The next morning, Ethan Lu officially asked my parents for Sophie’s hand.

My mother cried with happiness.

My father immediately accepted.

Nobody asked what I thought.

Perfect.

While everyone discussed wedding dates, I quietly walked to the county office and submitted an application for a teaching position in another province.

In my first life, I had rejected that opportunity.

Because my parents said:

—If Sophie marries Ethan, you must accompany us to the border district.

Back then, I obeyed.

This time, I signed my name without hesitation.

Three days later, my acceptance letter arrived.

I hid it inside my suitcase.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Sophie’s wedding preparations moved quickly.

Ethan treated her exactly as I remembered wishing he had treated me.

He brought her medicine when she caught a cold.

He repaired the broken window in her room.

He even traveled several hours to find the fabric she wanted for her wedding dress.

Watching them, I felt strangely calm.

Perhaps this truly was the life Ethan wanted.

Then he began watching me.

At first, only occasionally.

At dinner.

Across the courtyard.

Whenever I returned late.

One evening, he stopped me beside the well.

—Where have you been?

I looked at him strangely.

—Why does it concern you?

His expression stiffened.

Perhaps in his memories, I was still his wife.

The woman who waited for him.

Washed his clothes.

Remembered every wound on his body.

But that woman belonged to another lifetime.

—I’m asking because Sophie worries about you.

—Then Sophie can ask me herself.

I walked around him.

Ethan suddenly said:

—You’ve changed.

I stopped.

—So have you.

Our eyes met.

We both understood the hidden meaning.

Neither said it aloud.

On the wedding morning, I packed my suitcase.

My mother discovered me at the door.

—Where are you going?

—To work.

—What work?

I handed her my appointment letter.

Her face changed.

—You applied for a position outside the province?

—Yes.

My father stormed over.

—Who allowed you?

I almost laughed.

—I’m an adult.

—What about us?

There it was.

Not congratulations.

Not concern.

Only what about us?

My mother grabbed my suitcase.

—Your father and I leave for the border district next month. Sophie will be married. You’re coming with us.

—No.

The courtyard went silent.

My father stared at me.

I had never refused him so directly.

—What did you say?

—I said no.

My mother’s expression hardened.

—Your sister has finally found a good marriage. Why must you create trouble now?

—I’m not creating trouble.

I gently removed her hand from my suitcase.

—I’m simply refusing to solve yours.

A figure appeared behind them.

Ethan.

He was already wearing his wedding uniform.

His expression became unreadable when he saw my luggage.

—You’re leaving today?

—Yes.

—Today is Sophie’s wedding.

—I know.

—You’re her sister.

I smiled faintly.

—And you’re her husband.

—So take care of her.

His face suddenly lost color.

Perhaps he remembered.

In our previous life, those roles had belonged to us.

He had been my husband.

And he hadn’t taken care of me.

Sophie hurried outside in her wedding clothes.

—Claire, wait.

She held my hand.

—If you don’t want to go with Mom and Dad, don’t go.

My parents immediately protested.

But Sophie ignored them.

Then she surprised me.

She handed me an envelope.

—Your documents.

I froze.

Inside were several certificates my mother had hidden because she feared I would leave.

Sophie whispered:

—I found them yesterday.

For the first time, I truly looked at my sister.

In my previous life, I had blamed her for everything.

But Sophie had never asked Ethan to marry me.

She hadn’t sent our parents away.

She hadn’t asked me to sacrifice my future.

And she certainly hadn’t caused Ethan’s cruelty.

Perhaps I had spent an entire lifetime hating the wrong person.

—Thank you.

Sophie smiled.

—Write to me.

I nodded.

Then I left.

I didn’t attend the wedding.

Six months later, I heard Sophie and Ethan were struggling.

Not because of me.

Because reality was different from memory.

Ethan had spent his previous life idealizing Sophie after losing her.

But the real Sophie had opinions.

Ambitions.

A temper.

She wanted to continue studying.

She disliked military compounds.

And most importantly, she refused to become the perfect imaginary wife Ethan had mourned for years.

Meanwhile, my parents discovered that I truly wasn’t returning.

They wrote constantly.

My mother complained about the difficult conditions.

My father asked me to request a transfer.

I answered once:

“You said one daughter had to sacrifice. You chose me without asking. I chose differently.”

After that, I stopped explaining.

Two years passed.

I became a senior teacher.

Then an administrator.

For the first time in either lifetime, my salary belonged entirely to me.

My room belonged to me.

My future belonged to me.

Then, one winter afternoon, someone appeared outside the school gate.

Ethan Lu.

He looked older.

Tired.

There was no wedding ring on his hand.

I stopped several steps away.

—Why are you here?

He looked at me for a long time.

—Sophie and I divorced.

I felt nothing.

—I’m sorry to hear that.

His jaw tightened.

—That’s all?

—What else should I say?

He lowered his eyes.

—In my previous life, I thought you stole her future.

There it was.

The acknowledgment neither of us had ever spoken.

We both remembered.

—And now?

His voice became quiet.

—Now I understand nobody stole anything.

He looked at me.

—I simply blamed you because accepting my own choices was harder.

I remained silent.

Then he said:

—I remembered the river.

My fingers tightened.

—I knew you were drowning.

—I know.

—I walked away anyway.

—Yes.

His eyes reddened.

—Claire, I’m sorry.

I had imagined hearing those words countless times in my first life.

Strangely, now they brought no satisfaction.

—Thank you for apologizing.

Hope flickered across his face.

I extinguished it gently.

—But forgiveness doesn’t mean returning.

He stared at me.

—Is there really nothing left between us?

I thought about seven years of marriage.

Our lost child.

His final request.

Then I remembered something else.

The river.

The moment I realized nobody was coming.

And the strength with which I had pulled myself toward the shore.

—There is something.

He stepped closer.

I smiled.

—A lesson.

His expression broke.

I turned toward the school.

Ethan called my name once.

I didn’t stop.

In our first life, Ethan died wishing he had chosen Sophie.

In our second, he finally did.

And discovered that changing brides couldn’t repair the flaws inside himself.

My parents finally experienced a life without the daughter they had always expected to sacrifice.

Sophie finally lived without being turned into anyone’s perfect fantasy.

And me?

I received something none of them had ever intended to give me.

Freedom.

Ethan had once watched me struggle in that freezing river and walked away because he believed saving me had ruined his first life.

For years, I thought that was the cruelest thing anyone had ever done to me.

Eventually, I understood it differently.

He didn’t save me.

So I learned to reach the shore myself.

And once I did, I never needed him to rescue me again.