Chapter 1
My husband brought his mistress to our home to revel.
I was locked out of the house and could not get in.
I knew what came next. He would jump from the third floor.
Then, he would pretend to have just come back from outside and trick me into going out.
He did this to buy time for his mistress to escape.
Because I had traveled back several years.
In my previous life, I had clung to the door and refused to leave, no matter what, and I was beaten black and blue.
This time, I agreed to leave with him without hesitation.
I would even forgive his infidelity and try to live a good life with him.
Because I knew that, in fact, after he jumped off the third floor, that fall had already caused him a concussion.
He had only a few days left to live.
*****
When Clifford Gonzales came storming over, rubbing his head and looking pissed, I knew the gears of fate had already started turning.
"Are you crazy or what?" he snapped.
"I told you I wasn't home. Now do you believe me?" he said.
I looked Clifford up and down.
I couldn't help but notice his collar buttons were all out of place, and there were mud and grass stains on his shoes.
Fifteen minutes ago, I had just got back from a work trip out of town, lugging my suitcase behind me.
Just as I got to the door, I heard a man and a woman inside, laughing and messing around.
I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I knew for sure the guy was my husband.
As soon as I tried the doorknob, everything inside went dead quiet.
The lock clicked open, and I was just about to push the door open.
But then I heard someone rush up behind the door and quickly lock it from the inside.
There was no need for further explanation.
My husband had taken advantage of my absence to bring another woman into our home and enjoy himself.
I banged on the door, shouting as loud as I could.
"Clifford, open up!" I yelled.
No one answered.
I called Clifford, threatening him that if he didn't want things to get ugly, he'd better open the door right now.
But Clifford just flat-out denied he was even home.
"The lock's always been wonky. You probably broke it again," he said.
That kind of lie might fool a kid, but I wasn't buying it.
I kept pounding on the door.
Just like in my previous life, Clifford scrambled to get dressed and jumped straight out the third-floor window, landing in the landscaping.
Then Clifford came rushing over to me, panting.
He cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable as I sized him up.
My shouting had already drawn the attention of neighbors from upstairs and downstairs.
The lady across the hall, Daisy Wallace, saw Clifford come back and jumped in to smooth things over.
She said, "Dear, don't get so worked up.
"Your husband's got a point. If he was really inside, how could he be standing out here with you?
"It's just a misunderstanding." A few other neighbors nodded along, backing her up.
Clifford's face flushed with anger, and he reprimanded me in a hushed, harsh tone.
"Quit screaming like some banshee," he muttered.
He said, "Come with me."
He yanked me by the arm, trying to haul me into the hallway.
I held on tight to the doorknob, and he couldn't budge me.
That really pissed him off.
Clifford whipped his head around and shot me a glare.
His face was dark with rage.