When the yacht capsized in the storm, there was only one spot left on the life raft.

My fiancé hesitantly reached out to me, but after hearing me say, "Go save Lily," the tension in his face melted into relief.

He pulled his old flame onto the raft without a second glance, leaving me to die on the sinking ship.

In my past life, he saved me first only to protect his reputation, then spent the rest of his life tormenting me in atonement for the woman he truly loved.

He gripped my hand and vowed, "Coralie, I have to marry you!"

On our wedding night, he smashed a wine glass against the wall, embedding shards of glass in my leg. He sneered, "Lily was in a thousand times more pain when she died! This is all your fault!"

When I demanded a divorce, he aimed his sports car toward a cliff. "We owe her our lives to repay that debt! What makes you think you can just run away?"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the yacht capsized.

This time, I stepped back, giving his old flame the chance to survive.

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1

"Coralie, hurry up!" The words barely registered before the realization hit me: I was reborn. Our yacht was already capsizing in a Caribbean storm.

There was only one spot left on the life raft.

Only Preston knew how to operate the raft, claiming one spot by default. That left one for the two of us.

After a moment of agonizing indecision, Preston finally extended his hand to me.

But I took a step back, refusing him.

"Preston, save Lily." I wouldn't carry the weight of another death on my conscience. Not again.

Hearing this, Preston visibly relaxed, the deep furrow in his brow smoothing out.

Without another moment of hesitation, he grabbed Lily's hand and hauled her onto the raft.

"Coralie… My first choice should be you, but if you insist… Stay put! I swear I'll send someone back for you."

With that, he and Lily scrambled away without a backward glance, as if they were afraid I'd change my mind.

How pathetic.

The situation had been the same in my past life.

He had taken me first, leaving Lily alone on the sinking yacht.

We contacted the Coast Guard the moment we reached shore, but it was too late. Lily had already drowned. They only recovered her body.

At first, Preston showed no emotion at the news. He calmly handled Lily's funeral and arranged a large sum of compensation for her family.

His only request was that she be buried in the most scenic cemetery, claiming she deserved the best resting place. Of course, I didn't object. I even asked if he wanted to postpone the wedding.

But he refused instantly.

I still remember how he gripped my hand, his voice tight as he said, "Coralie, I have to marry you!"

Only later did I understand. He was determined to marry me, yes—but only so he could torture me, forcing me to atone for Lily's death for the rest of my life.

What did her death have to do with me?

Watching them disappear, I immediately started plotting my own survival.

After all, I couldn't be sure Preston would call for help this time.

In our past life, he’d sent a distress signal the moment we had reception, frantic to save the childhood sweetheart he'd left behind.

This time, the love of his life was safe by his side. Would he even remember I existed?

In both lives, the person he truly wanted to save was always his childhood sweetheart, Lily.

Their bond ran deep, I suppose. They'd grown up together, and all those years Lily spent by his side were irreplaceable.

He’d only saved me in our past life to avoid the public outcry of abandoning his fiancée for another woman. He valued his reputation more than his love for Lily.

Now, I had made the choice for him. He should be thanking me.

Once they were swallowed by the wind and rain, I sprang into action.

Although the yacht was sinking fast, there were still useful things on board.

As water swamped the deck, I scrambled into the cabin and found the flare gun and first-aid kit. As a surgeon, I was always prepared for the worst on a sea voyage.

My foresight was finally paying off.

I grabbed a few energy bars and bottles of water, then found a large, floating piece of the hull to use as a makeshift raft.

When the yacht finally slipped beneath the waves, I took a deep breath, clung to the wreckage, and focused on conserving energy while I waited for rescue.

The Caribbean wasn't completely deserted; it was a popular route for wealthy yacht owners. I just had to be seen.

Unfortunately, it was the middle of the night. Even if a yacht were nearby, the roar of its engine would likely drown out my cries.

Despite this, I didn't give up. I paddled with all my might toward a possible shipping lane.

But fate seemed determined to work against me. The sea, relatively calm moments before, was now churning violently in the downpour.

It was just like the night Lily died in my past life. A torrential rain had begun, hampering rescue efforts and sealing her fate.

Unlike her, I wouldn't give up.

I clutched the piece of wreckage and kicked harder.

After drifting for what felt like an hour, I finally spotted a black superyacht slicing steadily through the storm ahead.

I immediately raised the flare gun and fired a flare in its direction.

"Help! Is anyone there? Please, help me..." The roaring downpour swallowed my cries.

My hope dwindled as the yacht forged on, oblivious to my plight. Despair began to creep in.

But I still didn't give up. I fired another flare.

"Is anyone there? Please, save me!"

Just as I was about to lose my last shred of hope, a searchlight swept across the water in my direction.

The light swept across the waves, searching.

He saw me! I was saved!

A wave of pure relief crashed over me, and I immediately swam towards the beam of light.

"Help! Please, save me!"

Using the last of my strength, I finally reached the side of the yacht. A rope ladder was quickly lowered the moment I got close.

Climbing it, I nearly slipped several times, my limbs shaking with exhaustion.

The moment my feet touched the deck, my legs gave out, and I collapsed.

But before my knees could hit the deck, a pair of strong arms caught me.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, thank you," I gasped, leaning against his solid chest, utterly spent.

The man frowned, then wordlessly swept me into his arms and carried me into the warm cabin.

He handed me a set of dry clothes. "Here. You're soaked. Get into these."

"Oh, thank you."

After he left, I quickly peeled off my wet dress. Everything had happened so fast, I hadn't even had time to change into something more practical for the sea.

Just as I finished changing, a knock came at the door. I opened it.

The man returned with a bowl of steaming broth and set it on the table before me.

Only then did I get a good look at him. He had chiseled features and a calm, powerful aura, like a soldier. But I was too hungry to dwell on it.

I devoured the soup before looking up to thank him properly.

"Hello, my name is Coralie Vance. Thank you so much for saving me."

He glanced at my still-damp hair and the gash on my arm from the wreckage. "I'm Julian Thorne. That wound needs to be treated."

He draped a towel over my head. "Let me get your hair, then we need to look at that wound."

I was a bit taken aback. "Huh?"

"There's a lot of bacteria in seawater. If you don't treat it, the wound could get infected."

"Okay, thank you."

He draped a towel over my head and gently began to dry my hair. Then he carefully applied antiseptic to my wound, preparing to stitch it.

I watched him, biting my lip. As his fingertips brushed my skin, a warmth I hadn't expected bloomed in my chest.

I remembered one time after we were married, Preston came home drunk.

I helped him to his room and suggested he drink less. In response, he flew into a rage and violently hurled his glass against the wall.

Shards of glass sprayed across my calf, and blood immediately welled from the cuts.

I cried out, the sight of my own blood making the pain feel sharper.

Preston just stood there, watching me coldly.

"It hurts, doesn't it? When Lily died, I bet she was in a thousand times more pain than you! But she's gone now! If I hadn't saved you, she wouldn't have drowned! Coralie, this is all your fault!"

A chill spread through me as his words sank in, freezing my heart.

After a long silence, I finally found my voice. "Preston, your rivals sabotaged the yacht, and you were the one who chose to save me! Now you're blaming me? Are you insane?"

The drunkenness vanished from Preston's face, replaced by an even deeper cold.

"Coralie, I never wanted this marriage. If you hadn't told my grandmother you liked me, I wouldn't have been forced into this."

I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. He was pathetic.

"So this is all on me? Not your rivals, not your family—me. You're a coward, Preston."

With that, I turned and left, calling a car to take me to the hospital.

From that moment on, our relationship was shattered. And from that moment on, I never showed him an ounce of vulnerability again.

Yet now, this stranger was being so careful, so afraid of hurting me.

My eyes suddenly stung. I quickly turned my head, taking a deep breath to force back the tears.

"Thank you," I said.

Julian looked up, his smile disarmingly warm. "You're welcome."

"Mr. Thorne, are you in there?" A voice called from outside.

A man in pajamas and black-rimmed glasses stood in the doorway. His gaze lingered on Julian for a second before landing on me.

"Sir, you wanted me to take a look at our guest?"

Julian nodded and turned to me. "This is our ship's doctor. I asked him to give you a quick check-up."

I nodded.

Julian stepped aside for Dr. Miles.

The doctor gave me a simple examination and asked a few questions before concluding I was fine, just deeply fatigued.

Dr. Miles stood up and addressed Julian. "Ms. Vance doesn't have any serious injuries. She's just exhausted from exposure. All she needs is rest."

Julian nodded and walked Dr. Miles to the door, exchanging a few quiet words.

While they were talking, I glanced out the porthole. The rain was lashing down, and the sea was a black, churning void. I felt a strange sense of relief to be safe inside.

When Julian returned, he said softly, "We're about to dock. Where do you live? I can give you a ride."

For some selfish reason, I didn't want to go home.

My parents were rarely there, and even when they were, I hardly saw them.

Besides, given their track record, they probably wouldn't notice if I disappeared for a month.

As for Preston... if I got a second chance, he probably did too. He was likely holding Lily right now, cherishing this new beginning with her.

We were married for five years in our past life. He never took me to a single social event, never once shared my bed. He seized control of my family's company and cut off my finances. When anyone asked about me, he'd just sneer, turning me into the butt of every joke in our circle.

They could have their happily ever after.

I glanced at Julian, my voice taking on a pleading tone. "I have nowhere to go. Could you... let me stay with you for a few days?"

He didn't answer immediately, so I tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him with wide, watery eyes.

If I remembered correctly, he was the youngest son of the Thorne family.

In my past life, when I wanted a divorce, he was the only one who had tried to help me. He was a good person.

Seeing my pitiful expression, he suddenly lowered his head, his gaze intense. "I'm not the good guy you might think I am. Staying with me comes at a price."

His sudden proximity made my head spin. I could smell the faint, clean scent of cedar on him.

"Fine. Whatever you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," I replied firmly. He suddenly smiled.

However, before anything more could happen, the yacht docked.

I’d been in the sea for so long that a fever was beginning to set in.

As Julian was carrying me off the boat, a familiar voice called out.

"Coralie? Is that really you?"