Reborn and Betrayed The Billionaire's Ex-Wife Strikes Back

The year I turned fifty, my husband's company went public.

A reporter asked him—a man celebrated for his success—whether he had any regrets in life.

He was quiet for a moment, then said:

"My greatest regret is that thirty years ago, I didn't..."

He never finished the sentence, but everyone knew what he meant.

Thirty years ago, a fire had torn through the factory. He'd inhaled too much smoke and collapsed. I was the company's lead engineer, and I'd dragged him out of the inferno with my bare hands.

The price I paid was burn scars covering half my body. Hideous, twisted scars.

My fingers were mangled beyond repair. I never worked again.

But he didn't abandon me. He honored our engagement and treated me well for the rest of our lives.

The reporter sighed. "If you could do it all over again, I hope you'd be able to save the one you love."

He nodded in agreement.

Then I woke up.

We were both back. Back in that fire.

He wasn't unconscious this time. His eyes were bright, blazing—but they were fixed on something behind me.

Before I could throw my arms around him, before I could even cry out in joy that we'd been reborn together, he shoved me aside.

He lunged past me and scooped up the intern assistant pinned beneath a fallen beam.

"Sylvia! I finally have the chance to save you!"

So that was it. His regret had never been about me.

……

"Where's the ambulance? We have someone injured here!"

He screamed the words, clutching an unconscious Sylvia Swanson in his arms as he stumbled toward the exit.

The force of his shove had sent me staggering. I nearly fell into the flames all over again, nearly repeated the nightmare of my last life.

I threw myself to the ground and rolled, then crawled through the choking smoke until I was out of the factory.

My throat burned like I'd swallowed a razor blade. But it was nothing compared to the dull ache splitting my chest open.

Eugene Henson knelt outside, cradling Sylvia, his face alight with the wild, tearful joy of a man who'd recovered something he thought was lost forever.

"Sylvia, this time I saved you. Thank God. Thank God."

"This time, we can start over."

Sylvia Swanson was an intern assistant who'd joined the company just six months before the fire. In my previous life, she'd been one of the employees who perished. My only impression of her had been a vague sadness at a life cut short.

At the funeral, I'd asked Eugene to light a stick of incense on my behalf.

I never knew. My husband's greatest regret—the thing that haunted him across a lifetime—was that he hadn't saved her.

How long had they been involved? When did it start?

My mind was still reeling when an employee's panicked shout cut through the chaos:

"Mr. Henson, you made it out! But where's Rose Fox? She heard you were trapped inside and ran straight into the fire to find you!"

The joy drained from Eugene's face. His whole body went rigid.

Only then did he remember me—the woman who'd been crippled saving his life in their last life.

Only then did it hit him that the person he'd shoved aside, the one who'd nearly fallen into the fire, was me.

"Rose!" His voice cracked, raw and hoarse. He scrambled to his feet.

He turned around and met my eyes.

Empty. Hollow. Stripped of everything.

He rushed over in three strides, reaching out to check my burns.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, I—"

I stepped back.

His hand froze in midair.

"Rosie, I—"

He looked away, guilt written across his face. But after a moment, he drew a deep breath and forced himself to meet my gaze again.

"Rosie, I didn't realize it was you. At least this time you're not as badly hurt."

"This time... let's go our separate ways."

"You saw it yourself. Sylvia's been in my heart for a long time. In our last life, she died, and then you were maimed saving me. I had no choice but to take responsibility and honor the engagement."

I said nothing. His jaw tightened.

"I already married you once. I already did my duty. In this life, none of that has happened yet. We can still fix this. Can't we just set things right?"