Chapter 4: Second Chance, Same Mistakes

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night Derek was drugged at that gala.

At that moment, I was straddling Derek’s waist, my dress half undone, bare shoulders exposed. Derek’s hands—those hands that wrote poetry and strummed guitar—gripped my waist, fingers long and veins bulging. The way he held me flickered between tight and loose, like he couldn’t decide whether to hold on or let go. The room spun with music and laughter drifting up from the ballroom below.

I froze, then came to my senses and pushed him away.

“We can’t do this.”

I rolled off the bed, straightened my dress, and wrapped my arms around myself. The air was thick with cologne and panic. My world felt upended and stitched back together wrong.

Derek leaned against the bed, face flushed, hair mussed, shirt askew. All his cold composure stripped away, he looked wild—almost heartbreakingly handsome. His eyes were hazy as he gazed at me, voice rough:

“You and I are husband and wife. Why not?”

My heart trembled. I understood—Derek must have been given a second chance too. The realization hit me like a thunderclap on an August night.

But I’d already promised myself: if given another life, I’d stay far away from Derek.

I looked up at him, tears brimming.

“Derek, we’re not married, not even engaged. How can we call ourselves husband and wife? I know you’ve always looked down on me. Why humiliate me like this?”

The confusion in Derek’s eyes cleared. He glanced around the room, met my gaze, and frowned.

“Sorry—”

I couldn’t bear another word. I cut him off, voice shaking.

“Don’t worry, Derek, I’ll never bother you again.”

I turned and ran, heels clattering on marble floors, breath catching in the cool spring air.

I ran all the way to the lakeside. Using the glassy water as a mirror, I fixed my hair and makeup as if nothing had happened, then slipped back into the gala. The moon’s reflection shimmered on the lake, and I let the cold bite until I could finally breathe again.

Aunt Lisa took my hand, her fingers warm on my cold skin.

“You were gone so long. Your hand is freezing—aren’t you cold?”

I gave her a sweet smile.

“Aunt, I’m not cold. I’m actually really happy.”

Aunt Lisa’s eyes sparkled with relief as she squeezed my hand like she’d never let go.