Second Chance, Same Choice

The acrid smell of smoke was the first thing that hit me, jolting me back to a nightmare Id already lived. I was home. And the house was on fire.

This time, I noticed something Id missed before. The front door had been locked from the outside.

He had locked me in. He had taken the entire fire crew with him, up into the mountains, to search for her. His long-lost love, his old flame.

The fire crept closer, its heat a living thing, forcing me onto the balcony. I knew what came next. Last time, in this exact moment, I had called him, begging for help. He had rejected the call to save her instead.

I was pregnant. The fire had swallowed me whole.

He had cried afterward, choked with regret. But on the day we were supposed to be married, he stood at the altar with her. Then, on their wedding day, he jumped from a bridge. His suicide note said that if he could do it all over again, he would choose me.

A lie.

Right now, in this second life, my call went straight to voicemail. I could only watch as the flames devoured our home, our future, everything.

The fire was a ravenous beast, consuming everything in its path. I clawed at the front door, my hand blistering against the searing hot metal, only to confirm my terror: it was bolted shut from the outside.

My phones signal was weak, my call to 911 dropping in and out. In a desperate, muscle-memory reflex, I dialed my fianc, Mark. A firefighter. The man who had sworn he would always choose me.

The call connected. Im busy, he said, and hung up.

Thick, black smoke coiled around me, a suffocating blanket. A sharp, cramping pain shot through my abdomen. The wooden furniture, things hed built for me with his own hands, groaned and cracked as the fire ate them alive. I stumbled back, forced onto the small balcony, the fire nipping at my heels.

Finally, my 911 call connected. The voice on the other end was sickeningly familiar.

It was Marks cousin, Zoe.

Our house its on fire, I choked out. Please, hurry

As I spoke, the living room curtains went up in a sheet of flame, a wall of fire lunging toward me. I froze, paralyzed by terror.

Zoes voice dripped with disdain. Look, Abby, its not that I dont want to help you. But Mark took all the experienced guys to the state park to look for Evelyn. The only ones left at the station are a few rookies in training. They cant be deployed.

She let out a dismissive scoff. Besides, Mark told me the fire started in the apartment next door. He said he locked your door specifically for your safety. He said even if the fire spread, youd have plenty of time to get out another way.

Her voice turned sharp. You can drop the act. Im not falling for your little stunts to get his attention. I want my best friend Evelyn to be my cousins wife, not you.

The moment she said Mark had locked the door, the world went silent. I didnt hear the rest of her insults. The fire devoured the trellis he had built for my roses, and just like that, the house that was supposed to hold our six years of love became unrecognizable.

I looked down. Blood was spreading from between my legs, a dark crimson river mingling with the soot and ash.

I couldnt believe I was back here, in this exact moment.

In my last life, the fire from the neighbors kid playing with matches had engulfed the entire floor in minutes. My first instinct had been to call Mark. He had promised me he was on his way. He told me not to worry.

The next thing I knew, he was leading his best crew up a mountain trail, searching for his precious Evelyn, who had been missing for days.

The fire consumed me and my unborn child. When he finally found me, all that was left was a charred, incomplete skeleton.

He had knelt in the ashes, a hollowed-out wreck, refusing to eat or drink for three days. He clutched the urn with my and our babys remains as if he couldnt go on living. His old flame, Evelyn, cried and apologized, but he just stared through her.

My spirit had ached for him, seeing his pain. And then, he married her. On the exact date we had set for our wedding. His parents, even my own, were thrilled. They thought he was finally moving on.

But on their wedding day, he killed himself. His last words, spoken to everyone, were a vow that if he had a second chance, he would choose me without hesitation.

And here we were. A second chance. And he had chosen to lock me in and run to her.

A crowd was gathering on the street below. They saw me, trapped on the balcony, with nowhere left to go. I gripped the railing, the metal so hot it seared my palms, and watched the flames melt the plastic coating at the edges. The outdoor air conditioning unit I was standing on wobbled precariously. My hands and feet were swollen and blistering.

The neighbors who had escaped were scrambling, dragging out mattresses and tarps.

My God, theres a pregnant woman up there all alone!

Shes covered in blood! Hurry, everyone, we have to get her down!

A sea of unfamiliar faces worked frantically below, their brows beaded with sweat, trying to build me a chance at survival. Some of them had burns of their own, but they didnt stop.

A bitter, acidic feeling rose in my throat. These strangers were risking their lives for me, while the man I had loved for years had done nothing but lock the door and hang up the phone.

A single tear traced a path through the grime on my arm. In that instant, the fire surged, a wave of heat washing over me, engulfing my hand.

Call the district fire department! Someones going to die! a man shouted from below.

We did! They just brushed us off, said they dont have anyone available! What kind of fire department is that?

More people were calling, while others organized the makeshift rescue. A little boy yelled up at me, his voice piercing the chaos. Jump, lady! My daddy said well all catch you!

The pain was so immense it was becoming abstract, my mind drifting into a hazy fog.

The sheer volume of calls must have finally gotten through to Zoe. She had trusted her brother, the rising star of the department, the one who gave lectures on rescue techniques. He had assured her hed done a thorough risk assessment of the old apartment buildings in the area. She had believed him.

But the calls kept coming. She couldn't ignore them any longer. She put in an emergency request for a crew from the neighboring district. But in our small county, the two districts were separated by a wide river. Even with the bridge, it would take them forever to get here.

The fire wrapped around my hand, my fingers no longer my own. The balcony beneath my feet was slick with my own blood.

The railing snapped. I had nothing left to hold onto. I fell backward into the inferno.

Before I was reborn, I witnessed Mark's all-consuming grief. I had interpreted his suicide as a final, tragic act of love for me. I had drowned myself in the fantasy of our perfect connection, our shared dreams. When he failed to save me in that life, my heart broke, but it fluttered again when I saw his ghost clutching my ashes before he jumped. I never once doubted his love. He had loved me so loudly, so fiercely, and I had believed him so completely.

But Evelyns existence proved that his love had always had a prior claim.

One text from her saying I miss you was all it took for him to abandon his pregnant fiance and drive hundreds of miles to spend her birthday with her. I had cried, I had begged, I had even used our baby to try and make him stay. All I got was, Can you stop being so dramatic? Evelyn has severe depression. If something happens to her, can you live with that?

So he used that excuse, night after night, leaving me alone while he went to comfort her. After I died, he must have realized that depressed people can take medication, see therapists; they don't always need him. But he wanted to be needed.

Evelyn, insisting on the purity of their platonic friendship, had him give her my number. She made sure to document every moment they spent together. A selfie of them at dinner. A picture of the cake and flowers he bought heron my birthday. A photo of them locked in a tight embrace.

The constant torture from my own fiancs affair wore me down. I started fights over nothing. Nightmares plagued me. Id wake up in a cold sweat, reaching for him, only to find the other side of the bed empty nine times out of ten. When I called his phone, Evelyn would answer. "Mark's fast asleep," she'd whisper. "Want to see?" Then she'd turn on the camera, showing him sleeping soundly, his arm wrapped around her.

His explanation? He was just worried she'd have a relapse if he left. It was too risky. He never explained why they were sleeping in the same bed.

He shattered my heart again and again, then offered just enough hope to piece it back together. My mental state deteriorated until I was a wreck.

When I was finally diagnosed with severe depression, he just laughed. Nice try, hed said with a sneer. Dont pretend youre like Evelyn. You think faking depression is going to stop me from seeing her? Couldnt you come up with a better excuse?

After my death, he found my diagnosis papers and the unopened bottles of antidepressants Id refused to take for the babys safety. He had collapsed.

But in this new life, knowing all of that, he still ran to her.

Oh, how I wished I could tell all those people from my past life who called him a tragic, romantic hero. They were so, so wrong. His devotion was a cheap imitation.

My last tear fell as the flames rushed to meet me.

Below, the crowd of strangers surged forward as one.

I was lucky. They caught me.

But the impact sent a cataclysmic, tearing pain through my abdomen. An older woman with knowing eyes screamed. Oh, God! The baby the babys gone!

As her words fell, my child left my body in a rush of blood and ruin.

For a moment, the world went utterly silent.

Then I heard Zoes voice, raw with panic. She pushed through the crowd with a first-aid kit, her eyes red and swollen. Abby Im so sorry I really thought Mark said he did the inspections, that everything was safe I

She fumbled through a basic check, her face growing paler by the second, especially when she saw the perfectly formed, lifeless infant on the ground. Her hands shook uncontrollably.

The crowds shock turned to fury, directed at the uniform she wore. Where the hell were you people? This is on you! Look at that baby! If you had come even a minute sooner, they both would have been okay!

Sobs broke out among the onlookers.

Zoe kept whispering, Im sorry, Im so sorry, while frantically trying to call Mark.

The first call unanswered.

The second rejected.

On the third, he picked up, his voice a furious bark. What?!