Chapter 1

The night before my wedding, I video-called my fiancé, Brian Dawson. But to my shock, the person who picked up was Brian from three years in the future.

Clutching the marriage certificate I'd received, I asked excitedly about our life together after marriage.

I said, "Brian, was our wedding modern or traditional? Did we argue after getting married? Did we have an adorable baby? Is the baby's name Danny?"

Brian answered each question patiently with a smile.

He told me. "We had both a modern and traditional wedding. Our married life has been sweet, and we never argued."

But when I mentioned having kids, Brian suddenly interrupted, "Actually, you didn't need to have children yourself.

"Your best friend, Kenna, had twins for me. They're already six years old."

I gripped my phone tightly, my eyes wide with shock.

But Brian continued, savoring the memory. "The day I confessed my feelings to you, Kenna stripped off and climbed into my bed. That's when the kids were conceived.

"As we agreed, the boy's name is Dominic, and the girl's is Danna. They both look like me."

My mind went blank, and my hand holding the phone shook uncontrollably.

But Brian misunderstood my silence, his voice mocking. "You don't believe me? You can come to the future in three years and see for yourself."

*****

As soon as Brian finished speaking, everything spun, and a wave of dizziness hit me out of nowhere.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself three years in the future, still holding the marriage certificate from that day.

Looking around, I spotted the wedding house Brian had designed for me, not far away.

Remembering what Brian said, I couldn't help but walk straight to the door.

I entered my birthday, but the password was wrong.

Next, I tried Brian's birthday, but that didn't work, either.

With one try left, my hand shook as I typed in Kenna's birthday.

The lock clicked open.

"Welcome home, Kenna, my wife." The smart lock system played a voice message Brian had recorded for her.

His voice was gentle, familiar, and even happy, but it made the marriage certificate in my hand feel like it was stinging my eyes.

I stood there, stunned, and wandered into the villa, barely aware of my surroundings.

In the middle of the grand living room stood a framed wedding portrait of Kenna and Brian.

The massive photo took up an entire wall, boldly showing off their happiness.

Each of them held a child by the hand, both smiling brightly, beaming with joy.

The background showed they were in Graphia.

All these years, Brian only went there once, on the day we got engaged.

He said he had urgent business, so he left me to run the engagement ceremony.

I knew how hard he worked, so I didn't care about people laughing at me.

But I never imagined he'd ditch me to marry someone else.

Their smiles in the photo stung my eyes, and I had to look away in embarrassment.

But then, I suddenly heard the unmistakable sounds of passion from the bedroom upstairs.

With my hand trembling, I pushed the door open. Inside, the scene was so wild that everything around the bed was shaking.

On the nightstand was a ten-inch wedding photo of Brian and me, looking like some throwaway bonus with the big portrait in the living room.

My smiling face in the picture was smeared with a glaring white mess.

When the door opened, Brian glanced at me indifferently.

He tightened his grip on the woman's waist and pressed a kiss onto her.

"Relax, sweetheart. It's just the maid," Brian said.

In front of me, they kissed with wild, desperate passion, changing positions over and over.

As Kenna finally drifted off from exhaustion, the photo frame crashed to the floor with a loud bang.

The shards flew up and cut my face, but Brian held Kenna close, making sure she was safe.

She didn't even stir.

From childhood to marriage, this was the first time Brian had stood there and watched me get hurt.

When we were little, he could barely walk, but he'd always notice I was about to fall before any adult did, rushing over to catch me and using himself as my cushion.

He'd beat up the kids who bullied me, force the girls who picked on me to drop out, and even get the creeps who harassed me thrown in jail.

For twenty-five years, his embrace always came before the pain.

But now, Brian didn't even glance at me. He ran his fingers through Kenna's hair and, in a cold voice, ordered, "Clean up that broken mess and toss it out. Don't make a scene."

I stood in the doorway, quietly watching as our wedding photo was roughly swept up and thrown away, shattered so badly it could never be pieced together again.

Meanwhile, Brian expertly wiped Kenna down, dried her hair, and pulled the covers over her.

Only after he finished did he finally look at me, his face full of impatience.

He said, "Hannah, I let you out of the mental hospital today because the twins' birthday is coming up.

"If you do your job as their godmother, maybe I'll think about letting you leave for good."

I stood there, frozen, my throat tightening as if someone was squeezing the life out of me.

"What... what did you say?" I managed to choke out.

Mental hospital? Godmother? I had no idea what he was talking about.

I wondered how everything had turned upside down in these three years.

My confused expression made Brian arch his eyebrow.

Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, the impatience on his face slowly shifted to surprise.

"You're the Hannah from three years ago," he said. "It was that call yesterday that brought you here."

He spoke with certainty, and with a nostalgic look, reached out toward me as if he wanted to ruffle my hair, like he used to.

I pulled away, my face drained of color, lips quivering. "Why are you so sure about that?"

Brian's hand paused in mid-air, and he slowly withdrew it, chuckling softly.

He said, "If you were Hannah from three years in the future, you'd have come at me with a knife.

"Hannah, three years from now, you'd only want me dead."