Hope dimmed in Chelsey's eyes, and she felt herself slipping toward unconsciousness as she waited for the inevitable.

Without warning, a powerful, scorching grip closed around her wrist, and she was yanked forward into a firm, unyielding hold.

"Hold onto me!" a man demanded as he hoisted her up with little care.

Almost immediately afterward, an explosion thundered ahead, and his arm forced her head tightly against his chest.

Burning smoke flooded her lungs, and a blast of heat rushed past her back.

Cutting through it all was a sharp, chilling scent that struck her as oddly familiar.

Thick smoke stung Chelsey's eyes until they shut on their own, and she fought to open them, desperate to see who had pulled her from danger.

Through the gap beneath the firefighter's mask, she managed to glimpse a pair of deep-set, unreadable eyes.

At the same time, the edge of her vision caught Brett already outside the flames, carrying Lydia to a safer area.

Clutched in his arms, Lydia was held as though she were something precious reclaimed, and Brett's face showed a depth of fear and anxiety she had never once seen before.

Gradually, Chelsey let her eyes fall shut, and a quiet tear traced its way from the corner of her eye.

Deep down, she felt certain that Brett had also been reborn.

This time, however, he chose Lydia.

In their past life, he had pulled Chelsey from the flames, and that decision had cost Lydia her life.

Because of that loss, he carried Lydia's photograph with him for seven long years, grieving her day after day.

So much so that he would not allow any other woman to give him a child.

At last, he had saved the one who mattered most to him, making up for his greatest regret.

He must be happy now.

At the thought, Chelsey curved her lips into a faint, mocking smile.

Perhaps this second beginning was to give them a clean break from a relationship that was doomed from the start. Letting go felt overdue.

After Chelsey breathed in too much smoke and enduring the surge of overwhelming emotions, darkness crept into her vision, and consciousness slipped away.

Just before everything vanished completely, she thought she heard Brett's voice, filled with urgency and panic. "Where is Chelsey?"

Conviction settled in Chelsey's mind that she must have heard it wrong.

By now, Brett's thoughts and emotions revolved entirely around Lydia, and she no longer held any place in his heart.

...

Morning light greeted Chelsey when she regained consciousness.

Slowly lifting her lids, she was met with the worried face of her mother, Gretchen Holden, whose expression brimmed with fear and concern.

"Dear, you're awake at last. Does anything hurt? Are you feeling unwell anywhere?" Gretchen asked in a rush.

Tears welled up immediately as Chelsey bolted upright and wrapped her arms around her mother, clinging to her as if she might disappear.

"Mom, I missed you so much..." she said, her voice breaking as sobs overtook her.

Having her mother by her side in this life felt like an unexpected gift.

In the life before, a few months after she married Brett, her parents had traveled for business, and their private plane vanished into the mountains after a crash, leaving nothing behind.

From that moment on, aside from Brett's outwardly gentle but hollow affection, warmth had been absent from Chelsey's world.

Attention from others was fixated solely on her stomach, followed by whispers and judgment about why she still had not conceived.

Regardless of how much her body ached or how deeply grievances weighed on her heart, she had always endured everything in silence, with no one to lean on or speak to.

More nights than she could count, she had jolted awake from restless dreams, tears soaking her pillow as she longed for her mother to hold her again and reassure her that everything would be fine.

This time, however, fate had shown unexpected kindness by giving her another opportunity.

In this life, she vowed that none of those tragedies would ever happen again.

While Chelsey reached that quiet resolve, Gretchen continued to stroke her back with gentle, steady motions.

"Were you scared last night? Thank goodness Brett reacted fast and rushed in to save you. I was terrified. My sweetheart, you are about to get married. If anything happened to you, how would I go on?"

At those words, Chelsey's brows knit tightly together.

From what she had seen, Brett had clearly charged in to rescue Lydia the night before.

It was someone else who had pulled her from danger. The thought that Brett would take credit for it ignited anger in her chest.

Even so, she knew it was not the right moment to explain everything. Tightening her grip on Gretchen's hand, Chelsey spoke with quiet firmness. "Mom, I'm not marrying Brett."

"Not marrying Brett?" Gretchen exclaimed, clearly stunned, before letting out a heavy sigh. "The wedding date is set, and the invitations are already out. How can you suddenly decide this?"

Seeking comfort like a hurt child, Chelsey pressed her face into Gretchen's embrace. "I just don't want to be separated from you," she muttered.

With slow, comforting strokes, Gretchen ran her hand through Chelsey's hair, and her voice softened. "My precious girl, you have loved Brett since you were young. Wasn't it always your wish to marry him and build a family together? Why has everything changed so suddenly?"

Those words sent a sharp ache through Chelsey's chest.

Reality resurfaced the moment Gretchen spoke.

Her parents had watched Brett grow up, and he won their trust and affection through his outstanding abilities.

After she and Brett got engaged six months ago, her father, Jorge Holden, had even handed company projects to Brett without a second thought.

Chelsey could not bring herself to tell Gretchen that Brett's heart had never held a place for her.

In her previous life, their marriage had been nothing more than a carefully maintained illusion of love and harmony.

She had not even been allowed the joy of becoming a mother. Despite sacrificing her health again and again, she never managed to gain even the smallest trace of his genuine affection.

Over time, even the Holden family's company had been quietly taken over by him, eventually turning into the foundation that supported his rise and the creation of his own business empire.

As those memories surfaced, a sharp ache pierced Chelsey's heart.

"Mrs. Holden, Miss Morley has returned, and Mr. Haynes is with her," a servant called out from outside the room.

Assuming Brett had come to talk about the wedding or to check on Chelsey after the incident, Gretchen gently patted her hand. "Don't let your thoughts spiral. Go wash your face and change into something presentable. You shouldn't keep them waiting."

A deep frown formed on Chelsey's face. So Lydia had only just returned. That made sense. After all, Brett's first love, the woman he had longed for over seven years, was finally back in his life. Of course, he would not send her away so quickly.

Lydia happened to be the daughter of Justine Morley, Gretchen's closest friend.

Half a year earlier, Lydia had returned from overseas to attend Chelsey and Brett's engagement celebration and had lived with the Holden family ever since, claiming she wanted to pursue her career locally.

Out of respect for her long-standing friendship with Justine, Gretchen had treated Lydia with exceptional warmth and care.

During those six months, Gretchen made sure that whatever Chelsey possessed, Lydia received the same treatment, never allowing any hint of neglect.

In the life before this one, Lydia's death in the fire had devastated Gretchen. She collapsed from grief and endlessly blamed herself for failing to take proper care of her best friend's daughter. Guilt swallowed her whole, leaving her world in ruins.

Later on, after her parents had passed away, Chelsey uncovered a hidden truth while organizing their remaining assets—over the years, Jorge had quietly moved large sums of money overseas.

The figures were astonishing. Every transfer led to a single account held in Justine's name.

Tragically, by the time Chelsey discovered this, both Lydia and Jorge were already gone. Because of that, she never had the chance to learn the full truth before her own life came to an end.

With this second chance at life, Chelsey resolved to find the right moment to warn Gretchen that Jorge might have been involved with another woman for years.

Instead of heading downstairs right away, Chelsey stayed where she was.

Because her ankle still throbbed faintly, she asked a servant to wheel her to the railing along the second-floor corridor so she could look down from above.

Standing at the center of the living room was Brett, his tailored suit making him appear imposing and distant.

In a low, controlled voice, he spoke plainly. "Mr. Holden, Mrs. Holden, I brought Lydia back today, but that is not the only reason I am here. I need to make something clear. The wedding between Chelsey and me must be called off. Over the years, I have only regarded Chelsey as a friend, not someone I love romantically. The person I truly love is Lydia. I sincerely hope you will accept our relationship."

From her position on the second floor, Chelsey listened in silence while a bitter smile tugged at her lips. A friend? After seven years of marriage and countless shared nights, that was all she amounted to in Brett's words.

Although she had already decided to walk away, a sharp ache still settled deep in her chest.

Below, an oppressive stillness filled the living room.

Disbelief flashed across Gretchen's face as she stared at Brett, before her eyes shifted to Lydia standing beside him.

Standing there, Lydia lightly pressed her teeth against her lower lip, looking conflicted and embarrassed.

With her emotions surging, Gretchen raised a trembling hand and pointed at Brett. "When did the two of you start this? What do you think my daughter is to you? Do you believe you can announce a wedding whenever you please and cancel it just as easily? And now you expect us to accept you being with her?"

Her finger swung toward Lydia, shaking with fury. "Lydia, since you came back from overseas six months ago, has the Holden family ever wronged you? Is this how you repay our kindness? Have you given even a single thought to Chelsey? She treated you like a sister, shared her connections and resources with you, and this is what you give her in return? Where is your conscience? After all the education you received, do you truly not understand the most basic principles of being human? Tell me!"

Watching from above, Chelsey's brows knit together tightly. Never before had she seen her mother so enraged or so completely unrestrained by her emotions.

To her, Gretchen had always been the picture of elegance and restraint, a woman who spoke gently and never raised her voice, much less hurled such sharp words.

What unfolded now made it obvious that Gretchen was genuinely wounded and furious.

With a steady breath, Chelsey turned to the servant behind her and said, "Take me downstairs."

Down in the living room, tears welled in Lydia's eyes. She looked toward Gretchen. "Mrs. Holden, I'm sorry. I never meant to destroy Chelsey's relationship. But when it comes to matters of the heart, I truly couldn't stop myself."

Brett moved to shield Lydia, placing himself in front of her. "Mrs. Holden, none of this is Lydia's fault. I was the one who fell for her and pursued her."

A cold snort escaped Gretchen as she turned toward her husband, who had remained silent until now. "Jorge, you're the head of this family. What do you intend to do about this?"

An awkward yet polished smile appeared on Jorge's face, notably absent of any anger.

After clearing his throat, he attempted to smooth things over. "Gretchen, try not to lose your temper. Let's discuss this calmly."

He turned his attention to Brett, his eyes full of unmistakable approval. "Brett, this has come as a surprise. But the emotions of young people are never predictable. Love cannot be forced, and it is better to let things unfold naturally. If you and Chelsey were not meant to be, and you now share feelings with Lydia, perhaps this is simply another form of destiny."

Shock flashed across Gretchen's face as she struggled to process what she had just heard.

Disappointment and anger burned in her eyes while she stared hard at Jorge. "Jorge, how can you possibly say something like that? Our daughter was humiliated, and her fiance was taken right from her. As her father, you should be standing up for her. Instead, you talk about some lame destiny. Do you even have a conscience?"

Stung by the public criticism, Jorge faltered and fought to keep his expression composed.

Raising his voice, he said, "Gretchen, mind how you speak. What kind of behavior is this?"

Taking on the air of someone thinking broadly, he continued, "The younger generation should resolve their own problems. We should not interfere too much. Are you really willing to tear apart a couple who care for each other and embarrass everyone just to satisfy your own sense of fairness?"

He then turned to Brett and Lydia, his tone softening considerably. "Brett, Lydia, don't feel burdened. When it comes to love, mutual feelings are what matter most. I get it."

So furious that words failed her, Gretchen pointed at Jorge, her hand trembling.

At that moment, the elevator doors slid open, and Chelsey appeared in a wheelchair, guided forward by a servant.