Chapter 1

My name was Eleanor Sutton, and for most of my life, I lived in my sister June Sutton's shadow.

Because of how much I looked like her, I got to marry Arthur Goodwin, the man I had loved for years, and spend thirty years as June's replacement.

I learned her preferences and copied her mannerisms. I locked away every part of who I was, all in the name of love.

On my fiftieth birthday, I got into a car accident. When I was dying, I remembered something Arthur once said to his friends when he was drunk.

He said, "If June were still alive, I wouldn't have given Eleanor a second glance."

Turned out the love I had held onto for thirty years had all been a cruel joke.

My heart went cold, but when I opened my eyes again, I somehow found myself back at twenty years old, the day before our wedding.

This time, I was not marrying him.

Instead, I threw myself back into my passion for coffee.

Years later, when I stunned the world and became an internationally celebrated coffee artist, Arthur forced his way through the crowd backstage, his voice trembling. "Eleanor, I'm sorry. Please come back."

I sneered.

Why would I waste my life on a man who realized my worth far too late?

*****

The force of the crash still seemed to echo in my bones. At fifty, I died in a pile-up on the highway.

Right before everything went dark, I saw Arthur running toward me from far away. For the first time in thirty years, the man I loved actually looked scared out of his mind.

However, it was too late.

I had lived thirty years as June's replacement, doing everything I could to act like Arthur's perfect wife. Now, I could finally walk away from this.

Before my eyes closed, what echoed in my ears was not his desperate call, but what I had overheard the night before my fiftieth birthday, when Arthur was drunk with his friends.

One of them asked, "Arthur, what is Eleanor to you, really? It's been so many years."

I heard glasses clink, and then Arthur's voice came through, familiar but cold, with that rough edge from drinking.

He said, "Eleanor? I married her only because she looked like June."

He paused and gave a small laugh, the sound sharp enough to make my chest tighten. "If June were still alive, I wouldn't have given Eleanor a second glance."

In his eyes, the thirty years I had devoted and the effort I put into imitating June had been nothing more than a cruel joke.

At that moment, whatever was left of my heart died completely.

Therefore, when death came for me, I actually felt a little relieved.

*****

"Eleanor, wake up. It's late." My mother's voice, warm with amusement, sounded beside me as sunlight slipped through the curtains, stinging against my eyes.

I jerked my eyes open, thinking I'd see a hospital ceiling, but what I saw instead was my bedroom from when I was a teenager.

Faded posters clung to the walls, and the air was thick with the familiar scent of cedar wood and sunshine.

I turned my head stiffly, directing my gaze toward the full-length mirror beside the bed.

In the mirror was a young face, with a hint of confusion still lingering on it. The skin was smooth, completely wrinkle-free, but the eyes looked hollow.

It was the face of my twenty-year-old self, yet inside this body lived the shattered soul of a fifty-year-old woman.

Beside the bed hung the luxurious wedding dress, custom-made to match June's taste. It loomed there like an elegant cage, silently mocking me.

My mother pushed the door open, her face glowing with excitement. "Get up and try on the dress. Tomorrow is your big day. Arthur said he'll send people to pick you up. The whole Larkmont is going to envy our family."

The wedding tomorrow?

I raised my hand and looked at my smooth skin. Memories came rushing back all at once.

I was certain I had come back. I was back to when I was twenty, the day before my wedding to Arthur.

Last time, I wore this exact dress and walked in full of excitement, not realizing that I was stepping into a beautiful cage that trapped me for thirty long years.

My mom continued chattering excitedly about how grand the wedding would be, but I couldn't take in a single word.

I looked at my reflection, which was so similar to June's. The confusion in my eyes slowly faded, replaced by a cold stillness.

With a second chance in my hands, was I really going to walk back into that nightmare?

No. Never again.

I grabbed the phone next to my pillow. It was an outdated flip phone, and the date on the screen showed it was the day after my twentieth birthday.

I pulled up the number I knew by heart. It had stayed at the top of my contact list for thirty years, but it had never once reached out to me.

The call connected, and Arthur's cold, flat voice came through. "What is it?"

He was as distant as ever.

In my previous life, every time I heard that voice, my chest would tighten, and I would lower myself even further, hoping to soften him, but now, I felt nothing at all.

Still holding the phone, I opened the window and let the cool morning breeze hit my face.

"Arthur," I said, my voice eerily calm, as if I were talking about someone else's life. "Cancel the wedding."

There was a short pause, then he let out an annoyed scoff. "Eleanor, what kind of game are you playing now?"

I didn't answer his question. I stared at the lively world outside the window, saying slowly, "We're done."

Without waiting for his reply, I hung up.

From this moment on, thirty years of misery ended right here.

*****

Half an hour later, a black Bentley screeched to a stop outside my house, loud and arresting.

Arthur stormed in, anger radiating from him. His handsome face was tight with displeasure, and the way he looked at me made it seem like I'd done something terrible.

My parents had been thrown into panic by my phone call just now. The moment they saw him, they hurried forward to greet him.

"Arthur, thank goodness you're here. Eleanor is acting out of her mind. You have to talk to her," my mother said, tears rolling down her face.

My father's face hardened as he barked at me, "Eleanor, have you caused enough trouble? Apologize to Arthur right now."

Arthur ignored my parents and walked right up to me. He was taller than me, and the shadow he cast made me feel completely boxed in.

He looked down at me with cold superiority, his voice thick with the arrogance of someone used to being in control. "Eleanor, stop being childish. You know exactly why I married you."

Of course, I knew.

It was because I looked like June, I always listened, and was willing to be reshaped into whatever he desired.

In my previous life, hearing those words would have made me lower my head, swallow my feelings, and give him a sweet smile.

However, the fifty-year-old Eleanor wouldn't do that anymore.