Chapter 2

I gasped awake, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs. The familiar antiseptic smell of the hospital was gone, replaced by the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans. Sunlight streamed through large windows, casting golden patterns across wooden tables. People chatted animatedly around me, their voices merging into a pleasant hum of background noise.

Where was I? Where was the pain that had become my constant companion?

I looked down at my hands—smooth, unblemished by IV marks or the telltale thinness of disease. My fingers trembled as I touched my face, feeling full cheeks instead of the hollow ones I'd grown accustomed to seeing in hospital mirrors.

"Would you like a refill, miss?"

I jerked my head up to see a barista standing beside my table, coffeepot in hand. His name tag read "Mike"—the same Mike who had worked at Café Lumière ten years ago, before they closed down and became a chain pharmacy.

Ten years ago.

My eyes darted to the newspaper someone had left on a nearby table. The date stared back at me in bold black print: May 15, 2013.

Impossible.

Yet I recognized everything—this exact table by the window where I used to spend my lunch breaks before Howard and I got engaged. The same chipped mug with the café's logo. Even the book I'd been reading lay open beside my half-empty cup: "The Great Gatsby," my favorite novel during my twenties.

I was back. Somehow, impossibly, I had returned to a time before everything went wrong.

A loud commotion drew my attention to the counter. A businessman in an expensive suit was arguing with the barista.

"I ordered a triple shot vanilla latte with almond milk, not this!"

While he berated the flustered employee, a young woman casually reached over, picked up a different coffee cup from the counter, checked its label, and walked away with it—stealing someone else's order without a second thought.

The businessman turned around moments later, confusion crossing his face when he found his replacement drink missing. He scanned the café, but the thief was already gone, enjoying a coffee she hadn't paid for.

Something clicked in my mind as I watched this small drama unfold. A perfect metaphor for what I needed to do.

I needed someone to steal my fate—my cursed destiny with Howard. Someone to take my place in that nightmare. And who better than the woman who had coveted my life, my husband, even as she pretended to be my friend?

Susan.

A cold calm settled over me, replacing the initial panic of my situation. If this was real—if I truly had been given a second chance—I wouldn't waste it. This time, Susan would be the one betrayed. She would be the one suffering while Howard's mother criticized her every move. She would be the one Howard would grow tired of and plot against.

I gathered my belongings, leaving enough cash to cover my coffee plus a generous tip. As I stepped outside, the spring air felt intoxicating after so many months confined to a hospital bed. My body moved with an ease I had forgotten was possible, each step unhindered by pain or weakness.

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside the gleaming glass building of Meridian Marketing, where I had worked for seven years before cancer forced me to quit. My employee ID was still in my wallet, looking newer than I remembered. With a deep breath, I pushed through the revolving doors and entered the lobby.

Everything was exactly as it had been—the sleek reception desk, the abstract art on the walls, the constant click of heels against marble floors. People I hadn't seen in years walked past me, alive in my memories but oblivious to the fact that I had watched some of them attend my funeral in another life.

I took the elevator to the fourteenth floor, my mind racing with plans and possibilities. If I truly had traveled back in time, I knew exactly how events would unfold if I didn't intervene. I knew who would betray me, who would stand by me, and most importantly, I knew how to change everything.

As I walked down the hallway toward my old department, a muffled cry for help caught my attention. It was coming from the women's restroom.

"Hello? Is anyone there? I'm stuck!"

I pushed open the door to find an empty bathroom—or so it seemed until I heard another call from the last stall.

"Please, if someone's there, the lock is jammed, and I can't get out!"

"Hold on," I called, approaching the stall door. "I'll help you."

After examining the lock, I could see it had slipped out of alignment. "Try pushing the door while I pull from outside," I suggested.

After a few attempts, the door finally swung open, revealing a young woman with flushed cheeks and embarrassed eyes. She was petite with shoulder-length brown hair and wore a new employee badge.

"Thank you so much," she breathed, straightening her skirt. "I was starting to think I'd be trapped in there all day. I'm Helena, by the way. Helena Wilson. It's my first week here."

"Marie Lewis," I replied, offering my hand. "Welcome to Meridian."

Helena's face brightened with recognition. "Oh! You work in Creative, right? I've heard good things about you."

I smiled, wondering what this young woman would think if she knew the truth—that in another life, we had never met because by the time she joined the company, I was already fighting for my life in a hospital bed.

"Actually," Helena continued, lowering her voice, "I asked Susan Frost for help with the filing system earlier, but she just...ignored me. Walked right past like I wasn't even there."

My smile faltered at the mention of Susan's name. Even in this timeline, her true colors were already showing.

"Susan can be...focused on her own priorities," I said carefully. "But don't worry about the filing system. I'd be happy to show you how it works."

Helena's grateful smile warmed something inside me that had been cold for too long. "Would you really? That would be amazing. Maybe we could grab lunch after? My treat, as a thank you."

I nodded, suddenly realizing I had just made my first ally in this new timeline. "I'd like that, Helena."

As we walked out of the restroom together, a plan was already forming in my mind. Susan had stolen my life once. Now, I would orchestrate the perfect scenario for her to steal it again—only this time, she would be taking a poisoned chalice, and I would be the one watching her drink from it.