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After You Killed Me, I Chose Myself Novel Cover

After You Killed Me, I Chose Myself

After a decade of marriage, Vera Sullivan's husband Byron runs her down with his car, blaming her for the avalanche that killed his pregnant mistress, Dora. When Vera miraculously wakes up, she has regressed to the day before her thirty-fifth birthday. Standing before her is Byron, impatient to leave with Dora for another dangerous climb. Having experienced his lethal betrayal, Vera decides she will no longer beg for his love. If he wants to walk into danger, she will let him.
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Chapter 2

“Byron, whether or not I can support myself is my problem. Don't waste your concern on me.”

“I have plenty of evidence that you've been unfaithful. If you don't agree to this divorce, I guarantee that by tomorrow, everyone in Havenport will know about you and Dora Fox.”

Byron agreed to the divorce.

Because the moment I threatened to expose her relationship with Byron, Dora burst into hysterical sobs, pounding her fists against her lower belly, crying that she didn't want the baby anymore.

“Babe, I've already swallowed enough humiliation following you around with no title, no status. I don't want our child growing up being pointed at and called a bastard born in the shadows.”

“I don't care what Vera Sullivan does to me. I just feel so sorry for our baby. Only three months along, hasn't even had the chance to see this world, and already this is happening.”

The second Dora cried, Byron lost all reason. He murmured to her, voice soft and coaxing. :“Dora, you and the baby both matter to me. I won't let either of you go through that kind of public scrutiny.”

Dora hiccupped through her tears. :“Really, babe? Then promise me. Promise you'll divorce Vera Sullivan.”

Byron turned to look at me. His expression was dark, almost frightening. :“Vera, since you want a divorce so badly, fine. I'll have my lawyer draft the agreement today.”

“You're the one at fault. I want sixty percent of the assets.”

A vein throbbed at Byron's temple. :“Vera, are you out of your mind? You haven't worked a single day in all these years. Haven't earned a single cent. What gives you the right to sixty percent?”

“The fact that we never signed a prenup. The fact that I'm still legally your spouse. I'll say it again, Byron. If you don't want your little girlfriend dragged through the court of public opinion, agree to my terms.”

Strike the snake where it hurts.

Threatening Byron was useless.

Threatening the woman he treasured above all else? That worked.

Dora pouted, her voice sweet and coaxing as she turned to Byron. :“Babe, just give her the sixty percent. You know I'm not one of those women who's in it for the money. I'm with you for you.”

If anyone else had said that, I would have laughed in their face.

But Dora actually meant it.

Byron offered her yachts, villas. She turned them down.

Byron offered her priceless jewelry. She turned that down too.

All she wanted was Byron himself.

She wanted him at her side for every extreme sport she could find.

She wanted his undivided tenderness, his absolute favoritism.

She'd even set up a social-media account to document every moment of her “romance” with Byron.

The account name was as blunt as she was.

The Old Man & Dora.

Over five hundred thousand followers and counting, with comments flooding in every day begging her to post more.

Honestly, I'd always wanted to crack open Dora Fox's skull and see how her brain was wired differently from a normal person's. But then again, I wasn't any better. I'd been just as stupid.

Dora's words did the trick. No matter how unwilling Byron was, he agreed to give me sixty percent.

Half an hour later, both our names were on the divorce agreement.

I capped the pen and told them to get out.

“Byron, per the agreement, this house is mine. Take Dora and leave.”

“It's too late tonight. Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock, the courthouse. Don't be late. Once the divorce filing is done, you can take Dora to the southern Himalayas.”

Byron said nothing. He took Dora and left.

The engine turned over. I stood at the window, expressionless, watching the Maybach disappear into the night.

In my last life, that was the car that killed me.

When news of Dora's death reached Havenport, Byron lost his mind. He screamed that I owed Dora her life, that I owed their unborn child its life.

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