From Torment to Triumph

For seven years, my husband Jake, a firefighter captain, made our home a tomb. He blamed me for his high school sweetheart Chloe's death in a wildfire, a fire where he "saved" me only because I was pregnant with his son. His constant accusations and cold silence were a living hell. Then, he announced he was using the "Second Chance Program"-an experimental time travel initiative-to go back to that fire. "I have to save her," he said, and with those words, he was erasing our entire life. His final jab, "Why would I have saved you if I didn't worry Chloe would be judged?" echoed the universal blame I already carried. In the rewritten timeline, the nightmare only deepened. He chose Chloe, ran me over with his truck, causing a miscarriage, and then left me bleeding in the inferno. He prioritized Chloe's dog's 'trauma' over my injuries, dismissed my pain as 'faking it,' and starved me, literally taking bread from my tray to feed Chloe's endless demands. How could the man who swore to protect me become this cruel stranger, constantly choosing a manipulating ghost over his wife and unborn child? And then he asked, "How do I even know it's mine?"-a gut-wrenching accusation for a baby already gone. That was the breaking point. I left, clutching the divorce papers he unknowingly signed, determined to use the very same time travel program. Not to fix him, not to save us, but to save myself from the blame, and find a life of my own. My second chance was finally for me.