Chapter 1

I stared at the bomb strapped to my body, then at Aria Nelson across from me, also tied to a chair.

The red timer was counting down with only one minute and thirty seconds left.

My husband, Bryan Price, the best bomb disposal expert in the city, rushed in, out of breath.

The kidnapper grinned wickedly, "Officer Price, the bombs on both of them are identical, but you only get one shot. Between your wife and your first love, pick one to save, and the other gets blown to pieces."

Bryan's gaze lingered painfully between the two of us.

I knew he suffered from severe face blindness.

But after three years of marriage, I always believed he'd recognize me by instinct.

He looked at me, his lips moving as he muttered, "I'm sorry."

Then, without a second thought, he spun around and lunged at Aria.

"Bryan, save me," Aria cried, tears streaming down her face.

I could only watch, powerless, as he swiftly and skillfully snipped the wires on her bomb.

The countdown hit zero.

Amid the deafening explosion and the all-consuming heatwave, my final thought was that Bryan's intuition could fail.

*****

"Bryan, save me." The shrill cry dragged me out of the agony of burning alive.

I shuddered, eyes snapping open in terror, only to realize I was lying perfectly fine in my bedroom.

Outside, the night was pitch black, and the digital clock on my nightstand read 3 a.m.

Beside me, Bryan Price was frowning deeply, his forehead slick with cold sweat. He was clearly trapped in a nightmare.

He murmured unconsciously, "Aria, don't be afraid."

That name was like an icy blade, stabbing right through my heart and pulling me out of my daze, back into cold reality.

I thought I was dead. I should have been blown to pieces in that explosion.

I held out my hand and stared at my fingers, which were delicate because I had never done any housework. A sense of utter absurdity washed over me.

I time-traveled and woke up a month before I was kidnapped.

"Aria, are you okay?" Bryan cried out urgently in his sleep, then suddenly bolted upright, jolted awake from the nightmare.

He was breathing hard, his eyes still unfocused.

After a few seconds, his gaze finally settled on me, and his whole body relaxed as he let out a long, relieved breath. "Abigail, are you okay? Did I disturb you?"

He instinctively reached out to pull me into his arms, his voice rough with sleep and tinged with apology. "I had another nightmare about an old mission."

If it were the past, I would have immediately stepped close, gently rubbed his back, and softly told him, "It's okay. It's all over now."

But now, as his hand was about to touch my shoulder, I jolted upright like I'd been electrocuted, jerking away from his touch.

My body remembered before my mind could catch up.

The despair of being left behind as the countdown ticked away and the agony of being consumed by flames were burned into every cell of my body.

Bryan's hand froze in mid-air. The dim bedside lamp cast shadows across the room, hiding his face, but I could feel the tension in the air suddenly thicken.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sounding confused and a little hurt.

I kept my eyes away from him, slipped out of bed, and walked barefoot across the cold floor straight to the living room.

"I'm going to get some water," I spoke in a calm tone that felt almost alien to me.

Behind me, everything was silent.

I could picture Bryan sitting on the bed, those eyes that could decipher the most complicated bomb circuits, watching my back in confusion, as he tried to make sense of my sudden change. But he'd never get it.

In my previous life, he never truly saw my pain. Now, I wouldn't let him see my pain ever again.

I stood in the dark living room for ages, until my feet were numb from the cold, then finally carried my glass of water back to the bedroom.

Bryan was still in the same position. When he saw me return, he finally moved.

He pulled back the covers on his side and reached out to me. "Come on, get in. It's cold standing barefoot on the floor."

I ignored his outstretched hand, climbed into bed from the other side, and lay down with my back to him, the back of my head facing the handsome man, who now felt icy cold to me.

"Abigail, what's wrong with you?" He couldn't help himself anymore, his voice edged with irritation. "Are you mad because I woke you up?"

I closed my eyes, scoffing inwardly. It was always like this.

In his eyes, all my silence was nothing more than me being upset and throwing a tantrum.

"No," I replied coolly. "I'm tired. Let's sleep."

Once again, silence settled behind me.

I could feel his gaze burning into my back like a spotlight. After a long moment, he sighed and lay back down.

The mattress gave a gentle shake, then everything went still again.

There was an invisible gulf between us. We were husband and wife, sharing a bed, yet it felt like a whole world separated us. There was a gulf between us, as wide as life and death.

I spent the whole night wide awake, only finally passing out from exhaustion as the first light crept in.

When I woke up again, Bryan was already gone.

As the leader of the SWAT bomb squad, Bryan's routine was stricter than any soldier's.

On the table, he'd left a sandwich and a glass of warm milk for me, with a note pinned beside them in his wild, scrawled handwriting.

Bryan: [Honey, I'm heading out for training at the station. Don't forget to eat breakfast. Did I scare you last night because I was stressed? Sorry. Tonight, I'll bring you your favorite cream puffs from that shop. Love you.]

At the end, he'd drawn a crooked heart.

Back then, whenever I saw a note like this, all my frustrations and sadness would melt away, and my heart would feel so sweet that it could burst. I would carefully tuck the note away, placing it in a special box.

That box was filled with every bit of proof he loved me from our three years together.

But now, I picked up the note, expressionless, walked into the kitchen, and fired up the stove. The blue flame flared to life with a hiss.

I let go, and the note drifted down, instantly swallowed by the fire, curling, shriveling, and turning into a tiny heap of black ash.

It was just like my love, shattered and burned to nothing.

Right before I died in my previous life, I always thought Bryan loved me. But he proved with his actions that his so-called love for me was worthless.