The night my son's fever hit 104°F and he slipped into a coma, Corey Vance was pinned beneath his band's female drummer as she poured her heart out to him.

It was my desperate phone call that snapped him back to his senses. He turned her down.

Corey came home and sat at our son's bedside, tears streaming down his face.

Not long after, the drummer quit the band. Less than six months later, her wedding invitation arrived in my husband's mailbox.

From that day on, Corey couldn't sing anymore. He abandoned his music career, came back to the family, and played the role of devoted house husband.

Fifty years we walked side by side. Everyone who knew us said we were the perfect couple.

Then I fell gravely ill, and Corey shoved a divorce agreement and a pen into my hands.

"If you hadn't made that phone call, Letitia and I might've still had a chance."

"Please, just sign it and set me free. At least then I can still face Letitia with some dignity... Caroline Jenner, it's been fifty years. Neither of us owes the other a thing."

I shattered. Under the weight of his stare, my trembling hand signed.

Then I pulled out my breathing tube and ended it all.

When my eyes opened again, I was back on the night my son's fever spiked.

This time, I dialed a different number. My voice was ice.

"The funding programs backing Corey Vance's band. Shut them all down."

...

I hung up, rushed my son to the hospital, and didn't let myself breathe until the doctor finished treating him.

My mind still hadn't fully surfaced. Behind my eyes, I could see it: Corey in my previous life, hunched over my hospital bed, begging.

His skeletal fingers had dug into my arm, carrying the obsession of half a lifetime.

"Caroline, I've been more than good enough to you. Just sign the divorce papers. I don't want a single thing."

"I told you back then, you and I aren't from the same world. Please... let me go. Once we're divorced, at least when I'm in the ground, Letitia won't resent me for never giving her a chance."

In that moment, my heartbeat had nearly stopped.

He was begging me to let him go.

Fifty years of marriage. I'd given up a career overseas to marry him, and in that instant, every sacrifice became a slap across my own face.

Cold sweat prickled down my spine now, in this life, shocking the last shred of longing out of me.

Corey Vance, since I gave you what you wanted, then fine. This time around, we truly owe each other nothing.

Noah Abbott was still unconscious. I stepped out of the hospital to grab some food.

A piercing roar of cheers erupted from the little restaurant next door.

"Congrats to the band on another win! And congrats to Corey for scoring our Letitia's love confession!"

I froze. My gaze drifted to the group celebrating outside the restaurant entrance.

Corey stood there holding a beer bottle. Beside him, a young woman with a high ponytail had her shoulder pressed close to his.

I recognized her instantly.

Letitia Dickerson.

"What confession? Don't make stuff up."

She ducked her head shyly, but her eyes kept sneaking glances at Corey.

"I just shared my feelings with Corey, that's all. He has a family. I'd never want to come between them."

Corey's hand paused mid-drag on his cigarette. Almost reflexively, his other hand reached out to block someone from pouring her another drink.

"Exactly. Quit talking nonsense."

A few of the others looked annoyed.

"Come on, Corey, don't be so whipped. Honestly, your wife Caroline just looks down on all of us musicians. Every time she shows up at rehearsal with that look on her face? Tch."

"For real! Those stiletto heels, those oversized sunglasses, looking us up and down like we're beneath her. She's not even trying to hide it!"

Letitia widened her doe eyes and turned to Corey.

"Corey, is that how you see it too?"

He lowered his head and took a long drag. The smoke curled around his face, making his expression impossible to read.

"Caroline is definitely career-driven, and she takes good care of Noah too."

"But when it comes to feelings... who can really say?"

Letitia caught the implication. The smile tugging at the corners of her mouth was barely containable.

A strange, bittersweet ache bloomed somewhere near my heart.

I steadied myself for a moment, then walked up to the counter and asked the owner to pack up an order of fried rice.

"Babe?"

Corey spotted me and went visibly stiff, scratching the back of his head with a guilty sort of restlessness. "The band's having a dinner tonight. I forgot to mention it. What are you doing here...?"

"Hey, sis!"

Letitia's voice rang out, bright and chipper. "We just got started. Want to join us?"

Then she tugged at Corey's sleeve and pouted.

"Honestly, Corey, how could you not tell her? Now she has to eat all by herself, poor thing."

I heard exactly what she meant. My expression didn't change.

"No need. Noah spiked a fever and he's in the hospital. I need to get back."

Corey froze. His brow furrowed on instinct.

"A fever? How does a perfectly healthy kid get a fever? How are you taking care of him, Caroline?"

I tugged the corner of my mouth into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"I had work to handle—"

"Work?!" His voice shot up. "All you ever think about is work. You can't even take care of an eight-year-old, and you call yourself a mother?"

Something in what I'd said had set him off. He jabbed a finger in my direction, brimming with self-righteous fury.

"And another thing—you couldn't have called me sooner? Do you even consider me his father? I bet that's it. You look down on me. You've always looked down on me, the guy who's 'wasting his life' playing in a band!"

He was practically shaking with indignation.

"Let me tell you something—our band is competing in the National Band Championship next month. The judges think highly of us. So don't you dare look down on me!"

I listened to his tirade in silence. Around us, the rest of the band watched with thinly veiled amusement.

When he finally ran out of steam, I spoke.

"Are you done?" My voice was level. "The reason I didn't call you was because I didn't want to interrupt Letitia confessing her feelings to you at the hotel."

Corey's expression locked in place.

"Wh—what hotel? What confession? Don't make things up! Letitia and I aren't what you think."

Letitia clutched the hem of her shirt, her face flushing scarlet.

"Sis, please don't get the wrong idea. I did ask Corey to meet up, but only to thank him for letting me into the band so I could make a living. That's all. Nothing more."

Looking at the two of them squirming, a wave of exhaustion washed over me.

"Whatever. I'm leaving."

I grabbed the takeout and headed for the hospital.

Before long, footsteps trailed behind me.

Corey had followed.

"I'll come check on Noah..."

Under the medication, Noah was still asleep. I opened the container and picked at a few bites of rice.

Corey glanced at me several times before speaking, his voice low.

"Babe, you've been working hard. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blown up like that..."

He knew perfectly well why we'd gotten married. We'd done it for Noah.

Corey had spent the first twenty years of his life in a band—never earning much, but living free. I was an investment manager at a securities firm, surrounded by money every day. If it hadn't been for that one drunken night when we crossed a line, neither of us would have given the other a second look.

Two weeks later, I showed up at his door with the ultrasound results and laid it all on the table.

Maybe it was because I looked so uncharacteristically vulnerable that day. He stared at me for a long time, then suddenly pulled me into his arms.

"Caroline, let's get married."

For a while after that, he stopped going to band practice. He came with me to every prenatal appointment, cooked meals tailored to my pregnancy cravings. The day I gave birth, he cried louder than I did, and even through the tears, he didn't forget to hold me.

From the day Noah was born until he turned three, Corey was the one doing the midnight feedings and changing diapers, present for every milestone.

Noah's very first word wasn't "mama."

It was "dada."

A man like that, falling for him was something I couldn't control. And I had my reasons.

But it turned out that when a man wanted to put on an act, he could keep it up for years.

Fine. Let him chase his dream. I'd live my own life.

"By the way," Corey rubbed his nose and lowered his voice. "We've got the National Band Championship coming up, so I'll be pretty tied up. Might not make it home some nights. Just... bear with me, okay?"

I went blank for a moment before remembering that their entry slot for the competition was something I'd begged a client to arrange, practically groveling for the favor.

With his band's actual skill level, they never would have qualified on their own.

But that entry slot? I didn't feel like giving it to them anymore.

So I nodded lightly.

"Sure. Got it."

Corey froze. Whether it was guilt or something else, he suddenly wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulling me close.

"Babe."

His voice was muffled against my hair.

"Thank you. For supporting my dream. For understanding."

In my previous life, Corey eventually found out about the investments I'd secretly funneled into his band.

Unlike what I'd expected, he was furious. He trashed the entire apartment.

"What's that supposed to mean, Caroline? You bought me a national championship with your money, is that it? I'm telling you, this is an insult!"

"Take your money and get the hell away from me! My band could've taken first place on our own talent. You were just sticking your nose where it didn't belong!"

We didn't speak for weeks after that. It took Noah playing peacemaker before the cold war finally ended.

Sometimes I genuinely had no idea what that man wanted.

I snapped back to the present and pushed him away gently.

"Alright, if there's nothing else, you should go. I need to stay with Noah."

Our voices must have been too loud, because Noah woke up anyway.

He rubbed his eyes, spotted Corey, and broke into a grin.

"Daddy!"

Corey opened his arms, his eyes brimming with warmth as he scooped the boy up.

"Did you miss Daddy? Still feeling sick? How about Daddy goes and gets you some food, hm?"

While the two of them chatted, the door swung open without warning.

"Hey, sis."

Letitia stepped inside, a smile already arranged on her face.

"I heard your little one was sick, so I picked up some light dishes for him."

Under the fluorescent lights, the red-dyed tips of her hair were impossible to miss. She was barely in her early twenties, eyes bright and sparkling.

If I was being honest with myself, she really was striking.

No wonder Corey had zeroed in on her the moment they met, even posting their photo together on social media, calling her his kindred spirit.

I said nothing. Corey took the food from her hands.

Noah studied her curiously, then blinked.

"Hey, miss, the perfume you're wearing smells exactly like Daddy's. That's so cool!"

The air in the room turned to ice. Both their expressions went stiff at the exact same time.

"Noah, what are you talking about? Daddy's cologne is a common brand. It's totally normal for someone else to wear the same one." Corey scrambled to cover.

But Noah had never been one to filter his thoughts.

"Nuh-uh. Daddy's cologne is the custom one Mommy got him when she was on a business trip overseas. It's one of a kind in the whole world."

Corey's gaze darted sideways. He covered his mouth with a cough.

"This kid... always saying the wildest things."

"Alright, Noah, let's go to the bathroom." I cut in just in time, then looked at the two of them. "He needs to rest and get some sleep soon."

The hint to leave couldn't have been more obvious.

At the doorway, Corey suddenly turned back.

"Babe."

He tugged at his hair, visibly uncomfortable.

"Letitia's outfit was too short during a performance, so I lent her my jacket. That's how she got my cologne on her. Don't overthink it."

I couldn't be bothered to guess how long it had taken him to come up with that pathetic excuse. My eyes stayed on my phone screen.