I walked through our front door, my heart pounding with anticipation. The hospital results confirmed it—I was pregnant again. A fresh wave of hope filled me, momentarily washing away the agony of the past. This time, please… let my baby live.

But as I stepped inside, an eerie feeling settled in my chest. From our bedroom, hushed laughter drifted toward me, intimate and careless. My breath hitched. The door was slightly ajar. I moved closer, heart hammering.

Inside, tangled in the sheets, was my husband, Jake. And with him—Clarissa, his childhood friend. Their bodies intertwined, their lips mere inches apart. I opened my mouth, but no words came. Then I heard them laughing. Whispering. Mocking.

"I can't believe she never stops," Clarissa giggled, running her fingers down Jake’s chest. "Lindsay just keeps getting pregnant, like a guinea pig."

Jake smirked. "Which works for you, doesn’t it? Always a fresh supply for your experiments."

My stomach lurched. Experiments? A cold shiver ran down my spine. My hand instinctively cradled my abdomen. My baby… our baby.

Clarissa sighed, her voice dripping with amusement. "It’s honestly pathetic. She never even questions it—just accepts it. Ten dead babies, and she still believes she’s just unlucky."

Ten. The world tilted beneath me. Ten stillborn children. My precious babies—gone. Just for her.

Jake shrugged as if it meant nothing. "She’s too desperate for a child to see the truth. She didn’t even realize that the energy drinks I gave her caused the miscarriages. She’s so gullible. I’ll make sure she never finds out."

A sharp pain tore through my chest. My breath came in short, ragged gasps. Jake… the man I loved… had been killing our children all along? Then…

"But isn't she your wife?" Clarissa teased, pouting.

Jake pinched her cheek affectionately. Yes. I was his legal wife. So why is she…

"She’s not even my wife," Jake scoffed, his voice laced with disdain. I froze. "Did you really think I legally married her? Between you and her, Clarissa, you’re my real wife. You’re the only one I brought to the altar."

A deafening silence filled the room. Something inside me shattered. With trembling hands, I pushed the door open. The sound made them jerk upright. Their shock flickered for only a moment before amusement took its place.

"Lindsay," Jake drawled, slipping out of bed as if nothing happened. "Didn’t hear you come in."

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. "How could you?" My voice was barely a whisper. "You… you murdered them."

Jake sighed, rolling his eyes. "Our? I never considered them mine to begin with."

Clarissa scoffed. "Come on, Lindsay. Don’t act surprised. Did you really think you were special to Jake’s heart?"

Fury ignited inside me. I lunged, but before I could reach them, Jake shoved me hard. Pain exploded through me as I stumbled backward. My foot caught the edge of the coffee table. Glass shattered. I crashed to the floor.

A sharp, searing pain erupted in my abdomen. My vision blurred.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Clarissa shrieked.

“Damn it!”Jake cursed under his breath.

I gasped, struggling to breathe. My fingers trembled as I touched my stomach. My baby… my baby…

“No… I don’t want to die yet. I wish to have a second chance to correct my mistake… and get revenge on the children I lost,” I whispered desperately but darkness swallowed me whole.

---

When I opened my eyes again, the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room greeted me. I gasped, hands flying to my stomach. Pain throbbed there, deep, familiar. The same pain I had felt when—

The door creaked open. A nurse stepped inside, her expression gentle, but heavy with sorrow.

"Mrs. Lawson, I’m so sorry," she said softly. "You’ve had another miscarriage. It’s your fifth."

A chilling silence filled my mind. Fifth? That was impossible. I had lost eleven children. This should have been my eleventh miscarriage. Unless—

My breath hitched. My heart pounded violently in my chest. Did I… go back in time?

I stared at the nurse, my mind racing. Five years into my marriage with Jake—that was when I lost my fifth baby. If this was my fifth miscarriage… then… I had been given a second chance.

The door burst open. It was Jake. His hair was disheveled, his eyes tired, his shirt wrinkled. He looked devastated. His perfect performance.

"Lindsay," he murmured, rushing to my side. "Are you okay?" His fingers brushed my cheek, the same touch that had once comforted me. Now, it made my skin crawl.

I stiffened, my body cold, but inside, I burned.

Jake’s eyes darkened with grief. "I’m so sorry, baby. I know how much you wanted this child. I should have protected you more…"

This child. Like the others. Like the ten he had murdered. His acting is flawless. Well, given the experience, he had plenty of it. I clenched the hospital sheets. My fingers trembled, not with sorrow, but with fury.

I forced my lips into a weak, trembling smile. "I… I just don’t understand," I whispered. "Why does this keep happening?"

Jake sighed, feigning sadness. "It’s fate, sweetheart. Maybe we’re just not meant to be parents for now."

Lies. Lies. Lies.

I bit my lip, nodding as if I believed him. But in my heart, I made a vow. Jake was a murderer. A monster. A threat. And this time, I would not be blind. This time, I would escape. This time, I would make him pay.

The moment Jake left my hospital room, I knew exactly where he was going. He said something before he left the room.

"I need to head back to work, sweetheart," he had said, kissing my forehead like the devoted husband he pretended to be. But I knew better. He wasn’t going back to the office. He was going straight to Clarissa to inform her about the baby. That my baby is already gone.

My fingers curled into the hospital sheets, my heart a tangled mess of sorrow and fury. My baby. My innocent child. I would not let them turn this one into another specimen, another cruel experiment.

I asked the nurse to call for the doctor. Summoning the doctor, I forced a weak, teary-eyed smile. "I don’t want to see my baby in a pitiful state. I want my baby cremated immediately."

The doctor hesitated, his expression careful. "Your husband asked for the baby to be preserved. He wanted time to decide—"

"I don’t care what he wants," I interrupted, my voice quiet but firm. "This is my child. I want them at peace, I want them to be free and be reborn as a healthy baby even if it’s not me."

The doctor’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, my hands trembling. "Yes. Please… don’t let him take my baby away from me."

After a long pause, maybe she felt my desire, the doctor finally relented. "It will be done within the hour. You will receive the ashes soon."

Relief washed over me. I had won. This time, I wouldn’t let Jake and Clarissa have their way. By the time Jake returned hours later, I was already clutching the small urn in my hands.

"Lindsay," he murmured, his voice dripping with fake tenderness. He sat beside me, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "You should rest. I’ll take care of everything—including our baby."

I held the urn tighter. "It’s already done."

His expression darkened slightly. "What do you mean?"

I forced a wobbly, grief-stricken smile. "I had the baby cremated immediately. I couldn’t bear the thought of them being trapped in a cold room."

A flicker of shock crossed his face, quickly replaced by anger. "Why would you do that without telling me?"

I tilted my head, feigning innocence. "Why does it matter? I just want her to have peace. Why are you getting angry?"

Jake clenched his jaw in frustration and sighed in defeat. "I just… wanted to mourn."

Mourn? I almost laughed. Jake had never mourned our children. Not even once. That had been my burden alone. He would say it will be alright and they will try it again. It’s sickening.

"It’s done, Jake," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "Let’s not talk about it anymore."

He sighed, his frustration barely concealed. Then, as if switching masks, he smiled. "Get ready. We’re going out tonight."

I blinked. "Where?"

"Clarissa’s mother’s birthday party."

The words sent a shiver of bitter memories through me. I knew exactly what would happen at that party. The venue was lavish, filled with laughter and expensive perfume. And just as I had expected, I became the evening’s entertainment—for all the wrong reasons.

Jake’s mother, Eleanor Lawson, wasted no time in making her snide remarks.

"Lindsay, dear, you look so pale. Are you still playing pretend with that ‘weak constitution’ of yours?" she sneered, taking a delicate sip of wine. She knew about me as Jake’s secretary.

I smiled politely. "It must be my diet, Mrs. Lawson. Also, I'm still recovering from the operation."

Her expression soured. Before she could retort, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Mrs. Lawson, that’s enough."

Harry Clinton. Jake’s closest friend, yet the only one who had ever defended me. He stood beside me, his sharp blue eyes cool with disapproval.

"Lindsay just lost her child. Maybe some compassion would suit you better."

Eleanor huffed, clearly displeased. "You always did have a soft spot for her, Harry. It’s almost embarrassing. A woman who keeps on having babies despite not being married? Do you not feel anything, like disgust?"

“No, I wouldn’t feel anything but maybe you should try talking to your son about those ‘babies’ you’ve been talking about,” Harry coldly said and take a glance at me.

Normally, I would have ignored him. I used to push Harry away, snapping at him whenever he tried to stand up for me. But tonight, I simply looked at him and whispered, "Thank you."

Harry’s brows lifted slightly, as if startled by my gratitude. I turned away, no longer interested in playing the perfect, submissive wife.

I excused myself and went to the balcony of the place. The balcony was quiet, the cool night air a welcome relief. I leaned against the railing, staring at the dark sky.

I felt someone come to me. "You should leave him." It’s Harry.

I exhaled slowly. "And where should I go?"

"Anywhere," he said simply. "Anywhere that isn’t here."

I turned to face him. His gaze was steady, filled with something I didn’t recognize.

"You don’t deserve this life, Lindsay." His voice was quiet, but firm. "You’re not a prisoner. You can walk away."

I let out a soft, bitter laugh. "You make it sound so easy."

"It is easy," he murmured. "If you want it badly enough."

His words settled deep inside me. Did I want it badly enough? And For the first time in seven years, I realized—Yes. I did.

I moved around the kitchen like I always did, preparing Jake’s breakfast as if nothing had changed. As if my world hadn’t crumbled days ago. As if I didn’t know the truth.

Jake walked in, adjusting his tie, looking like the perfect husband. He sat down at the dining table, sipping the coffee I made for him.

"I have a business trip today and will be away for a few days," he said casually, picking up a piece of toast.

I nodded, pretending not to care. I never asked where he was going anymore because I thought he’s just at work as always but I already knew. He was going to see Clarissa. Those ‘Business trips’ are just a front.

He had been feeding me lies for years, and I had swallowed every single one of them. But not anymore.

Jake’s mother, Eleanor, had always made it clear that she wanted Clarissa as her daughter-in-law in every party that I attended and pretended to be Jake’s secretary. I had known for a long time, but I hadn’t expected just how deep the betrayal ran.

Jake and Clarissa had already married behind my back.

I clenched the knife in my hand for a second before forcing myself to set it down gently. It all made sense now why Eleanor had suddenly become so affectionate toward Clarissa one time, why Jake always had an excuse to leave, why he never once let me meet his business partners.

Because I wasn’t his wife. Not even once in his eyes. As Jake finished his breakfast and left, I made a decision. I would follow him.

I trailed his car carefully, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. I had prepared myself for what I might find. But nothing could have prepared me for the reality.

The venue was grand, decorated with golden chandeliers and fresh white roses. The kind of place people rented for life-changing celebrations.

And there he was. Jake. Standing next to Clarissa, dressed in an expensive suit, his arm wrapped around her waist.

The banner above them read:

"Congratulations on Your Engagement, Jake & Clarissa!"

For a moment, my mind went blank.

I had thought I hated him enough not to feel anything anymore. But when I saw the way he smiled at her—the way his happiness looked effortless, natural, something inside me cracked.

Pain. Deep, raw, suffocating.

I had loved him. Despite everything, I had loved him. And now, I stood here, watching him celebrate his future with another woman while I had wasted years being his fool.

Anger surged through me, thick and consuming. They had made a fool out of me. Over and over again. I turned to leave, but someone stepped in my way.

Harry Clinton, again. His face was unreadable as he looked at me. Then, he sighed. "It seems that you already know about your husband and Clarrisa."

I forced a bitter smile. "I had to see it for myself to make sure. So that I won’t regret or think of giving him a second chance." I snorted. “Why would I need to give him a chance again, Jake and I were not even married to begin with.

Harry shook his head. "I told him to tell you the truth. To stop playing this sick game. But he refused. He wanted to keep you in the dark, to keep making a fool of you."

A sharp pang of humiliation twisted in my chest. "And you knew all along?"

He didn’t flinch. "Yes. But I thought he’d eventually do the right thing. He didn’t. But even if I told you, you won’t believe me anyway."

He exhaled, his expression shifting into something colder. "But my friendship with him is now long gone. I won’t support him anymore and whatever friendship we had ends today."

His words struck something deep inside me. Jake had lost someone loyal to him because of his cruelty. Good.

I thought back to the phone call at this time, 3 years before I died and regressed, Harry had called me and warned me to leave Jake. I ignored him, told him to stop bothering me. I had clung to the illusion of love, refusing to see the truth.

But not anymore.

"I’m leaving him soon," I said, my voice steady. For the first time, the words didn’t feel impossible. They felt right.

Harry studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Good. You deserve better, Lindsay." After a few seconds of silence, he hesitated before continuing. "I have an offer for you."

I frowned. "An offer?"

"A job," he clarified. "I need a nanny for my son." A son. Does Harry Clinton have a son? I never knew he had a son, not even before I died.

I blinked at him, caught off guard. "You have a son and you want me to be your babysitter?"

"I want to help you," he said simply. "You’ll need a job when you leave Jake. You’ll need a fresh start. I can give you that. I can give you more."

I stared at him, my emotions a tangled mess. A fresh start. A way out. I had been trapped in Jake’s web for years, drowning in my own pain.

But maybe, just maybe, this was my chance to finally escape. I took a deep breath. Is this it? Is this the escape I needed?

“But let me correct you, not only as a babysitter, but also his mother and my wife. I’ll provide you the things that Jake didn’t offer you. Even if revenge, I will offer it to you,”