his eyes instantly flared red. "Maeve." Without missing a beat, he ripped his arm out of Avery's grasp and strode directly toward me