The Day I Chose Differently

A sharp gasp. Cold air filled my lungs as my eyes snapped open. I was in the familiar leather armchair of the Vanderbilt library, sunlight streaming in. June 10th. The day I was to choose my bride.

Just moments ago, or so it felt, I was pushed from a penthouse balcony.

The rain slicked my face; Seraphina' s sneering expression, Leo' s hands, then her final, venomous whisper: "You shouldn't have chosen me, Ethan. You were always too weak."

Then, darkness swallowed me whole.

I remembered every manipulated moment-the fake accidents, the endless lies, the plundered fortune, my shattered heart.

I had chosen her, Seraphina Ashworth, only to be left a hollow shell, betrayed by the woman I loved and her conniving lover.

To die such a humiliating, lonely death.

Why was I back?

Was this some cruel trick of fate, an unfathomably twisted joke from the universe?

Could I really be reliving the very day my misery began, the day I picked the woman who would destroy me?

The bitterness was overwhelming, the injustice absolute.

But my hands, strong and steady now, confirmed it.

I was reborn.

And this time, I wouldn't be weak.

I wouldn't be a fool.

I would choose differently, decisively, and ensure my betrayers paid every last penny.