Avery's POV

My husband and I had been reincarnated twice, and not once had we ever been apart.

Yet, somehow, he hated me.

Kevin Johnson hated me with a kind of quiet, bone-deep fury that no one else seemed to notice.

And I felt it every time he looked at me.

But I also knew him better than anyone ever had. I knew that under all that anger, Kevin had the softest damn heart.

He’d never admit it. He’d probably laugh in my face if I said it out loud.

But I saw it. I always saw it.

And honestly, if he didn’t have that kind of heart, how else could you explain what he did?

How could he have thrown away the ashes of Tiffany Leighton—the woman he loved so deeply—just to protect me when a group of thugs dragged me into that alley?

He died to save me.

Stabbed over and over, right there in front of me.

And still, with his last breath, Kevin reached out, gathered Tiffany’s ashes in his bloodied hand, and looked straight at me.

That smile. God, that smile.

Half cruel. Half gentle. All broken.

The kind of expression that wouldn't fade with time. One that would sink into your bones and stay there.

“Avery,” Kevin said, voice barely holding on, “I don’t regret saving you. But I hope we never meet again in the next life.”

Kevin's parents came to collect the body. They didn’t let me see him. Not even once. Not even for a second.

No goodbye. No closure. Just a slammed door and silence.

They treated me like I had put the knife in him myself.

His dad, Gregory, looked at me like I was the reason his son was on the ground.

And maybe in some twisted way, I was.

The man looked ten years older than the last time I saw him. His posture was weak, his hair turned white, reflecting the grief that had gutted him. But Gregory didn’t break. Not fully.

He just stood there, hollowed out, looking at me like I was a bad decision he never got to undo.

“If your father hadn’t made that promise to me before he died,” he said, voice low and rough, “I would’ve never stopped Kevin from marrying Tiffany. Never. But I owed him. And Kevin… Kevin kept saving your life like it meant something. Like it was fate. But this, whatever this is between you two, ends now. It has to.”

Then came Eleanor, Kevin's mom.

God, the way she looked at me like I was poison.

She didn’t yell or cry. Eleanor just stared at me with those sharp, tired eyes that had probably spent the whole night awake. Eyes that had seen their son brought home in a body bag.

“Avery,” she said, her voice cold and measured, “if you have even a shred of conscience left, let my son go. Let him rest. Don’t follow him into the next life. Don’t make him suffer for you again!”

Then Eleanor folded her hands like it was Sunday mass, and she said it.

“Please. Let him go. We’re begging you.”

——

And that? That’s what stuck. Not the blood. Not the funeral I wasn’t allowed to attend.

Not even Kevin’s last words.

That one sentence, 'Let him go,' burrowed into my head and stayed there for ten years.

So I didn’t go home, didn’t show my face, and didn’t do anything except work.

I poured every damn part of me into researching the artificial constellation sequence.

Seven Stars. Something half the world said was a fantasy.

But I made it real.

When we finally pulled it off and it finally worked, I signed up as the first test subject without hesitation.

Professor Aldridge looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Avery,” he said carefully, “even if the constellation sync holds, we don’t know the long-term damage. It could do things to your body. Things we can’t reverse. You need to really think this through.”

I just smiled, peeling off my lab coat like it was any other day. “It’s alright, Professor. I just want to see if there’s still time to fix what I broke. To make something right.”

Then I turned, hit the button, and didn’t look back.

What came next was pure agony. A powerful shockwave ripped through me, like it was trying to squeeze my soul through the tiniest hole. Then a blinding white light flashed so brightly it felt like it was burning my eyes.

And then I opened my eyes.

I was standing right outside Saint Jude’s Sanctuary. Something smooth and cool rested in my palm, a fate stone carefully crafted by the chaplains here.

At that moment, I knew exactly what day it was—the day Eleanor had begged us to return to the sanctuary and keep our promise.

“Avery,” a voice snapped beside me, irritated, “what are you spacing out for? Carve the damn thing. I don’t have all day.”

I turned around.

Kevin.

He was alive—twenty-five again. His face was full of life. No scars. No hint of death in his eyes.

My throat closed up so fast I didn’t even feel the tears until they hit my cheeks.

Kevin frowned. “Seriously? Crying over a carved, useless stone? What game are you playing now, huh? Did my mom drag me here so that you could put on this whole lovesick act?”

I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat.

I swallowed hard, bit the inside of my cheek, and forced myself to smile. “Can you go wait outside for a sec? I want to give you a surprise.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes at me, clearly suspicious, but didn’t argue. He just dropped the stone he’d already carved on the table and walked out.

I picked it up, my fingers gently tracing the familiar letters carved into the smooth, flat stone—his name, Kevin Johnson.

And then, something hit me deep inside.

Loving him the way I did never brought either of us peace. We never found happiness. All we ended up with were empty spaces, wide, aching holes where our dreams used to live.

A young chaplain walking by noticed me frozen in place.

“Miss Avery,” he said softly, “if you don’t carve your name soon, you’ll miss the last bus down the mountain.”

I blinked, nodded, and picked up the carving knife.

My hand trembled just a little as I carved the name:

Tiffany Leighton.

Stroke by stroke, line by line, I traced every letter with care.

When I finished, I set the stone down and finally let out a breath. For the first time in years, it felt like I could actually breathe.

Saint Jude’s wasn’t just any sanctuary. It was known for answering prayers about love.

If your bond were true, heaven would protect it. But if what you brought was a cursed bond, it would always turn against you. Every single time.

Avery's POV

For more than ten years, Eleanor and I have made it a tradition to visit Saint Jude’s annually, like clockwork.

When the chaplain saw me this time, he gave me that same calm smile he always had.

Gentle, warm, but also layered. It was meaningful.

Then, the young chaplain repeated what he had told me years ago:

Kevin and I were tied together by fate, destined to cross paths again and again. He saved me more than once in the past, and that's how we ended up married.

Hearing this revelation, Eleanor lit up like it was a sign from the heavens.

She grabbed my hand, teary-eyed and glowing. “Avery, this is wonderful news! You and Kevin are truly meant for each other. That's fate!”

Fate. Yeah.

Except fate isn’t always kind. And it’s never simple.

Later, Kevin really did save me.

Of all things, it was an avalanche. However, he wasn’t quick enough to save Tiffany. She was also trapped, but by the time they unearthed her, there was little left. She merely had a weak heartbeat and spent many years in a hospital bed, waiting to die.

And death truly claimed her.

Kevin never forgave me—not even once. Every bit of his grief, pain, guilt, and heartbreak was directed right at me, blaming me for being there. Perhaps if I hadn’t been there, he might have been able to save her instead.

And yet, when it came down to it, he still chose me.

I used to think the chaplain’s words were beautiful. I remember how they filled my chest with this ridiculous hope. I clung to them like they meant something divine, like maybe the universe was on our side.

Now I know better.

It wasn’t a blessing. It was a warning.

The fate that connected Kevin and me wasn’t some golden ribbon of destiny.

It was a chain. Heavy. Tight. Unforgiving.

And I’d been too happy, too stupid, to see that look in the chaplain’s eyes when he smiled.

I’d mistaken his pity for reassurance. And that blind, naive hope kicked off a whole storm of heartbreak I never saw coming.

At the altar, I handed the two fate stones to the chaplain.

He squinted at the carvings, his expression going cautious. “Avery, if the names on these are wrong, the blessing transfers to someone else.”

I looked him straight in the eye and nodded. “This is how it’s supposed to be.”

It wasn’t too late, not yet. I could still make sure Kevin got what he really wanted.

As I stepped out of the sanctuary, a couple passed us on their way in.

The girl was practically glowing, clinging to her boyfriend’s arm like they were the only two people in the world.

“I heard the magnolias in the garden are about to bloom,” she said, bouncing on her toes. “And they’re holding a ceremony for the fate stones when they’re at their peak. Let’s stick around a few more days, okay?”

The guy smiled and reached out, playfully rubbing her nose. “Alright, alright. Whatever you want.”

I watched them walk away, maybe longer than I should’ve. There was just something about them. The ease. The comfort. The softness.

But Kevin and I never had that. Not even once.

Of course, he noticed.

He laughed, sharp and cold, like he couldn’t believe I’d even dream about something like that.

“Don’t waste your time. I’m only here because my mom insisted. If your dad hadn’t done my family that one favor, there wouldn’t have been the slightest chance for us.”

Then he looked away as if the sight of me physically hurt him.

“I’ve got something important tonight. Don’t try anything. If you screw it up for me, I swear to God, you’ll pay for it ten times over.”

I already knew what important meant. He didn’t need to spell it out.

It was Tiffany’s birthday.

He’d been planning it for weeks, booking out an entire venue, hiring drone choreographers for a whole light show, and syncing it to her favorite music—all to make sure her night was perfect.

I smiled. Just a little. It took effort.

“I won’t get in the way.”

He blinked at me like I’d spoken a foreign language.

Then his face twisted, and he scoffed. “Good. At least you’re finally learning your place, Avery.”

We reached the bottom of the mountain around seven. Tiffany’s party was in the opposite direction from where we lived—no way he could make it to both.

The car slowed to a stop.

Kevin glanced at me, suddenly unsure of himself. It was rare to see even a flicker of hesitation in him.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and said, “I’ll get out here. I can grab a cab.”

He blinked again. “What’s up with you? Did praying knock some sense into you? You usually throw a tantrum whenever I see Tiffany and try to mess things up.”

I turned to him and smiled. A real one this time. Soft. Calm. Resigned.

“I’m tired, Kevin. I don’t want to always be the villain in your story. I’m not going to fight it anymore. And I won't stop you from seeing Tiffany. Just go. You’ll be late.”

I didn’t wait for a response. My body was already starting to feel heavier, the pain simmering beneath the surface, harder to ignore.

I stepped out of the car and closed the door gently behind me, letting out a slow breath.

Kevin glanced at his watch and looked up at me once more.

This time, he looked different. He was still guarded but serious.

“Um, thanks,” he said quietly.

Then he drove off.

No goodbye, no look back.

But honestly, even before this, he never really looked back.

Avery's POV

Eventually, the pain got to be too much. I couldn’t fake my way through it anymore.

I doubled over on the side of the road, crouched down low with both arms wrapped around my stomach like that would help. My face was a mess with sweat, tears, and maybe both. I couldn’t even tell anymore.

Ten minutes passed before the waves of pain subsided enough for me to breathe, much less, stand.

This had to be one of the side effects Professor Aldridge warned me about.

I glanced around. We were out in the middle of nowhere. There was no real service, no cabs, no one around—just trees, the road, and the faint taste of blood in my mouth.

Still, I knew how this would go.

If I missed Tiffany’s birthday party, Kevin would pin it on me.

Another strike. Another grudge. Another reason to hate me just a little bit more.

Then I heard a familiar voice and turned toward the phone's screen.

The livestream had started.

Tiffany’s birthday bash was playing in real time.

Samuel, the driver, noticed me staring and chuckled to himself.

“Kids these days,” he muttered. “Romance is like a sport now. Fireworks, drones, diamonds. It's got to be exhausting trying to outdo each other.”

I didn’t say anything.

I glanced up at the driver’s phone resting on the dashboard. The video showed Kevin fastening a necklace around Tiffany’s neck, but it wasn't just any necklace.

I recognized it instantly.

Gregory and Eleanor asked Kevin to take a picture of it back when it was still on display, thinking it’d be the perfect wedding gift—for me, for us.

Kevin did take the photo. But instead of giving the necklace to me, he told them straight to their faces:

“The Blue Heart stands for true love. Giving it to Avery would only tarnish it. You can’t force love when it's not really real.”

That’s what he said, just like that.

The next day, Tiffany showed up wearing it like it had always been hers.

Gregory went ballistic.

He stormed out with the old family whip like he was ready to bring Kevin down a notch.

But Kevin didn’t back down. He let himself get hit and didn’t even flinch. He’d rather take the pain than admit he was wrong. That day, he gave Tiffany the necklace without hesitation.

And from the way he looked at her now, I think he was proud of it.

I stared at the screen, watching her standing beside him, shy and smiling, like she belonged there. My chest twisted up tight.

The cruelest kind of heartbreak is knowing that the person you love was never yours to begin with. And yet, you throw yourself into loving them, like maybe that will change something.

Kevin’s fingers trembled slightly as he strummed his guitar, but his eyes never wavered. He played for her like she was the only person in the world—gentle, steady, completely devoted.

Still, I could see the pain behind those eyes.

And deep down, I knew exactly why.

It was because of me.

Years ago, during a winter hike, I slipped and fell. Kevin had caught me before my head hit the rocks, but in doing it, a jagged branch jammed through the center of his palm. Ten centimeters deep. And ever since then, even the slightest bit of pressure could send shooting pain through his whole arm.

When the song ended, he brushed sweat from his brow and shifted just enough for the scar to show.

Someone standing nearby noticed. “Hey Kevin, what happened to your hand? That looks nasty.”

Another guest joked, “C’mon, you know Kevin. Probably got it saving someone like the knight in shining armor he is.”

Kevin barely looked up. “Oh, I forgot,” he said.

Just a quick, flat reply—detached and distant.

He forgot.

And that broke me.

“Kevin’s so good to Tiffany,” someone gushed. “He even rented out Harborview Bay for her. If that’s not real love, what is?”

Of course. Harborview Bay. I should’ve known.

The place was legendary for anniversary dinners, proposals, and those over-the-top love stories people post about online. There’s even some cheesy myth that if your relationship is ‘witnessed’ there, it’ll last forever.

I used to constantly hint at it to Kevin, sometimes subtly, sometimes not so subtly.

He’d just roll his eyes and say, “God, you’re so naive. If love worked like that, people wouldn’t end up miserable half the time.”

And then came the one that stuck, “And besides, what love? Between us? Avery, you need to stop mixing up fantasy with reality.”

I’d never forgotten those words. They haunted me.

Maybe if I’d let go sooner, Kevin wouldn’t have died carrying so much regret. Perhaps I wouldn’t have wasted so much time begging fate to fix something it never gave me in the first place.

“That’s right,” I heard another voice say. “Avery Summers needs to take a hint. Kevin and Tiffany are perfect together. He’s got the charm, she’s got the looks. Honestly, it just makes sense. If she tries to come between them again, karma's coming for her.”

I ducked my head and laughed under my breath, bitter and quiet.

Karma. Sure.

I’d probably earned every ounce of it.

Samuel heard me sniffling quietly and glanced back in the rearview mirror, his voice gentle. “You okay back there, miss?”

I wiped my face, forcing a small smile.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just one of those cries that helps more than it hurts.”

Because that’s what it was.

I was crying because Kevin got everything he wanted. Because I’d done what I came here to do.

Because even if he never once loved me, I still appreciated the kindness he had shown me.

...

When I finally got back to the Johnson's estate, Eleanor was already standing at the door, waiting like she’d been tracking my arrival by the minute. She remained as sharp as ever and consistently exuded a no-nonsense demeanor.

“Avery,” she called out, cutting straight to it. “Did you finish the carving? That’s not something to be sloppy about. And where’s Kevin? Why didn’t he come back with you?”