Chapter 1

The last thing I remembered was the crushing pain in my chest, then darkness.

I, Mike Evans, died young from overwork, a fool who sacrificed everything.

My soul, or whatever it was, lingered.

I saw my wife, Jessica. No tears, just a calm face.

My ashes, she tossed them into a dusty box in the garage, next to old paint cans.

Then I saw her with Chad Peterson, her lover, my supposed best friend.

They laughed, holding each other in our bed.

My son, Kevin, the one I adored, the one I funded to become a renowned surgeon, walked in.

He called Chad "Dad."

My entire fortune, built with my sweat and blood, was now theirs.

Jessica's "girls' trips" were escapes with Chad.

Kevin's "specialized training" trips were visits to his real father.

The betrayal cut deeper than death.

Pain, an ocean of it, then a blinding light, a gasp.

I was underwater, choking, the familiar cold of the lake at Miller's summer party.

This was it, the day I "saved" Jessica.

The day my old life, my first life of misery, began.

I saw Jessica flailing, her eyes wide with panic.

Chad, her boyfriend then, stood frozen on the dock, a picture of useless fear.

In my first life, I dove in, saved her, ruined my leg, and became her "hero."

Not this time.

I thrashed, making it look like I was struggling too.

Then I saw my chance.

I pushed Chad hard from behind, sending him stumbling into the water towards Jessica.

"Save her, Chad!" someone yelled.

He splashed awkwardly, finally reaching her.

Onlookers pulled them both out.

Jessica coughed, shivering, but alive. Chad was panting, his face pale.

People turned to me. "Mike, why didn't you help sooner?"

Jessica, her eyes sharp, stared at me. There was a flicker, a recognition that chilled me.

She knew. She remembered too.

I feigned weakness.

"I... I can't swim well," I gasped, my voice shaky. "Chad's her boyfriend, a strong swimmer. He should be the hero."

The crowd murmured, some nodding.

Jessica's eyes narrowed. This wasn't the Mike she knew, the Mike she controlled.

Chad, meanwhile, was clutching his knee, groaning. He'd hit it on the dock or a rock. Good.

Later, Jessica cornered me.

"Mike, what was that?" she hissed, her voice low.

"What was what, Jessica?" I played dumb.

"You almost let me drown. And Chad, he's hurt because of you. His family is furious."

"I told you, I'm not a strong swimmer. Chad did his duty."

"You need to apologize to the Petersons. Take responsibility."

Her audacity, even reborn, was stunning.

I just looked at her, my face blank.

The old Mike would have crumbled, eager to please her.

This Mike felt nothing but cold contempt.

She saw the change, the hardness in my eyes.

"You've changed, Mike," she said, a strange note in her voice, almost like fear.

"Maybe," I said. "People do."

She didn't like this. Not one bit.