My art studio caught fire. I risked my life to pull my boyfriend, Vincent Parcelle, out of the flames.

Vincent wanted to rush back inside to save his first love, Tammy Reese, who was trapped inside. But I stopped him. The fire destroyed her face and left her legs amputated.

Unable to face her disfigurement and disability, Tammy took her own life by overdosing on pills.

Afterward, Vincent and I moved forward and got married.

On our wedding night, he slit my throat without thinking twice.

"If it weren't for you, Tammy wouldn't be dead. Go to hell and pay for your sins!"

Only after dying did I realize—Vincent had hated me to the core ever since the fire.

For some reason, I was reborn. Grateful that the heavens had given me another chance at life, I ran without looking back this time.

To hell with love. I was determined to survive.

I pressed down on my bleeding throat, unable to utter a sound.

Vincent stood over me, grinning like a demon. His eyes were filled with hatred as he pinned me to the ground.

I writhed helplessly. I opened my mouth, desperate to ask him why.

But he only screamed, his voice manic and raw:

"Peggy! It's all your fault! You killed Tammy! You should go to hell and pay for your sins!"

I couldn't believe it. The man I had loved so deeply had been plotting my death all along.

And all because I had stopped him from rushing into the flames to play the hero.

Fine. So be it.

It was my fault for being too blind, too foolish.

…

"Call 911! Run for your lives!"

The chaotic crowd nearly knocked me down as they fled.

I stumbled, and the world blurred into smoke and heat.

God, have mercy. I was alive again.

This time, I wouldn't play the saint.

'Vincent, if saving your precious Tammy means so much, then go right ahead. I won't stop you. Not this time,' I thought bitterly.

Through the smoke, I spotted Vincent, panic written all over his face.

He coughed uncontrollably, hesitating before the roaring flames, too scared to move forward.

The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up. Grabbing my hand, he pleaded breathlessly, "Peggy! Thank goodness you're here! Go save Tammy—she's still inside!"

Tammy—the woman who caused my death in my past life.

Vincent had chased after her for ten years, yet she was always out of his reach.

Even after we started dating, he'd drop everything and rush to her side at a single phone call.

I had warned them time and time again to set boundaries, but Tammy would always tearfully play the victim, quietly stirring up fights between us.

More than once, she had sneered at me, saying I could have Vincent's body but never his heart.

And now, it was her idea to join my art studio, only to end up trapped in a fire.

I shook off Vincent's grip and brushed the ash from my sleeves.

"Why should I go?"

A flicker of anger crossed his face. "Peggy, how can you be so cold? The fire's spreading! She's in danger!"

I didn't bother to hold back my wrath. Shoving him aside, I snapped, "You're right. I'm cold and selfish, so get out of my way. I'm saving myself."

No more letting him guilt-trip me.

I turned and bolted, disappearing into the fleeing crowd.

"It's your chance to prove your love!" I couldn't resist yelling back as I ran.

Vincent hesitated. Then, gritting his teeth, he charged straight into the fire.

Most of us made it out alive, and the fire trucks arrived shortly after.

Vincent's mother, Madeline also showed up, her expression fierce and worried.

Remembering how she tormented me in my past life, I struck first, refusing to give her an opening. "Madeline! It's all my fault! I couldn't stop another woman from latching herself on Vincent!"

I threw myself at her, tears streaming down my face before she could even speak.

"What do you mean? Where's Vincent? Why hasn't he come out yet?" She grabbed my hands, her voice trembling with fear.

Wiping my tears, I forced myself to sound pitiful.

"Madeline, I tried to pull him out as soon as the fire started. But his first love, Tammy, was still inside. Vincent… he ran back in to save her!"

My words left Madeline pale with shock.

She slapped her thigh in desperation. "That manipulative witch! Oh, my poor, foolish son!"

Seeing the firefighters prepare for the rescue, Madeline grabbed one of their arms and pleaded, "Please, I beg you, save my son! I've raised him alone, and it's been anything but easy."

The firefighter brushed her off with a few perfunctory words and quickly turned back to the fire.

Madeline paced anxiously, muttering curses under her breath. Soon, the firefighters emerged, carrying out two figures blackened by smoke.

"Vincent! What's happened to you?" Madeline rushed forward.

Vincent lay there, covered in soot and burns, unconscious and barely breathing. By contrast, Tammy, who had been rescued alongside him, looked relatively unscathed—dirty but with only a few scrapes on her arms.

"Call an ambulance!"

"How touching. He must have shielded her with his body. No wonder he's so badly hurt."

"His legs might not make it. What a shame, he's still so young."

Hearing the firefighters' murmurs, Madeline staggered and fainted on the spot.

The ambulance whisked all three to the hospital.

Tammy and Madeline were fine. But Vincent's injuries were severe—both legs required amputation, and his face was disfigured by burns.

"Vincent, why are we cursed with such misfortune?" Madeline wailed in the hospital room.

"Mom, where's Tammy?" Vincent's weak voice interrupted her cries.

Just hearing that name reignited his mother's fury. "How dare you bring her up? If it weren't for her, would you be like this?"

As if summoned, Tammy entered the room.

"Vincent..." Her voice was timid.

"You shameless witch!" Madeline lunged, grabbing Tammy's hair and dragging her to the hospital bed. "Look at what you've done to my son! You've got to take responsibility for this!"

Tammy froze, the theatrics in her expression vanishing in panic.

"Are you trying to guilt-trip me?" she snapped, backing away.

"Who else should take responsibility? You sabotaged his relationships from the start! And now Vincent is crippled because of you!" Madeline howled in despair.

"There's no way I'll be with a cripple!" Tammy's rejection was immediate, leaving Vincent visibly crushed.

"You witch! If you won't take responsibility, I won't let this go!" Madeline yanked at her hair, pulling Tammy into a screaming, flailing fight.

I leaned against the doorway, watching their chaos unfold with quiet amusement, already planning the next act in my little show.

…

A crowd of reporters burst into the hospital room, cameras flashing.

"Hello, are you the hero who saved your girlfriend from today's fire?"

"Sir, do you regret your actions?"

"What's next for your relationship?"

Their rapid questions left everyone frozen in awkward silence.

Tammy and Madeline raised their hands defensively, caught off guard.

One reporter zeroed in on Tammy. "It looks like you were arguing. Is it true you refuse to care for the man who risked his life for you?"

Tammy's face went blank.

If she repeated her earlier words, the internet's outrage would destroy her life. Forced by the mounting pressure, she managed to force a smile.

"Of course not. Vincent risked his life for me. I'll always be by his side," Tammy declared.

"Tammy, do you really mean it?" Vincent mumbled weakly from his hospital bed.

"Of course. Don't worry, I'll stay with you," Tammy replied, holding his uninjured hand. Her smile looked more pained than comforting.

The reporters, touched by the rare display of devotion, snapped endless photos. The flashing lights blurred Tammy's vision. Turning to look at Vincent, she found herself overwhelmed by nausea when she looked directly at Vincent's burned face. She found it digusting.

Their performance of affection left me unable to stand idly by.

"Vincent, what are you two doing?" I asked, standing at the door, holding a bouquet with trembling hands.

The reporters smelled drama and turned their microphones toward me.

"Peggy, why are you here?" Vincent asked, clearly flustered.

I wiped away tears and pointed at them. "When we were dating, you were already tangled up with her. I dragged you out of that fire, and you risked yourself to save her instead. Now look at you, ruined but satisfied, right? Vincent, we're over!"

I stormed out, leaving the room in stunned silence. The narrative flipped—the devoted hero hadn't saved his girlfriend but someone else.

…

The scandal exploded, and their reputations crumbled overnight.

"Douchebag and homewrecker—serves them right!" the public roared.

Under pressure from the media and Vincent's domineering mother, Tammy had no choice but to care for him.

Caring for burn victims was grueling. Tammy, inexperienced and disgusted, endured changing his bandages and draining pus, all while dodging Madeline's threats.

"Try leaving, and I'll ruin you! My son's ruined, so I have nothing to lose!" Madeline shouted.

For two months, Tammy was trapped, enduring Vincent's gratitude and tears as if her suffering justified his survival.

…

Vincent finally left the hospital, but his mother refused to release Tammy.

"You'll care for him forever and give him children," she demanded.

Tammy, defeated, was dragged to their home. With no job, Vincent spent his days idling.

His mother depended on him financially before his accident. Now, Tammy worked tirelessly to cover the medical costs and their expenses.

Exhausted and bitter, she suffered Vincent's paranoia and tantrums, his jealousy exploding whenever she returned home late.

She longed to escape, but they monitored her closely.

Sometimes, passing by their neighborhood, I saw her pushing Vincent's wheelchair while Madeline trailed behind, always watching.

Of course, I kept watching too—until I discovered Tammy's secret.