Seven-Year Itch: My Ex-Husband Doesn't Know I've Been Reborn

The first person you cut from your life should be the one who once meant everything. When Daniel Smith became a business sensation, I was his first betrayal—the very person who had stood by him through everything. At seventeen, he'd chase me around campus with love notes and call me his "little moon" in that sweet voice of his. At twenty, I took a knife for him and lost my ability to have children forever. At twenty-four, we said our vows at the altar. Everyone thought I had it all. Daniel adored me, loved me, treated me like I was his whole world. Had I not died once, I might have believed the same. But having been reborn, I knew that the man who supposedly couldn't live without me already had another woman. Soon she'd take my place, and eventually, she'd push me off a cliff, leaving me to disappear without a trace. He assumed I'd stay forever, just like last time. But I'd already bought my ticket out—one way, no return. When I finally slipped away, Daniel fell apart completely. He had everyone looking for me, went on national television begging, paid fortunes for "missing person" headlines across every major website, crying for me to come home. "She meant nothing to me!" "I made a terrible mistake." "Just one more chance, please?" As he stood there with those desperate, red-rimmed eyes, I couldn't even muster the interest to look at him properly. "Too late for that,” I said, taking the hand of the man beside me, my smile polite but distant.