chapter 2

“Smart choice. Fine, I'll drive you home.”

We reached the limited-edition Porsche only to find Olivia already sitting in the passenger seat.

She dabbed fresh lipstick in the mirror; a new diamond necklace and two ruby-red love bites decorated her throat.

Seeing me, she beamed, the gems glittering. “Oh, Grace, I hope you don't mind—I called shotgun!”

To her surprise, I didn't break stride and slid into the back seat like a CEO, stating, “You know the address. It's in the GPS.”

Just like that, the happy couple were demoted to driver and hired help.

Ryan's face darkened, and he exhaled heavily.

On the way, Olivia first let out a squeal before holding up a used condom. “Oh my gosh!” she trilled. “Ryan, our last time... Ah, this is so embarrassing!”

She promptly draped herself over Ryan's shoulder, boneless and smug.

Just as the car came to a stop, Ryan glanced back smugly. When I stepped out looking nauseated, he rushed after me.

He yanked my wrist and pinned me against the car door.

“Enough, Grace. Sulking won't work.”

His eyes shone with a strange, feverish excitement.

“I'm destined to love her. Even if you beg, all I can offer is my body—it's my heart you'll never have.”

A wave of nausea rose up, and I gagged.

My stomach cramped.

He shoved something into my palm, jumped back in the car, and tossed over his shoulder as he drove off, “Think of it as an engagement gift.”

I opened my hand to find the tiniest bare ring.

My phone buzzed.

Olivia's social media post flashed on screen: a close-up of the necklace and those tell-tale marks.

Behind her sat a table laden with her favorite dishes.

Her caption read, "My sweet graduation present from Ryan!"

Comments poured in.

Someone wrote, "Where's the matching ring?"

Another commented, "Bet the ring is the real surprise!"

The third comment read, "Congrats! The good news is on the way!"

A private message from Olivia followed, "Grace, in this life, I'm the leading lady. You can only enjoy the freebies."

The “freebie” ring slid from my fingers into the sewer.

No doubt about it. She was reincarnated too.

Next morning, the lab reeked of greasy takeout.

Ryan walked in to find me still bent over the microscope after an all-night trial run, gastric medicine littering the stainless-steel table, and he managed a helpless smile. “Gastric problems again? I told you, your foul mood will be the death of you. Here. I brought breakfast.”

My gut knotted tighter when I lifted the lids and saw nothing but neon-red peppers; Ryan knew perfectly well I couldn't handle even a trace of heat, and the chili addict in our orbit was Olivia.

I couldn't believe he handed me the leftovers she'd shown off on her social media last night. Was he oblivious or deliberately trying to provoke me?

“So, how's the experiment going?”

He craned his neck toward the sterile hood, and I smacked his head back into place.

So that's what he's after—the drug I were developing.

In my previous life, he volunteered for the clinical trial, leaving me pregnant with the child he'd conceived with Olivia.

I remembered those months clearly—he fetched water for my tea, massaged my aching back, and, if I craved some drinks or cakes clear across Riverton, he sprinted out without a word.

His diligence fooled me into believing that blood ties had finally awakened his sense of family.

I convinced myself this was the happiness I craved—our families’ loveless merger, almost no intimacy, yet at least a polite façade of husband and wife.

It wasn't until I died and the truth surfaced that I realized what a colossal joke I'd been.

I was nothing but an incubator for him and the woman he truly loved.

His attentiveness had been the way one tended a hen fattened for its eggs.