The Day I Chose Differently

A sharp gasp. Cold air filled my lungs as my eyes snapped open. I was in the familiar leather armchair of the Vanderbilt library, sunlight streaming in. June 10th. The day I was to choose my bride. Just moments ago, or so it felt, I was pushed from a penthouse balcony. The rain slicked my face; Seraphina' s sneering expression, Leo' s hands, then her final, venomous whisper: "You shouldn't have chosen me, Ethan. You were always too weak." Then, darkness swallowed me whole. I remembered every manipulated moment-the fake accidents, the endless lies, the plundered fortune, my shattered heart. I had chosen her, Seraphina Ashworth, only to be left a hollow shell, betrayed by the woman I loved and her conniving lover. To die such a humiliating, lonely death. Why was I back? Was this some cruel trick of fate, an unfathomably twisted joke from the universe? Could I really be reliving the very day my misery began, the day I picked the woman who would destroy me? The bitterness was overwhelming, the injustice absolute. But my hands, strong and steady now, confirmed it. I was reborn. And this time, I wouldn't be weak. I wouldn't be a fool. I would choose differently, decisively, and ensure my betrayers paid every last penny.