Caleb's breath hit my face, thick with alcohol. "Aurora, how far are you going to push Layla before you're satisfied?"

His fingers dug into my wrist so hard that it felt like he could snap the bone. A sharp, drilling pain shot up my arm, and the blood drained from my face.

In my previous life, Layla tried to end her life because Caleb married me. A month after our wedding, she slit her wrists and died from massive blood loss.

Caleb couldn't find a matching blood type in time, so he could only watch as her life slipped away.

From then on, he hated me. He held on to that hatred until he died, and he never forgave me.

But in this life, I hadn't even married him yet. So why had Layla still chosen to hurt herself?

The system's voice echoed in my mind. "You only have one wish card left. Are you sure you want to use it on Caleb and not keep it for yourself?"

I remembered what would happen in 12 years and nodded without hesitation. It was the only way to end everything between us.

I had still been wondering how I was supposed to fulfill his third wish. Now, the opportunity had walked right up to me.

I met his furious eyes. "So, you're here to ask me to give blood to save her, aren't you?"

Caleb froze, clearly not expecting me to say it out loud. His expression darkened. "You think I wouldn't dare? You pushed Layla into slitting her wrists! You should be the one to atone!"

He tightened his grip and dragged me straight to the hospital, where Layla was being treated.

Layla lay on the bed, barely conscious, her face as white as the pillowcase under her head.

The doctor checked the test results and looked relieved. "Ms. Wynne's blood type is a match. But to stabilize Ms. Shaw, we'll need about two units of blood."

"No!" Caleb's expression instantly shifted, his brows knitting. "Taking that much blood is like taking half her life! She can't endure that! Isn't there anything else you can use?"

The doctor hesitated, his expression turning grave. "We don't have any Rh-negative blood in stock right now. If you refuse to let us use Ms. Wynne's blood, you need to be prepared for the worst. Drawing the blood won't endanger Ms. Wynne, but Ms. Shaw may not hold on much longer."

Caleb pressed his lips into a thin line, his gaze fixed on Layla's pale face.

I could see how much he hurt just looking at her, so I turned to the doctor. "I'm willing to help her. Go ahead and take it."

The doctor glanced at Caleb for confirmation. "But this will cause significant damage to your body."

I smiled. "It's alright. I'll recover. Saving her is what matters."

Caleb stared at me for a long moment before he finally frowned. "Fine. I'll owe you for this. I'll make it up to you."

He left the room, and the doctor began to draw my blood.

The needle pierced my skin, sinking in deeper. The pain sharpened with each push.

As the blood flowed out of me, memories I had tried to bury floated to the surface.

When I was ten and had just lost my parents, the rich kids at school surrounded me and laughed.

"You don't even have parents. How can an orphan like you sit in the same classroom as us?"

Caleb had stood up for me that day. He shoved the ringleader against the wall, then turned and rested a hand on my trembling head. "Don't be scared. I'm here."

That held me together through my teenage years.

Even later, when his family arranged his engagement to me and Layla stood between us, he was still the one who stepped in front of me whenever danger appeared.

Until that day, when a knife came swinging toward me on the roadside, and Caleb stepped in front of me to shield me.

As he lay dying, he looked at me and forced out the cruelest words I'd ever heard. "Aurora, I would've been better off if I'd never met you..."

I snapped out of the memory and steadied myself against the dizziness, dragging myself up from the chair.

Just then, the door opened, and Caleb walked in with a thermal container. The smell of beetroot soup drifted out, and the warmth of it made my eyes sting.

It was the same beetroot soup I used to pester Caleb's housekeeper to make for me when I was a child.

"Does it still hurt?" Caleb asked. He blew on the spoon until the steam thinned, then held it to my lips. "I was out of line yesterday. Don't take it to heart. But Layla really didn't do anything wrong. Stop going after her."

My fingers trembled slightly as I took the bowl from him.

In my previous life, I would have burst into tears, screaming that Layla had framed me and insisting the engagement be called off at once.

But now, I just shook my head. "I won't do it again."

Caleb let out a breath of relief, a rare softness flickering in his eyes. "Once you're discharged, we can travel overseas. You always said you wanted to—"

"No," I cut in, gently pushing the bowl back toward him. "I chose to help Layla. You don't need to make it up to me."

His hand trembled around the spoon, the injury he got saving me from that cliff fall acting up again.

I looked at his pale knuckles, my throat tightening. "You hurt your hand because of me. Do you regret it?"

"If it had been anyone else, I would've done the same," he said quietly. He dropped his gaze and stirred the soup. The thin steam rising from the bowl blurred his expression.

So, there really was nothing special about me. Tears prickled hot behind my eyes.

"I grew up with no parents, always longing for a home of my own. That's why I forced you into marrying me. I must have been such a burden. I know I made your life harder," I said.

But from that day onward, it would all end. He wouldn't have to give up the woman he loved for my sake or be pushed into a marriage he didn't want.

Those 12 years of torment wouldn't have happened, and he wouldn't have died at 31 because of me.

In this lifetime, he would finally get to live a happy life.

I thought I saw Caleb tense, looking suddenly uneasy. He was about to say something when a nurse rushed in.

"Mr. Vale, Ms. Shaw is awake! She keeps asking for you!"

Caleb shot to his feet, the hem of his suit jacket brushing the edge of my bed.

I looked at his tall, straight back and couldn't help letting out a small laugh. "Caleb."

He turned, and I pulled the wedding invitation from under my pillow and nudged it toward him.

"I hope you and Layla are happy," I said softly. "This time, I really won't cling to you."

Caleb glanced at the wedding invitation, clearly anxious to leave. "Wait for me to come back."

"Caleb," I called again, trying my best to give him a bright smile. "I'm sorry. And I hope everything goes smoothly for you from now on. I hope you live a long, peaceful life."

He looked genuinely startled, even a little uneasy. "Why are you talking like that? I'm just going to check on Layla. I'll be back soon. Just stay here and wait for me. When I get back, there's something I want to tell you."

Then, he turned and walked out.

It was getting close to 9:00 am. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood.

The doctor came by to check on me. After he finished, I gave him a grateful smile.

"Thank you. Could you please tell Caleb that I've gone abroad? Ask him to take care of himself and not worry about me."

...

After checking on Layla, Caleb hurried back to my room.

But when he pushed open the door, he found the bed empty. His face went tight as he turned to the nurse at the station.

"Where's Ms. Wynne? She's still recovering. Where did she go?"

Before the nurse could answer, his assistant, Owen Price, rushed in and urgently said, "Mr. Vale, something's happened! Ten minutes ago, Ms. Wynne was in a car accident. She lost a lot of blood, and the hospital's blood bank was empty. They tried to save her, but she still didn't make it!"