Chapter 1

Three years after I took my own life for Andrew Sinclair, I time-travelled.

I found myself back on the day his assistant, Mia Linwood, spilled coffee on him for the first time.

In my previous life, I completely lost it and stormed over, slapping Mia right across the face.

I personally set off the never-ending arguments and pain between Andrew and me.

It also gave her the perfect chance to play the fragile, innocent woman.

This time, I looked at Andrew's cold, familiar face.

Instead of losing my temper, I simply smiled and handed him a tissue, keeping my composure.

*****

Mia gasped, her voice soft and panicked. The cry came just as scalding coffee splashed all over Andrew.

The crisp white shirt he wore was instantly ruined, a dark brown stain spreading across his chest.

The one responsible, his new assistant, Mia, stood frozen, clutching the now-empty cup, looking absolutely terrified.

"Mr. Sinclair, I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't mean it," Mia blurted out, her voice shaking.

Mia's eyes went red, her face drained of color like a frightened deer. She fidgeted, wanting to help wipe the stain but too scared to actually touch him.

I sat on the couch, quietly watching the whole thing unfold.

It was a scene I knew all too well.

So familiar that it was burned into my soul.

In my previous life, right here, I totally blew up, like someone lit a fuse, and I went off.

I marched over and slapped Mia right across the face, calling her a shameless bitch who was throwing herself at my boyfriend with such a pathetic stunt.

My meltdown just made Mia look even more like the helpless victim.

What did Andrew do back then?

He shoved me away so hard that I crashed into the coffee table behind me, the impact making a dull thud.

He took off his suit jacket and draped it over Mia's trembling shoulders, his voice gentle in a way I'd never heard before.

"It's okay, don't be scared," he said gently.

From that day on, everything spiraled out of control.

I became the crazy one in everyone's eyes, a jealous, spiteful woman who was never good enough for Andrew.

And Mia? She was the poor, innocent damsel everyone thought was being bullied by the world itself.

I did everything I could to tear them apart, desperate to show everyone how fake Mia really was. But all it did was make Andrew look at me colder and colder, and our fights just got worse.

On the night of their engagement party, I threw myself off the hotel rooftop.

I thought dying like that would haunt him forever, that he'd never be able to forget me.

But after I died, my ghost hung around him for three whole years.

I watched him put a ring on Mia's finger, saw them get married, have kids, and act all lovey-dovey like they were living in some perfect romance.

He never once visited my grave.

Turned out, to him, I was just an annoyance he couldn't get rid of, no matter what.

But now, I was back.

Back to the very beginning of all the heartbreak.

Andrew's icy stare swept past Mia and landed on me, like he was just waiting for me to snap, same as always.

Mia shot me a timid look, but behind that innocent act, I caught a barely-there glint of provocation and eager anticipation in her eyes.

They were both just waiting for me to lose my mind.

I took a deep breath, swallowing back the surge of hatred rising inside me.

Then I stood up, wearing a composed smile, and pulled a tissue from the coffee table.

Instead of heading toward Andrew, I walked over to Mia.

Meeting her shocked eyes, I gently dabbed away the coffee splashed on the back of her hand.

"Such a careless moment, huh?" I said softly, with a hint of concern. "Did it burn you?"

Mia was totally caught off guard, frozen in shock.

She just gaped at me, mouth hanging open, unable to get a single word out.

Andrew's brows furrowed, almost imperceptibly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes.

I didn't pay him any mind.

I kept my gaze on Mia, my voice gentle. "Try to be more careful next time. Andrew's a stickler for cleanliness. He really hates it when anyone touches his clothes."

Then I turned to Andrew and handed him the remaining tissue.

"You should wipe it off now, or it'll be a pain to clean once it dries," I said.

My voice was steady, as if I were just chatting about something mundane.

Andrew stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes stormy and full of emotions I couldn't figure out.

Finally, he took the tissue from me.

"You-" he started, like he wanted to say something.

But I cut him off, still keeping that perfect smile. "Hang tight, I'll grab you a fresh shirt."

I turned and headed for the bedroom, closing the door and leaving all their stunned faces and confusion outside.

Leaning back against the door, I finally dropped the act.

My heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it might burst right out of my chest.

Turned out, keeping my cool around them took way more strength than losing my mind ever did.

But I knew I couldn't make the same mistakes all over again.

All that fighting, jealousy, and acting crazy? None of it ever got me anywhere.

If I couldn't stop them from being together, then why should I keep playing the villain?

This time, I'd rewrite my story.

I was going to play the matchmaker myself and deliver Mia, Andrew's little helpless kitten, right into his arms.

Then I'd grab everything that was rightfully mine and walk away without a second thought.

I pulled a crisp, brand-new white shirt from the wardrobe.

I had personally ironed it for him.

Back then, I was always doing things like this for him, thinking it would win a man's heart.

Now I saw how ridiculous that was.

When I walked out with the shirt, Mia was already gone.

Andrew was standing alone in the middle of the living room, shirtless, his well-defined muscles on full display.

He was staring down at the stain on his chest, looking like he was lost in his own thoughts.

Hearing my footsteps, he looked up.

"She's gone?" I asked, playing it cool.

"Yeah," he said, his gaze never leaving my face. "Janet, you're really different today."

I smiled, walked over, and with practiced ease helped him into the shirt, buttoning it up for him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Really? What's different?" I asked, keeping my tone light.

"You didn't get mad," he said.

"Why should I be mad?" I met his gaze, calm and steady. "She's just a new assistant, still figuring things out. No point blowing up over something so minor and killing the vibe for everyone."

As I softly fastened each button across his chest, my touch was gentle and careful.

I said, "Andrew, we've been together three years. I'm done fighting over things and people that just aren't worth it."

Every word came straight from the heart.

I added, "I'm tired, Andrew. Really tired."

I said those words so softly that he could barely hear them, but they hit Andrew hard, like a stone dropped straight into his heart, leaving him completely stunned.