My Husband Loved Me In My Past Life

I snapped my eyes open, dragging in a deep, shaky breath. The room was familiar—a massive plush red bed, surrounded by heavy drapes of black and gray that seemed to close in on me. The air-conditioning hummed, and the chill raised goose bumps along my arms.

This place… I knew it all too well. The Perez estate!

Wait—I could see? My corneas were back!

I pinched my cheek to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Pain answered me. I was alive. I’d been thrown back six years, to the exact day I was forced into Elianna’s place in an arranged marriage to Jonathan Perez, the scarred, disabled eldest son of the Perez family.

Rumor had it Jonathan had a violent streak. Two years ago, he survived a mysterious plane crash that left him even more unhinged and terrifying, with doctors claiming he wouldn’t live past twenty-nine. Whoever married him was doomed to a lonely life.

Several marriage negotiations had already collapsed after Jonathan's crash and the ugly rumors that followed. The Perezes and Kellys had once planned a dynastic match between Jonathan and Elianna as part of a broader corporate alliance. When Elianna's health suddenly became the family's excuse to pull her out, the Kellys sent me instead—her fraternal twin, close enough in appearance to make the substitution plausible from a distance.

Just as I was piecing it all together, I caught the familiar squeak of wheelchair wheels rolling down the hallway. The door swung open without warning.

I turned to find Jonathan in his wheelchair, head slightly bowed. His hair was a mess, shadowing those dark, narrow eyes. His skin looked ghostly pale under the cold light, giving him an almost unnatural aura. Scars ran from the corners of his eyes to his sharp jawline, cutting across features that must once have been striking and making him look even more forbidding.

His long, thin fingers tapped against the armrest, the blue veins visible under his skin. Jonathan seemed to notice the unexpected guest on his bed, his brows knitting together as he angrily knocked an antique vase off the nightstand. It shattered. "Get out!" he roared.

In my past life, this exact moment had scared me half to death. I tripped on my way out, smacked my head, and nearly died. New York tabloids had turned Jonathan into a monster after the crash, calling him unstable, dangerous, and impossible to live with.

Though I was nominally his wife, the rumors and fear drove a wedge between us. Worse, my family coerced me into stealing confidential merger documents and forging Jonathan's signature on a contract that cost Perez Industries billions.

But Jonathan never blamed me. He showered me with jewels and elegant dresses, trying to make me smile—even though I was obsessed with my first love, Pius Blake, and ignored Jonathan’s affections entirely. I eventually pushed him away, demanded a divorce, and drove him out of the country.

After the divorce, my own family framed me for a crime. Five years in prison, and that’s where I met my end.

Thinking about it now, a sharp pang hit my chest. In my previous life, Jonathan was the only one who truly cared for me, even willing to die by my side. Now, seeing him alone, suffering, shut out by everyone—I made up my mind. This time, he wouldn’t go through it alone.

"Jonathan," I called softly, pushing myself off the bed. "Tonight’s our wedding night. Are you really asking me to leave?" I added with a gentle tease. "Too bad none of the previous brides—or your father—ever figured this out… you… can’t… perform."

In my past life, Jonathan hadn’t just lost his mobility and his looks in that crash—he’d lost other vital functions too. It wasn’t until our second year of marriage that he was healed.

Jonathan’s face went from pale to dark. "You’re not Elianna! Who are you?"

His fingers dug into the armrest, his eyes sharp and piercing, full of suspicion. This woman standing in front of him wasn’t afraid?

I walked barefoot to the door, wearing the red silk nightgown the Perez family had laid out—elegant, alluring. My dark eyes held steady despite the blemishes on my face. Leaning down, I placed my hands on the armrests of his wheelchair. "I’m Luciana Crawford. Crawford is the name of the family who raised me; Elianna Kelly is my biological twin. I'm the bride the Kellys sent you."

"The party outside isn’t over yet. If you really want me gone, I’ll walk out there and tell everyone the rumors are true—that Jonathan Perez can't satisfy a wife."

A vein pulsed in his forehead. His scarred face tightened into a mocking smile. "You’re threatening me?"

Instead of answering, I slid into his lap, wrapping my arms around his shoulder. "No, it’s an incentive, Mr. Perez."

Jonathan went completely rigid.

Threat flickered in his eyes as he gripped my waist hard, his voice like ice. "Get off. I don’t need you." He shoved me, and I landed on the carpet. It didn’t hurt, but it reminded me—this wasn’t the Jonathan who had loved me in another lifetime.

This was our first meeting. To him, I was a stranger. I couldn’t expect him to feel anything for me yet. But in my past life, he had cradled my ashes, avenged my death, loved me with a ferocity I never deserved.

With that thought, there was no way I could leave him to struggle alone. "But what if your doctors are wrong about how much function you've lost?" I offered, keeping my voice steady as I moved closer to examine his leg.

I pressed along the nerve pathway below his knee, then applied a sharp sensory stimulus at the ankle—quick, controlled, and just enough to test whether the signal was getting through.

A gun suddenly pressed against my temple. "Miss Crawford, what exactly did you do to Mr. Perez?"

Ahmir Oliver—Jonathan’s bodyguard—had appeared, his face hard as stone. The cold barrel dug into my skin. One slight twitch of his finger and I’d be in worse shape than the other brides.

But Jonathan’s expression shifted. His breathing turned uneven. "Wait," he commanded, his voice cracking through Ahmir’s concentration.

Ahmir glanced at Jonathan’s form in the wheelchair, then at me, his face caught somewhere between confusion and shock.

He lowered the gun, stepping back to take his place behind Jonathan.

"Mr. Perez, do you believe me now?" I asked, a faint smile on my lips, even though my forehead was slick with cold sweat. My heart was racing. I wasn’t about to die so soon after getting a second chance.

"Jonathan, I can do more than manage the pain. I think I can help you regain function in your legs, but I need time, proper equipment, and a consistent rehabilitation plan."

"I was forced into this marriage. The Kellys sent me in Elianna’s place, and they couldn’t care less if I live or die. I have nowhere else to go. I just need some shelter."

"Once I’ve saved up enough to live on my own, I’ll leave and won’t bother you. So—my fee for healing you is staying here until then."

In my past life, I had healed my second brother’s legs. And when I provoked Jonathan by pinching his leg earlier, I confirmed his muscles hadn’t atrophied. His condition was treatable.

Sensing a chance, I looked up at him, my eyes filled with determination. Despite everything I’d been through, I refused to let a single tear fall.

Something about me seemed to resonate with him—stirring a recognition he couldn’t place. He looked away, his jaw tightening. Then he pulled his leg back from my touch, gave me one unreadable look, and wheeled away. "Do as you wish."

Ahmir stood there, stunned. Jonathan Perez had actually agreed to let the substitute bride stay?