The Secrets in Their Hearts

My mother was asking me and my sister to choose the man we wanted to marry. My sister, surprisingly, did not choose the gloomy STEM student she spent four years pursuing. Instead, she went for the rich but infamous playboy.

Shock colored my mother's face. "I know he's rich, Joan, but what if you get all known and unknown STDs? I thought you loved Gil. Are you sure you're making the right choice?"

That did not sway my sister's mind. That alone told me what I had been suspecting all along. Like me, my sister was reincarnated.

In our previous lives, she happily married Gilbert Terrason, but he left her on read for ten long years. His cold treatment drove her a little gaga.

That playboy, however, stopped his philandering lifestyle for me and loved me like his life depended on it. He gave me all his riches, and we became the model couple everyone wouldn't stop talking about.

Then, it happened during the ball. On my tenth wedding anniversary, my sister, consumed by rage, burned us into cinders.

Here we were, on our second chance in life. This time, I took Gilbert's hand. "No takebacks, Joan. Don't try to do a third take."

My sister snickered. "As to you. This time, all the love in the world is coming to me."

Ah, yes, love. Joan still did not get it. Love was the most unreliable element in any marriage.

Another Choice

Our mother was still trying to talk my sister, Joan Wood, out of her choice. "Gilbert's rich too. I know he doesn't take any money from his family, but he's their heir, so sooner or later…"

Joan cut her off impatiently, "Enough. I spent four years on him, but he wouldn't even give me a moment of his time. What makes you think marrying him would be a happy ending for me? Just relax, Mom. I mean, I'm hot. Jonathan's going to be head over heels for me."

I watched Joan's overflowing self-confidence with amusement. In our previous lives, I was engaged to Jonathan Pearson. Our first meeting happened in a nightclub. He gave me a call and told me to bring him a box of rubbers.

When I walked into his parlor, he was accompanied by five alluring women with bodies that could redefine impossible body standards.

With a grin on his face, Jonathan tossed 100 dollars at my face. "First lesson of being my wife. You have to be smart."

Jonathan had seen more than his fair share of beauty. Beauty was worthless for him.

Yet Joan insisted on her choice, and my mother spoiled her rotten all the time, so she went along.

…

The next day, I called Gilbert. "Let's meet."

"I don't see the necessity in that," he answered, his reply devoid of warmth.

There was something I had to clear up with this guy before our marriage. I said, "I have news about Gillian Terrason. If that interests you, meet me at