Chapter 1

My home burned while my firefighter husband Derek Jeter diverted his entire crew to save his first love who was attempting suicide.

I watched our carefully decorated home turn to ash without bothering to call him.

In my previous life, he answered my call and rushed to save pregnant me. His first love, overwhelmed by depression, jumped from the 18th floor, dying instantly.

Axel swore he had no regrets about choosing me and our baby. Our wedding proceeded as planned.

But on our wedding day, he snapped my leg and dragged me to his first love's grave.

"The fucking fire was nothing, Ember," he snarled. "You deliberately sent me away so I couldn't see her one last time!"

"Layla was pure and innocent. Why couldn't worthless trash like you have died instead?"

Like a madman, he cut our baby from my womb, threw it from the 18th floor, then burned me alive.

When I opened my eyes again, I'd returned to the day of the fire. This time, if he wanted to save his precious first love, I'd let him. I was done fighting for his love.

...

Thick smoke filled the apartment.

Choking through violent coughs, I grabbed my phone and dialed 911.

The voice on the phone was all too familiar.

"Well, well, Ember," the voice said smugly. "Axel said you'd call. Guess he was right."

Derek—my husband's fellow firefighter and drinking buddy.

"Derek, my place is on fire. Send someone now."

A burning wardrobe collapsed nearby, its flaming debris searing my skin and tearing a scream from my throat.

Despite my obvious distress, Derek sounded amused.

"Drop the act, Ember."

"Axel already told me you'd call because you're jealous he's saving his first love. We both know it's bullshit."

"Anyway, the police are short-staffed, so quit your drama."

"Layla's situation is actually life or death. You and Axel are getting married soon—your petty jealousy isn't helping your relationship at all."

The flames grew more intense. I hung up on Derek's condescending voice.

Five years wasted on Axel. I stared at our burning home—five years of memories fueling the flames around me. My hand drifted to my belly.

I never expected to relive this nightmare.

The first time, I called Axel directly. He rushed over with his team, missing Layla's fifteen desperate calls.

Later, we discovered Layla had experienced a severe depressive episode and jumped from the 18th floor.

After surviving the fire, I cried in Axel's arms as he promised he had no regrets about saving me and our child. All lies.

Our wedding went ahead as planned. I wore my dream dress, marrying the man I'd loved for five years. Just as I thought we were beginning our new life, he destroyed everything.

Axel broke my leg. Blood soaked my wedding dress. Ignoring my screams, he drove me to where Layla had jumped and forced me to kneel and apologize to her.

I had no idea what I'd done wrong.

This man was my husband. My baby's father.

His eyes blazed with hatred: "The fire was nothing, Ember. You fucking manipulated me so I couldn't say goodbye to her!"

"If I hadn't found Layla's diary, I'd never have known what a conniving bitch you really are!"

"Her depression was YOUR doing. Layla was a goddamn angel while you're nothing but poison. Why the fuck couldn't it have been your brains splattered on the pavement instead?"

I had no idea what he was talking about. But Axel had truly snapped.

"Now you can feel what it's like to lose everything you love!"

With a knife, he cut our baby from my womb and threw it from the 18th floor.

My agonized screams didn't trigger an ounce of compassion in him.

He dragged me like roadkill and locked me in a dark room.

I begged him to spare me, asking what our five years together had meant.

stood there, expressionless, pouring gasoline all over the room.

My final memory was him staring down at me—not as his new wife, but as his mortal enemy.

He flicked his lighter and ignited the gasoline—

"The thought of spending five years with disgusting filth like you makes me fucking sick!"

"You like faking fires to make me come running? Let's see how you enjoy burning for real, bitch. I hope it hurts the entire time!"

Chapter 2

Burning to death is agony beyond description.

I still feel the memory of flames eating through my flesh. And now, I face that same horrific death again.

I thought not calling Axel would change things. Instead, that heartless bastard told his coworkers I was faking the entire fire.

Sharp pains stabbed through my belly, as if my unborn child was warning me just how coldhearted this man truly was.

Five years. That's how long I wasted on Axel.

We bought this apartment two years ago as our future marital home. Though it was in an older building and not particularly spacious, I didn't mind.

We were just ordinary working-class people, and owning a home in Metro City's was already an achievement.

Having lost my parents early in life, my deepest desire was to create a happy family of my own. During our most intimate moments, Axel promised countless times that he would make me happy, and I foolishly believed him.

Every piece of furniture in our home was carefully selected together. The flowers on the balcony were lovingly tended by me. I poured my heart into making this place the cozy haven I'd always imagined.

But like these suddenly failing electrical wires, my relationship with Axel had already fallen apart.

Hidden beneath every day I naively thought was filled with steady love lurked a terrible danger.

I calmly retrieved our precious photo album containing all our pictures from the past five years. Axel once joked that we should preserve it to show our children someday.

Now, in seconds, the album turned to ash in the growing flames.

The fire intensified, flames spreading everywhere, consuming the wooden bedroom door, the bed, and the curtains, all rushing toward me.

My only escape was the window.

I quickly climbed through it.

Standing on the air conditioning unit, my hands gripping the scorching hot window frame, I knew the danger was far from over.

This was the fifth floor.

While not terribly high, I was heavily pregnant—if I fell, the outcome was uncertain.

Below, a crowd had gathered—mostly neighbors from nearby. At a glance, I recognized several familiar faces.

Seeing me emerge from the apartment, these neighbors became alarmed.

"Hold on tight! Don't let go!"

"We've called the fire department!"

Strangers who barely knew my name screamed for me to hold on. But Axel, who had shared over five years with me—nearly two thousand days and nights—didn't even look back.

I smiled bitterly, once again understanding what it meant to trust the wrong person.

With so many calls flooding in, Derek finally realized something was wrong. One or two calls could be dismissed as pranks, but with numerous increasingly urgent calls coming in, even he began to doubt his assumptions.

Axel had used his authority to take nearly all firefighters to rescue Layla, leaving Derek with no team even if he wanted to respond.

The neighbors below waited anxiously, but no fire truck arrived.

Meanwhile, I was becoming increasingly unsteady on my perch.

The pain in my belly left me pale and trembling uncontrollably. My hands, now covered in blisters from the heat, could barely grip the railing.

Amid the horrified cries from below, I could no longer hold on and fell backward...

Chapter 3

In my hazy state, I suddenly remembered when Axel and I first got together.

We met through a blind date our mutual friend arranged. Somehow, we clicked instantly during our first meeting.

Neither of us could handle spicy food. We both hated overpowering flavors. We shared a love for documentaries and indie films, and both wanted a home filled with plants and pets.

I really thought Axel and I were meant to be. What a joke. I naively assumed he felt the same way. He certainly played the part—attentive, thoughtful, even making that dramatic promise at my parents' graves that he'd "love me forever."

It never crossed my mind that someone else already owned his heart.

Everyone kept telling me how crazy Axel was about me. Like an idiot, I swallowed it all.

Until Layla—his precious first love—came back from Europe.

That night stands out in my memory. Pouring rain, past midnight. Her call woke us both up, and despite my protests, Axel threw on clothes and bolted. Just like that.

Looking back, that should've been my wake-up call about how much Layla meant to him.

Instead, I bought his half-assed excuse about her depression. He made it sound like he was her only lifeline, and soft-hearted fool that I was, I believed him.

Why couldn't Layla see a therapist? Take medication? Call literally anyone else? Why always my husband, and why always in the middle of the night?

To make it worse, Layla added me on social media—Axel's brilliant idea to "prove" nothing was happening.

They kept insisting everything was innocent. "We're just worried you'll misunderstand, Ember."

Meanwhile, this supposedly sweet, innocent Layla kept sending me photos that were anything but innocent.

Movie nights together. Axel cooking dinner for her. Axel sleeping on her couch, exhausted. Their hands clasped together.

Every time I confronted him about these obvious provocations, he'd just rub his temples like I was some hysterical lunatic he had to deal with.

"Jesus Christ, Ember, I'm fucking exhausted," he'd snap.

"I'm just trying to keep her from killing herself. There's nothing between us."

"Can you stop with the jealous bullshit for once?"

Looking at how he reacted after her death—murdering our unborn child and burning me alive—it sure as hell wasn't "nothing."

Now I'm living through this nightmare again, backed into a corner by the same man.

Axel never loved me.

I completely misjudged him, and I paid for it with my life once already.