The day before the spacecraft launch, I am anonymously reported for concealing a mental illness and lose my qualification to board.

After being confined in a psychiatric hospital for three years, my husband, Simon Bergman, who is now a decorated figure in the aerospace field, personally brings me home.

"I had no choice but to send you there. I even applied to be demoted just to bring you back. Let's just live our lives well from now on," Simon says.

Burdened by guilt for affecting his career, I spend the rest of my life carefully taking care of him and busying myself in the kitchen as a dutiful wife.

But before I die, my daughter finds the letter accusing me of having a mental condition—it is written in my husband's own hand.

She also discovers decades of correspondence between him and a deceased war buddy's widow named Charmaine Marlowe.

In those letters, he writes that to fulfill his buddy's dying wish to take care of Charmaine, he fabricates a false mental illness record and inserts it into my astronaut application. As a result, I was sent to the psychiatric hospital, and my position was taken by her.

The glass shatters, and the sharp fragments pierce me, like they are stabbing into my heart.

I was supposed to be the one to go to space. But my husband sacrificed my chance so that another woman could have it!

I die in despair.

When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of the astronaut selection for the manned spacecraft launch.

This time, when Simon offers to help submit my application, I refuse to let him.

My husband, Simon Bergman, paused, clutching the documents tightly. "Honey, I told you—rest well these few days. I'll handle errands like this for you."

I clenched my fists so tightly that my knuckles turned white, and a sharp ache hit me.

I had always trusted him completely. In my past life, he had used me without my knowledge, submitting my documents with forged proofs that could have ruined me. I was then locked away in a psychiatric hospital for three dark, endless years, and my life had veered onto a completely different path.

I refused to go through that again. I tried to stay calm, but my hands shook uncontrollably as I reached for the documents. "I just remembered I didn't finish filling out one section. I'll complete it and submit it myself," I said.

Simon looked anxious as he took the papers back. "Which part isn't finished? I can help."

I locked the papers in the cabinet, forcing a faint smile. "No need. I can handle it myself. Isn't the soup still on the stove? You should check on that."

Simon reluctantly left the room, and I immediately pulled the application back out. As expected, a falsified mental health record was tucked inside.

I felt like I had fallen into an icy pit. It was all true.

Simon returned with the soup. I quickly put the documents back in the cabinet, and when I looked at him, my eyes were red.

He froze, set the bowl down, and pulled me into his arms. "Why are you crying?"

I forced the tears back and took a deep breath. "Didn't you say that you wanted to end our partnership? I agree."

In my past life, Simon had mentioned it more times than I could count.

I had always believed that after ten years of working side by side, no one could understand each other better than we did. At the office, partners were always paired as a man and a woman.

I had been stubborn. How could I ever willingly hand my husband over to another woman?

Now that I knew the truth, everything was clear. If I refused to change partners, he would send me to a psychiatric hospital within half a month. This time, I had to choose my own future.

Simon paused before smiling widely. "Honey, you finally get it. If we stop being partners, our training will only improve."

He had prepared the application long ago. When he handed it over, I looked at him carefully, hoping to find even a hint of reluctance. We had been partners for ten years. He should have felt something, but he didn't. He looked genuinely thrilled.

What was there left to hope for?

I signed the papers. Simon then leaned in and kissed me, as if making up for lost time.

"How did I get so lucky to marry such a wonderful woman like you? Don't worry. Even if we're no longer partners, I'll still watch your back at work."

I curled my lips in a faint, bitter smile. The whole thing felt absurd. Simon did not even bother to hear me out before rushing off to work.

Before he even arrived, he had already taken out his phone to call Charmaine Marlowe. I had seen that bright, beaming smile on his face before. When he traveled thousands of miles just to see me, when he proposed to me, and when he found out I was pregnant, he had worn that exact same smile.

I burned the forged psychiatric report, then filled out a new astronaut application and submitted it to the unit.

This time, no one was going to stop me from boarding.

When I arrived the next day, I saw all my belongings shoved into a box and dumped in the cramped shared office area outside. They had been moved out of Simon's office.

Charmaine had already moved into his office.

She was draped in Simon's jacket, eating the breakfast he had personally made, enjoying everything that had once been mine.

So this was what he meant yesterday when he said he would always protect me.

My coworker, Richard Dale, couldn't stand it and insisted on confronting Simon. "Not only did he swap partners without permission, but now he won't even let you use the office. Who does he think he is?"

I stopped Richard and smiled lightly. "Don't go. I was the one who asked to end our partnership. That office really doesn't belong to me anymore."

That included Simon himself.

That afternoon, during capsule training, I was reassigned from the advanced group to the beginner group with Charmaine.

I didn't have to guess who was behind it. I headed straight to Simon's team.

Charmaine had just finished training and could barely stay on her feet. Simon scooped her up from the capsule, carrying her gently. He patted her back anxiously and handed her a water bottle.

"This is my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you into such a difficult challenge so soon."

Charmaine wiped the sweat from her forehead and smiled gently. "It's okay. As long as I can go to space with you, I am willing to endure anything."

They chatted for a while before Simon finally noticed me.

His hand, which had been resting on her waist, jerked away as he hurried to explain, "Honey, Charmaine isn't feeling well. As the team leader, I am just concerned about her condition. Don't overthink it."

I didn't want to overthink it. When his hand left her, Charmaine looked at me with undisguised jealousy.

"I'm really sorry. Simon has always treated me like this. Please don't fight with him because of me. He is already exhausted," she said gently, though her tone carried a clear edge of provocation.

She had always been like this. Simon had just never seen through her hidden meanings.

I didn't respond. Instead, I looked straight at him.

"Why did you transfer me to another training group? You know the final astronaut selection is coming up. Are you trying to get me eliminated?"

Simon hesitated. "You've got the wrong idea. You've been under too much pressure lately. I just thought some basic training might help you unwind."

Charmaine interjected, "That's right. Simon is only thinking about you. I didn't join his team to replace you. He simply couldn't bear seeing me treated unfairly in my old group."

I smiled faintly, but my eyes welled with tears.

It usually took more than five years of basic training to qualify for the advanced group.

Simon had joined two years before me. He had seen me being bullied, mocked, and scolded harshly by instructors.

Back then, he never asked me to switch groups. He had only left me with one cold but fair remark.

"If you put everything into your training, who would dare say anything about you?"

With only a handful of criticisms from her instructor, Charmaine was immediately moved into his team, while all six years of my effort were completely disregarded.

I looked at him and asked, "Do you really think Charmaine belongs in this group? She's not ready for this. Simon, you're stripping me of everything I've worked for by transferring her here!"

I nearly shouted it out loud. I couldn't believe he dared treat me so unfairly.

Charmaine's eyes instantly welled with tears.

"Simon, please transfer me back. I don't mind hardship or criticism, but I won't stand for this kind of humiliation!"

He approached her, letting her rest against him, and shot me a sharp look. "That's an unfair thing to say. Remember, you're in this group because I put in a good word for you."

In the end, he said firmly, "If you keep acting out, it only proves my decision was right. Your temper is too sharp. Stay in the basic training group and use this time to improve."

I went home, packed my things, and prepared to move into the dorms. Simon had already cut off my training opportunities to make way for Charmaine, and he surely had more plans up his sleeve.

It wasn't until I left a divorce petition behind that I finally stood.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and my brother, Matthew Prescott, barged in.

"Jean Prescott, you owe Charmaine an apology," he barked, staring at me with pure fury.

"What did I do wrong?" I shouted, feeling both furious and wronged.

Matthew roared, "You humiliated her in front of everyone, saying she didn't deserve to enter the advanced training group, and you think you did nothing wrong? How could the Prescott family raise such a heartless monster like you? Charmaine's late husband gave his life to save Simon and me! You owe it to her!"

Desmond Shelby, Charmaine's late husband, had been Matthew and Simon's comrade. He gave his life during a critical mission to protect them, leaving them both with a lifelong debt of guilt toward Charmaine.

I stood my ground. "He saved you for your own lives. Why should my future be the price for that?"

Matthew froze, shocked by my words.

Simon stepped forward, looking at me with disappointment. He frowned and said, "Jean, I never imagined that you could be this cruel. If Desmond hadn't risked everything for us, do you think you'd still be living a life of comfort under our care? Everything you enjoy now comes at Charmaine's expense, and you don't feel a shred of guilt!"

Matthew came forward to grab my luggage. "Give me your training materials. Charmaine needs them."

I clutched my bag tightly, refusing to let go.

Tears streamed down my face as I shouted, "I'm not giving it up! This is mine!"

Simon lunged at me as well, trying to pull the bag from my hands.

He pried my fingers apart, gripping so hard that I thought he might break them. "You're talented, and you'll still have a chance to go to space. Charmaine is older, and this is her only shot. Give it to her, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Isn't that fair?"

I stared at him stubbornly. "I won't let go!"

Simon's strength overwhelmed me. He yanked the bag from my grasp and threw me to the ground. My head struck the sharp corner of a desk, and the metallic tang of blood filled the air.

My hands trembled as I pressed against the back of my head.

Blood was everywhere.

"Astronauts can't have scars! Simon, Matthew, get me to a hospital!"

Panic flared in Simon's eyes as he rushed to support me. "Honey, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault… I'll get you to a hospital right now!"

A piercing scream came from outside.

"Simon! I cut myself on the glass! My foot is bleeding!"

Simon immediately let go of my hand and ran toward the door. Matthew, who had been coming toward me, also changed direction.

As their voices faded into the distance, I struggled to my feet and began the painful walk to the hospital.