Dying for His True Happiness

In New York, everyone knew Grady Allen lived for me, Emely Harrison. He was my shadow, my protector, my world, and our future seemed inevitable.

But as I lay dying from ALS, I overheard him whisper, "Emely, my duty to you is done. If there is a next life, I pray I can be with Kandy." My world shattered. His lifelong devotion wasn't love, but guilt for Kandy Paul, a woman who had taken her own life after he' d left her.

Reborn, I found Grady with amnesia, deeply in love with Kandy. To give him the happiness he truly desired, I concealed my own early-onset ALS diagnosis and broke off our engagement, telling his parents, "I won't chain him to a dying woman out of a sense of duty he doesn't even remember."

Despite my efforts, Kandy' s insecurity led her to frame me, accusing me of throwing her engagement ring and setting fire to the mansion. Grady, believing her, threw me into a muddy pit and later choked me, snarling, "You're not even as good as a dog. At least a dog is loyal."

During a kidnapping, I saved Kandy, nearly dying myself, only to wake in a hospital to learn Grady had spared no expense for her, while I lay abandoned.

Why did he choose her, even when his body instinctively reached for me? Why did he believe her lies? I had given him everything, even my life, to set him free.

Now, I would truly be free. I married my brother, Jeremiah, who had always loved me, and left Grady behind, whispering, "Be happy, Grady. We're even now. I'll never see you again."

Chapter 1

In New York, everyone knew Grady Allen lived for me, Emely Harrison.

It was a story the city loved to tell. From the moment my parents died and the Allens took me in, Grady was my shadow, my protector, my world.

He was the one who held my hand through every nightmare, the one who fought boys who looked at me wrong, the one who promised to marry me when we were just kids building forts out of blankets.

As we grew up, that childhood promise solidified into a diamond ring and a future everyone saw as inevitable. He was the powerful heir to the Allen Corporation, and I was his everything.

That devotion never wavered, not even when I was diagnosed with ALS.

In my first life, he spent years by my bedside, a constant, unwavering presence. He researched every experimental treatment, fired doctors who gave up hope, and held my hand as my body betrayed me, one muscle at a time.

I died believing I was the luckiest woman in the world, to be loved so completely.

But in my final moments, as the world faded to black, I heard him whisper.

He was holding my hand, his voice thick with a grief that wasn't for me.

"Emely, my duty to you is done," he murmured, his breath a ghost against my ear. "I've paid my debt. If there is a next life, I pray I can be with Kandy. I'll make it up to her."

The shock was a physical blow, even to my dying body.

My mind, slow and foggy from the medication, struggled to piece it together.

Kandy. Kandy Paul.

I remembered then. A period of a few months, years ago, when Grady had disappeared after a car accident. He'd lost his memory.

When we found him, he was with a woman, a musician named Kandy. He was in love with her.

But his memory returned, and with it, his life as my fiancé. He came back to me.

Kandy, I learned later, had taken her own life.

All this time, I thought Grady's devotion was love. It wasn't. It was guilt. A lifelong penance for the woman who died because of him.

His love for me was a cage built from responsibility. His heart belonged to a ghost.

Darkness took me, his final, desperate wish echoing in my ears.

Then, light.

I blinked, my lungs filling with air, my limbs strong and steady beneath me. I was sitting in a plush armchair in the Allens' study.

Across from me, Mr. and Mrs. Allen were speaking to their head of security.

"Are you sure the doctor can't just... jog his memory? A more aggressive approach?" Mrs. Allen asked, her voice laced with worry.

"Ma'am, the doctor said any attempt to force his memory back could cause permanent brain damage," the security chief replied. "We have to be patient."

It was the exact conversation I'd heard the day they found Grady, the day my previous life's tragedy was set in motion.

I was back.

The old me would have been frantic with joy, desperate to see him, to have him back.

But the woman who had died hearing her life was a lie felt nothing but a calm, chilling clarity.

Grady was alive. He had amnesia. And somewhere out there, Kandy Paul was still alive, too.

This was his wish. A chance to do it right. A chance to be with the woman he truly loved.

I would not stand in his way again.

My first act in this new life was to stop them.

"Don't," I said, my voice quiet but firm.

Mr. and Mrs. Allen turned to me, surprised.

"Emely, sweetheart, we have to do something," Mrs. Allen said gently.

"No," I insisted. "Don't force him. Let him be for now."

I needed to make sure this time, the outcome was different. For all of us.

The next day, I went for a full physical. The results came back as a bitter confirmation. Early-onset ALS. The monster was still there, waiting in my blood.

With the medical report tucked in my purse, I went to the Allens. I found them in the sunroom, their faces etched with worry. I didn't waste any time.

"I want to call off the engagement."

The words hung in the air, heavy and shocking.

Mrs. Allen gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Emely, what are you saying? You and Grady..."

"It's because of me, isn't it?" Mr. Allen asked, his voice grave. "Because he has amnesia, because he's with that a woman right now?"

"Yes," I said, my voice even. "But not in the way you think."

I laid the medical report on the table between us. "I have ALS. In the best-case scenario, I have a few years. Grady has his whole life ahead of him."

I looked them both in the eye, my guardians, the people who had loved me like their own daughter.

"He's forgotten me. Right now, he's in love with someone else. I won't be a burden to him. I won't chain him to a dying woman out of a sense of duty he doesn't even remember."

This wasn't a lie. It was the truest thing I had ever said. In my last life, I was his burden. A beautiful, tragic obligation.

"That's nonsense!" Mrs. Allen cried, tears welling in her eyes. "Grady loves you more than life itself! The moment he remembers, he'll come right back to you! He would never see you as a burden!"

Her words were a painful echo of a life I no longer wanted.

I took out my phone and played a video. It was from the private investigator I'd hired the moment I was reborn.

The footage was grainy, taken from a distance. It showed Grady sitting by a lake. A young woman with bright, hopeful eyes, Kandy Paul, came and sat next to him.

Grady's face, which had always been reserved and stoic for the world, transformed. He looked at her with a tenderness, a raw-edged adoration I had never seen. Not once, in a lifetime of him being by my side.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He smiled a real, unguarded smile.

The video ended. The sunroom was silent, thick with the weight of unspoken truths. Mr. and Mrs. Allen stared at the blank screen, their faces pale.

"He loves her," I said softly. "It's not just the amnesia. That's a love that comes from the soul. The kind you can't force or fake."

I folded my hands in my lap, my decision a solid, heavy thing inside me.

"Please," I said. "Let him go. Let me go. It's the best thing for everyone."

Mr. Allen finally looked up, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. "What will you do, Emely?"

"My brother is making arrangements," I said, the thought of Jeremiah a small point of warmth in the cold. "I'm going abroad for treatment. To try and buy myself some more time."

I looked out the window, at the life I was about to leave behind.

"I want to live," I said, more to myself than to them. "For as long as I can."

My palms were cold as I left the sunroom. The Allens had agreed, their faces a mixture of heartbreak and resignation. The first chain was broken.

But as I walked down the hall, Mrs. Allen caught up to me, her touch gentle on my arm.

"Emely," she began, her voice hesitant. "I know you've made up your mind. But... would you do one last thing for us?"

I knew what she was going to ask before she said it.

"We can't get him to come home," she said, her eyes pleading. "He doesn't trust us. But you... he might listen to you. We just want him back here, where he can be safe, where doctors can monitor him."

I saw the hope flickering in her eyes. The hope that if Grady saw me, some dormant piece of his memory would wake up, that their perfect world would snap back into place.

Mr. Allen appeared behind her. "We're just so busy with the company, Emely. We can't get away. Please. Just go talk to him."

I knew their intentions were pure, born from a lifetime of loving both of us. I couldn't refuse them.

But I also knew their hope was a fantasy.

The man I was going to see wouldn't be moved by my presence. He was no longer mine.

They gave me the address, a small, rundown cabin by a lake hours outside the city. It was the place Kandy had taken him after his accident.

When I arrived, I saw him before he saw me. He was sitting on a rickety wooden dock, skipping stones across the water. He was wearing clothes that weren't his-faded jeans, a simple t-shirt. He looked younger, less burdened.

He was whittling a small piece of wood. My gaze lingered on it, and in that instant, he looked up, his eyes sharp and guarded.

"Who are you?" he asked. His voice was flat, cold.

"I'm Emely," I said, keeping my own voice calm. "I'm not here to hurt you."

He didn't relax. His brows furrowed. "I'm not going back with you. Kandy needs me."

I had never heard him speak with such cold dismissal. The Grady I knew spoke to me with a warmth that was mine alone. This stranger's voice was a shock, a physical jolt that left me momentarily breathless.

Just then, a figure emerged from the lake. Kandy Paul, her hair slicked back, water dripping from her lithe frame. She was beautiful, vibrant.

Grady was on his feet in a second, rushing to the edge of the dock. He pulled her out of the water, wrapping a large towel around her shoulders. He fussed over her, gently dabbing water from her cheeks with the corner of the towel.

He was holding the piece of wood he'd been carving. He pressed it into her hand. It was a crude, half-finished bird.

Kandy beamed, her face lighting up. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Don't let anyone see you, silly," she whispered, tugging his hoodie up to cover his face. "You're my secret."

A memory surfaced. Grady had been missing for three weeks before we found him. He hadn't just been lost; Kandy had hidden him.

Her eyes met mine over his shoulder. She froze. Her hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with surprising strength.

"I didn't hide him on purpose!" she blurted out, her voice high and panicked. "He was hurt, and he didn't know who he was! I was just taking care of him!"

I looked at her, at the raw fear in her eyes. I didn't need to say a word. She knew that I knew.

"I love him," she confessed, her voice cracking. Her grip on my wrist tightened. "Please, don't take him away from me. I know who you are. You're his fiancée. You have everything. I just have him. I'll die if he leaves me."

I didn't answer. My gaze shifted to Grady. He was watching Kandy, his expression fierce and protective. He was a guard dog, ready to attack anyone who threatened her.

The sight of it was a strange mix of pain and relief. He truly loved her. My sacrifice wouldn't be in vain.

I couldn't be selfish again. I couldn't bind him to me with a past he didn't remember and a future I didn't have.

"I'm not here to take him from you," I said calmly, my voice pulling Kandy from her spiral of panic.

She looked at me, bewildered.

"I'm here to take you both home. To his home."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"If I leave you here," I explained, my logic cold and clear, "he won't come with me. So you have to come, too."

I remembered the stories from my first life. After Grady's memory returned and he went back to me, he had been frantic to find her. He' d barely eaten or slept. He'd threatened to jump off the Allen Corp building if his parents didn't help him find Kandy.

When they finally located her, it was too late. She had taken an overdose of pills.

His grief had been a terrible, silent thing. It had settled over him, a permanent shadow. And that shadow had transformed into a heavy sense of responsibility toward me.

I would not let that happen this time.

"Pack your things," I told Kandy, my voice gentle but firm. "His parents know about you. They won't object to your relationship."

Kandy stared at me, her mind clearly reeling. A million questions must have been swirling in her head, but the shock of this unexpected victory overshadowed them all.

She grabbed Grady's hand, a joyful, disbelieving smile spreading across her face, and pulled him toward the cabin to pack.

Grady paused and looked back at me. Seeing that I meant Kandy no harm, the coldness in his eyes softened.

"I'm sorry," he said, a touch of awkwardness in his tone. "For how I acted."

His mood was entirely dictated by her. A pang of something, a memory of a time when I was the center of his universe, went through me. He used to be like a big dog, always following me, his eyes full of a devotion that was suffocatingly sweet.

That Grady was gone. This man belonged to someone else.

It was for the best, I reminded myself.

I drove them back to the Allen mansion. The reunion was strained. Mr. and Mrs. Allen were disappointed but tried to hide it, plastering on polite smiles. They started pointing out photos, trying to spark Grady's memory.

"And this is your grandfather... and this was your eighteenth birthday party..."

When they got to a large framed photo of Grady and me, they hesitated.

I stepped forward before they could speak. I focused on Grady, whose face was a mask of confusion and suspicion. He looked from the photo to me, then to his parents' strained smiles. His mind, a blank slate, was clearly struggling to connect the dots.

"Look, I know this is weird for you," I said, my voice gentle but direct. "Everyone's walking on eggshells. The short version is, we grew up together. I'm the annoying little sister you couldn't get rid of." I glanced at the photo. "That was taken right before I got engaged to someone else. You were supposed to walk me down the aisle."

I let out a playful, exasperated sigh. "Honestly, your timing is the worst. My fiancé is waiting, and I can't get married without my big brother."

The lie felt slick and easy on my tongue. In the room, the Allens and the staff who knew the truth wore complicated expressions. But for Grady, who was drowning in a sea of unfamiliarity, my simple, plausible lie was a lifeline. It explained my presence, the photo, and his parents' anxiety in a single, non-threatening narrative. I saw the tension in his shoulders ease, not because he fully believed me, but because he finally had a story he could grasp.

He even apologized. "Sorry, Em. Once I'm settled, I'll help you find a great guy."

Then he did something that made my breath catch. He reached out and ruffled my hair, a gesture so familiar, so ingrained, that he himself paused for a second, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

He looked around the room, at the countless objects that tied him to me-our shared trophies on the mantelpiece, the silly drawings we'd made as kids framed on the wall. I saw a flicker of unease cross his face.

Later that evening, he started moving things. He carried all our shared memories-the photos, the awards, the mementos-into the backyard. He built a pile and set it on fire. He didn't want Kandy to see them.

The bright, hungry flames woke me from a deep sleep. I walked to my window and saw him standing there, his face illuminated by the fire, watching our past turn to ash.

The fire consumed everything. The photo of us at prom, him looking so serious in his tux. The spelling bee trophy we'd won as a team. The candy wrappers from the first box of chocolates he'd ever given me.

In the flickering light, his profile was sharp and cold. The warmth he'd shown Kandy was gone, replaced by an icy determination to erase me.

A sharp pain seized my chest, so intense it felt like a fist clenching my heart. I pressed a hand to my sternum, forcing myself to breathe through it.

He turned then and saw me standing in the doorway to the yard. He smiled, a frank, open smile, completely unaware of the devastation he was causing.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. "I'm just cleaning up some old stuff. I don't want Kandy to feel uncomfortable."

I shook my head, unable to speak. My eyes fell on a half-burnt object at the edge of the fire. I bent down and picked it up.

It was half of a small, wooden doll. He had carved it for me when I was ten, for my birthday. His hands were clumsy then, and he' d spent a week on it, his fingers covered in cuts and blisters. He' d told me it was a good luck charm, that as long as I had it, he' d always find his way back to me.

He would never remember that now.

"It's okay," I finally managed to say, my voice surprisingly steady. "Let's get rid of the rest of it. The things in my room, too."

The cold of the night seeped into my bones, a stark contrast to the heat of the fire licking at my past.

After everything was gone, reduced to a pile of glowing embers, Grady grabbed my wrist.

"Em, can you help me with something?"

I knew what he wanted before I saw the servants carrying boxes of fireworks into the yard.

"Kandy loves fireworks," he explained, his eyes bright with an excitement that was not for me. "I want to surprise her. Can you just make sure everything goes off right?"

For a second, a bitter question rose in my throat. And what about me, Grady? Where do I fit in this new life you're building?

But his next words silenced me.

"It's just... seeing you makes me feel calm," he said, a genuine, puzzled look on his face. "Like I can trust you. We must have been really close before."

The irony was a physical blow.

I nodded, a motion stiff and painful. "Okay."

He grinned, instantly relieved. He pressed a sparkler into my hand as a thank-you gift and ruffled my hair again before striding away, eager to get back to his real love.

Alone in the yard, I watched the fireworks explode against the black sky. They burst into shimmering, beautiful words, a poem written in light.

Kandy, my moon, my stars, my everything. I was lost until I found you.