For Vivian, he gave up a touring exhibition and ran off to take a teaching job at whatever school she worked at.
Threw away every honor he'd earned, started from scratch—just to be a colleague she'd nod at in passing.
I had cried, I had fought. And all he ever gave me was one weightless line:
Vivian and I have never crossed a line.
Right. Never crossed a line.
His love letters were still hidden in that box. His feelings had never been spoken to Vivian. His body had never strayed.
What excuse did I even have to cry?
Hadn't I been the one who forced this marriage into existence?
Hadn't I been the one who silently allowed his feelings for Vivian?
Everything wrong was my fault. What right did I have to blame him?
So in this second life, I was determined to learn my lesson.
In the months since my rebirth, I'd stayed in and refused every chance to see Nathaniel, giving him back to Vivian. I thought that would be enough to stop the whole mistake before it started. I never expected Nathaniel to show up at my door.
In the middle of the night, someone pounded on our front gate.