Gabriel stared at me for so long that my father finally cleared his throat.

—Camille, marriage isn’t something you decide because you had an argument with Julian.

—I know.

—Then explain yourself.

I looked at Gabriel instead.

In my previous life, I had spent an entire year married to this man without ever truly looking at him.

Now I noticed everything.

The slight tension in his shoulders.

The way his fingers rested perfectly still on his knee, except for his thumb pressing against his index finger.

The disbelief hidden beneath that calm expression.

Gabriel Blackwood had negotiated acquisitions worth billions without blinking.

Yet one sentence from me had frightened him.

—I broke things off with Julian because I finally understood that he would never choose me.

Gabriel’s eyes darkened.

—And you think I should be satisfied with being your second choice?

The question hurt because he had every right to ask it.

In my previous life, that was exactly what he had been.

Not even second.

He had been the man I married because Julian wouldn’t marry me.

The man whose calls I ignored.

The husband whose birthday I forgot.

The man who once waited outside a hospital for six hours because I had a fever, only to leave before I woke because Julian arrived first.

I swallowed.

—No.

Gabriel stood.

My father frowned.

—Mr. Blackwood—

—The discussion can continue another day.

His voice remained polite.

Cold.

I knew that tone.

Gabriel used it whenever he was hurt.

I had learned that from his diary.

He walked toward the door.

I followed him.

—Gabriel.

He stopped.

It was the first time I had ever called him by his first name before our marriage.

Slowly, he turned around.

—Have dinner with me tomorrow.

His expression changed almost imperceptibly.

—Why?

—Because you said I might regret meeting you.

I smiled.

—I’m asking for the opportunity to prove you wrong.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then:

—Seven o’clock.

And he left.

Only when the door closed did I release the breath trapped inside my chest.

My father stared at me as if I had been replaced by someone overnight.

Perhaps I had.

My phone vibrated on the table.

Twenty-three missed calls.

All from Julian.

Then a message appeared.

Camille, stop behaving ridiculously. Vivian has been crying since you left. Come back and apologize.

I almost laughed.

Even now, the first person he worried about was Vivian.

I deleted the message.

Another arrived immediately.

I’ll give you until tonight.

I blocked the new number too.

My father watched silently.

—You chased that boy for four years.

—Four years too many.

He studied me carefully.

Then he said something that froze me.

—Gabriel has also been coming here for four years.

My fingers tightened.

—What?

—Business excuses. Investments. Charity projects. Advice.

My father smiled faintly.

—I always wondered why a Blackwood heir had so much free time to drink tea with an old man like me.

My eyes burned.

Another diary entry flashed through my memory.

March 8. Mr. Hart mentioned Camille likes strawberry cake. I bought one on the way home. Then I remembered she doesn’t live with me. Ridiculous.

I turned away before my father could see my expression.

This time, Gabriel wouldn’t spend nine years loving me alone.

The next evening I arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes early.

Gabriel was already there.

Of course he was.

Black suit.

Silver watch.

A cup of untouched coffee.

When he saw me, surprise flickered across his face.

In my previous life, I had arrived forty minutes late to our first dinner after marriage because Julian called me.

Gabriel had waited.

I hadn’t apologized.

Tonight, I sat opposite him.

—I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I didn’t order.

—I like almost everything.

I knew that was a lie.

He hated celery.

Preferred seafood to steak.

Never drank anything sweeter than black coffee.

And whenever he was anxious, he ordered sparkling water.

A waiter approached.

Without thinking, I said:

—Grilled sea bass for him. No celery. Sparkling water.

Silence.

I realized my mistake too late.

Gabriel stared at me.

—How did you know?

My heart skipped.

—I asked around.

—Who?

I couldn’t answer.

Because there was only one person who had known those small details.

Gabriel himself, writing alone in a diary five years in the future.

I smiled weakly.

—Does it matter?

His gaze sharpened.

—It matters because until yesterday, Camille Hart barely knew my birthday.

I stopped breathing.

He was right.

My sudden knowledge wasn’t romantic.

It was terrifying.

I lowered my eyes.

—Then consider this my attempt to learn.

Gabriel remained silent for a moment.

Eventually, his expression softened.

Barely.

Dinner was strangely peaceful.

No Vivian.

No Julian.

No phone placed beside my plate in case someone more important called.

For the first time in years, I listened to the person sitting across from me.

Gabriel spoke little, but when he did, every sentence had weight.

He remembered the names of employees’ children.

He read history books when he couldn’t sleep.

He disliked crowded parties but attended them because his grandmother enjoyed introducing him to people.

And whenever I laughed, his eyes lingered on me before quickly looking away.

How had I never seen it?

After dinner, we stepped outside.

Rain had begun falling.

Gabriel opened his umbrella.

I moved underneath it.

Without thinking, I stepped closer.

His entire body stiffened.

—Camille.

—Hmm?

—You don’t have to force yourself.

I looked up.

He was staring straight ahead.

—If you’re trying to make Julian jealous, don’t use me.

My chest tightened.

—I’m not.

—Then why?

His voice was quieter now.

—Why suddenly me?

Before I could answer, headlights swept across the pavement.

A car stopped sharply beside us.

Julian stepped out.

Vivian sat in the passenger seat.

Of course she did.

Julian walked toward us, anger written across his face.

—So this is what you’ve been doing?

Gabriel’s expression immediately turned cold.

—Mr. Shaw.

Julian ignored him.

His eyes locked onto me.

—Get in the car.

I nearly smiled.

—No.

—Camille, enough.

He reached for my wrist.

Gabriel moved before I could.

His hand caught Julian’s arm.

Not violently.

Simply firmly enough to stop him.

—She said no.

Julian stared at him.

—This is between Camille and me.

—I don’t think Camille agrees.

Something ugly flashed through Julian’s eyes.

Then Vivian hurried out beneath a second umbrella.

—Please don’t fight because of me.

I almost admired her consistency.

Somehow, she could insert herself into every conflict while pretending she wanted nothing to do with it.

Julian pulled his arm free.

—Camille, Vivian hasn’t eaten since yesterday because of what you said.

I blinked.

—Then take her to dinner.

—You owe her an apology.

—I owe her nothing.

His face hardened.

—You’ve changed.

Those words sounded almost accusatory.

I looked directly at him.

—Yes.

I died once because I didn’t change soon enough.

I couldn’t say that aloud.

So I only added:

—Get used to it.

I turned toward Gabriel.

—Can you take me home?

For the first time that night, something warm appeared in his eyes.

—Of course.

We walked away.

Julian didn’t follow.

But just before I entered Gabriel’s car, Vivian called my name.

I turned.

Her face had gone pale.

She was staring at Gabriel.

Not at me.

At Gabriel.

Then she said:

—Mr. Blackwood… haven’t we met before?

Gabriel’s hand froze on the car door.

The warmth disappeared from his expression instantly.

And for the first time since returning to the past, I saw genuine fear in his eyes.

Vivian took another step forward.

—I remember now.

She looked directly at me.

—Camille, there’s something about Gabriel Blackwood that you need to know before you even think about marrying him.