I Granted His Dying Wish, Now He's Losing His Mind

Maren's POV

Rhett and I hated each other for ten years.

He hated me because my father drugged his drink and arranged for me to end up in his bed.

He was forced to marry me. Kendall, the stepsister he cherished, couldn’t handle the shock and ran away. She was later kidnapped and murdered outside the city.

I hated him for blaming everything on me. He never touched me, never looked at me, and never spoke a single word to me.

Our marriage became a cold, lonely grave.

Then I was kidnapped.

He stormed into an abandoned warehouse and threw himself between me and the bomb.

Before he died, he said, “Maren, if we get another life, I hope we never meet again.”

When I open my eyes again, I’m back in that hotel room ten years earlier.

Rhett lies on the bed in a Manhattan hotel suite, his shirt hanging open, his skin flushed and his breathing ragged.

This time, I don’t go near him.

I call my father instead.

“Dad, call off the security guards. I don’t want him anymore.”

“Book me a flight out of the country. The sooner, the better.”

I open my eyes to an opulent hotel suite in Manhattan.

Slowly, stiffly, I turn my head.

A man is lying on the bed beside me. His shirt hangs open at the collar, exposing his broad, muscular chest.

His brows are drawn tight with pain. His breathing is heavy and uneven, and his exposed skin is unnaturally flushed.

It’s Rhett.

Rhett, ten years younger.

I’ve been reborn.

I’m back ten years earlier, on the night everything went wrong.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them again, my eyes are cold and clear.

Don’t worry, Rhett.

Fate has given me another chance.

And just as you wished, I will stay out of your life this time.

I throw back the covers and get out of bed.

I don’t approach him with the shy excitement I felt in my previous life.

Instead, I cross to the window and push it open. Cold autumn air pours into the room, cutting through the stifling heat.

I pick up the phone on the table and call my father.

“Sweetheart?” There is nervous anticipation in his voice. “How did it go? Did Rhett…”

At the sound of that familiar voice, tears spill down my cheeks without warning.

In my previous life, my father nearly ruined the entire Prescott family trying to protect my marriage.

I bite down hard on my lip to keep myself from sobbing.

“Dad, call off the security guards,” I say, choking back tears. “I don’t want him anymore.”

“What?” Confusion fills his voice. “But, sweetheart, I thought you loved him more than anything.”

“I don’t want him anymore.”

I wipe away my tears. “You can’t force someone to love you. Dad, please book me a flight out of the country. I don’t care where. Just make it as soon as possible. We’ll pretend tonight never happened.”

“Okay. Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it right now.”

I end the call and look at the man on the bed.

The drug seems to be hitting him harder.

Rhett curls in on himself and lets out a muffled groan.

His eyes open in a daze, and his unfocused gaze sweeps across the room before landing on me.

“I’m burning up…”

His voice is hoarse as he reaches for me.

In my previous life, seeing him like this broke my heart. I went to him in tears and foolishly climbed into his bed.

Now, I only feel exhausted.

I walk over to the bed. He grabs my wrist, his palm burning against my skin.

“Help me…” he murmurs, barely conscious, pulling me toward the bed.

With my free hand, I grab the heavy lamp from the nightstand and swing it into the back of his neck.

Rhett’s body goes rigid before collapsing onto the mattress.

I put the lamp back on the table and rub the red marks his fingers have left around my wrist.

Looking at the unconscious man, I give a humorless smile. Then I settle onto the couch farthest from the bed and fall asleep fully dressed.

The next morning, the first rays of sunlight break through the clouds and stream into the room.

A low groan comes from the bed.

I open my eyes and watch Rhett regain consciousness.

He holds the back of his neck, his brow furrowed as he fights through the pain.

Then he looks up and meets my eyes.

The confusion in his gaze vanishes instantly, replaced by intense disgust.

He sits up and glances at his rumpled clothes before looking over at me on the couch.

He lets out a cold laugh.

“Maren Prescott. You’re as shameless as ever.”

“You’ll do anything to get into my bed, won’t you?” He throws off the covers and strides toward me. “Drugging me was low, even for you. You seem pretty comfortable playing dirty.”

In my previous life, he looked at me with the same disgust and called me shameless.

Back then, I cried and begged him to listen. I told him I didn’t know his drink had been drugged. I told him I had only approached him because I loved him.

He answered by kicking me to the floor.

Now, I feel nothing.

“Are you finished?”

Rhett freezes for a moment. Then the disgust in his eyes deepens.

“What? You don’t have the guts to admit what you did? Do you really think acting innocent will make me forget the filthy stunt you pulled last night?”

He grabs my chin and forces my face up.

“Maren, you’re just like your greedy father. You both make me sick.”

I have no choice but to look at him, at the face I once loved enough to lose myself over.

Every word cuts into me, hitting exactly where it hurts most.

“You think sleeping with me means I have to marry you? Keep dreaming.”

“I’d rather die than look twice at a scheming bitch like you.”