My Deathbed Wish: His True Love

On my deathbed, my husband of ten years held my hand. He didn't pray for my soul, but for a next life where he could finally be with his true love, Bianca, free from me.

A single tear fell as I died. And then, I woke up.

I was twenty-five again, back on the day I found him after he' d been missing for five years with amnesia. Last time, I forced his memories to return. It worked, but it drove Bianca to suicide, and he spent the rest of our lives resenting me for it. His care for me as I slowly died from ALS was his penance, not his love.

My love had been his cage.

So this time, when his father called to say he was found, I didn' t rush to the hospital. I walked into his parents' office, slid my terminal ALS diagnosis across the table, and broke our engagement.

"He has a new life," I said. "I won't be his burden."

This time, I would grant his wish.

Chapter 1

Grace's POV:

Jack Day and I were supposed to have the perfect life, but we spent a lifetime steeped in resentment. He resented me for forcing his memories to return after an accident, an act he believed drove his new love, Bianca, to suicide. I resented him for shattering his promise of forever the moment he lost his memory. After ten years of a marriage as cold as a tomb, I was diagnosed with ALS. For seven years, he cared for me with a meticulousness born of guilt, not love. On my deathbed, he held my hand, his voice a ghost of the one I once loved, and whispered his final wish. He prayed for a next life, one where he and Bianca could finally be together, free from me. A single tear escaped my eye as I drew my last breath. My love had been his cage.

And then, I woke up.

The suffocating smell of antiseptic, the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor. The world swam back into focus. I was in a hospital room, sunlight streaming through the window, warming my face.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table. A message from Edwardo Day, Jack' s father.

"Grace, we found him. He' s in a small town hospital three hundred miles north. He' s safe."

My breath hitched. This was the day. The day I found Jack, five years after he' d gone missing and been presumed dead. The day my first life' s tragedy truly began.

Last time, I had sobbed with relief, my hands shaking so badly I could barely type my reply. I had rushed to that hospital, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs, ready to bring my love home.

This time, a chilling calm settled over me.

The final image from my previous life was seared into my mind: Jack' s face, etched with a mixture of grief and relief as I died, finally freeing