Chapter 2
Before I got this second shot at life, he stood there, just like before, clutching a bouquet of roses, eyes all soft and earnest. "Isabella, marry me. I'll make you the happiest woman on earth, I swear."
I was a mess, tears streaming, nodding like an idiot, thinking I'd hit the jackpot.
Yeah, big mistake.
Forever was a hell of a long time.
Long enough for every sweet promise to turn into a cruel joke.
"Look," I said, each word sharp and steady, "I'm not marrying you."
Jonathan's jaw hit the floor, eyes bugging out. "What? Why? We had a plan, Isabella!"
"I changed my mind. I'm going to college."
"College?" He laughed, loud and mocking, like I'd just said I was joining the circus. "What's a girl need with all that book stuff? I'm about to land a sweet gig at the factory. I've got you covered."
That line again.
"I've got you covered." For forty years, those words were his weapon, shutting down every dream, every complaint.
Like his paycheck meant I should be his round-the-clock maid, smiling through it all.
"Isabella, don't do this. The whole town's watching. We sent out the wedding favors already! You bail now, and I'm gonna look like a total loser." Jonathan said.
His ego. Always his damn ego.
Same old story.
"Then go get your stupid favors back," I said, voice cool as ice.
Jonathan's face went dark, his jaw clenched tight.
"Isabella Ross, what's your problem? You mad I didn't swing by last night?" he demanded. "Work was nuts.
"Laura—Director George Scott's daughter—was back from the theater troupe. We threw her a welcome bash. I couldn't just ditch."
Laura. Her name stabbed like a knife, right in the chest.
In my old life, it was always Laura. He'd blow me off for her every single time.
When I was giving birth, he was holding her hand through some "illness."
Our anniversary? He was hauling boxes for her move.
If I dared complain, he'd swear I was being dramatic.
Him and Laura? "Pure as driven snow," he'd say. I heard it so much my ears bled. I stopped fighting, stopped caring, stopped thinking.
I became the obedient little shadow he wanted.
Until I had a stroke, collapsed at home, and became worthless to him.
No hesitation—he ripped off the mask and kicked me out. That was when I saw who he really was.
I cut him off. "Jonathan, from now on, your life's got nothing to do with me. Just go.
"I'm done. I need a break."
His face twisted, a wild mix of shock and rage.
Finally, he snapped, "Isabella, you're gonna regret this. Don't come crying to me later!"
He stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls rattled, dust drifting down.
Mom rushed in, eyes wide. "What the hell, Isabella? Why'd Jonathan storm off like that?
"You throw another fit or what?"
To her, Jonathan was the golden ticket—good job, solid family, the works. Marrying him was like winning the lottery, and I was the luckiest girl alive.
I didn't bother explaining. "Mom, I'm going back to school. I'm taking the college exam."
She froze, mouth hanging open. "Are you out of your mind? You're about to tie the knot, and you wanna play student?"
"I'm not tying any knots."
That hit like a grenade. She was speechless, totally thrown.
The next few days were a circus.
Dad smoked in silence, brooding. Mom sighed and nagged, taking turns trying to talk sense into me.
"Isabella, did you and Jonathan have a spat? He's such a great guy," Mom pleaded. "Honey, a girl's gotta marry well. Careers? That's guy stuff."
Jonathan's family showed up too.
His mom, the woman who'd lorded over me for forty years in my old life, grabbed my hand, all crocodile tears.
"Isabella, Jonathan's just a bit hot-headed, but he's a good man," she said, acting so concerned you'd think she actually cared. "You two grew up together. You've got history.
"Don't toss it over some silly fight."
I looked at her, memories crashing in. Me, weak from a miscarriage, barely standing, and her demanding I cook for Jonathan.
Her sneering, calling me a "useless hen" when I couldn't have kids.
In my old life, I regretted everything.
Life wore me down until I thought that was all there was.
So I swallowed it. Kept quiet. Endured.
And ended up alone, broken, freezing, and starving to death.