Frozen Heart, New Start

The last thing I remembered was freezing to death in my garage, alone.

My fiancée, Jenny, had taken all our savings, not for us, but for her lover Mark Todd's son, Leo.

She didn't even seem sad when she found me, just annoyed my death inconveniently interrupted Leo's birthday plans.

I gasped, my eyes flying open to a warm morning sun in my own bed.

The date on my phone was a full year before my demise.

A second chance.

My old auto shop teacher called, offering a full scholarship to an automotive engineering program in California.

In my first life, I turned him down, sacrificing my dreams to stay with Jenny in our small Ohio town.

But this time, a cold, hard resolve filled me.

"I'll take it," I said, my voice firm and clear, my heart an ice block.

Just then, Jenny walked in, laughing with Mark and Leo, acting like they owned my house.

Leo, the spoiled kid, demanded I make him mac and cheese, and Jenny instantly defended him, whispering, "He's just a kid! Don't be so petty."

I watched her doting on them, making them dinner with practiced ease, completely ignoring me and my own cold meal.

Why did I let her walk all over me, drain my bank account, and destroy my future?

This time, I felt nothing but a powerful decision.

I was already gone. They just didn't know it yet.

The last thing I remembered was the biting cold. It seeped into my bones as I lay on the concrete floor of my unheated garage, the engine of my old truck dead. I had frozen to death, alone.

My fiancée, Jenny, had taken the last of our savings. Not for us, but for Mark Todd' s son, Leo, to go to some fancy private school. She didn' t even seem sad when she found my body. Just annoyed. My death was an inconvenience, a disruption to Leo' s birthday party plans.

I gasped, my eyes flying open. I wasn' t in the garage. I was in my bed, the morning sun warm on my face. My phone was ringing on the nightstand. The date on the screen was a full year before my death. A second chance.

I answered the call.

"Ethan? It' s Mr. Hughes."

My old auto shop teacher. The man who saw something in me when no one else did.

"I know this is a long shot," he said, his voice crackling with excitement. "But that automotive engineering program in California, the one sponsored by West-Tech? A spot just opened up. A full ride, Ethan. It' s yours if you want it."

In my first life, I turned him down. I couldn' t leave Jenny. I had to stay in our small Ohio town, work at the garage, and support her while she finished her local college degree. I sacrificed my dream for her.

Not this time.

"I' ll take it," I said, my voice firm and clear.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Really? Just like that? What about Jenny?"

"What about her?" I replied, my heart feeling like a block of ice. I remembered the annoyance on her face as she looked at my frozen corpse. I remembered her prioritizing another man' s child over our future.

"An engagement isn' t a marriage, Mr. Hughes," I said.

He was quiet for a moment, then I heard a slow smile in his voice. "Good for you, son. I' ll send you the paperwork."

I hung up, feeling a strange sense of calm. The past was a nightmare, but it was over. This life was mine.

I got out of bed and walked into the living room. The front door opened, and in walked Jenny, followed by Mark and his son, Leo. They were coming back from a day at the amusement park, laughing and carrying cheap prizes. They moved around my small house like they owned it.

Leo, a spoiled kid who knew he could get anything he wanted, pointed a demanding finger at me.

"Ethan! Make me mac and cheese. The kind with the curly noodles."

I just looked at him.

Jenny immediately pulled me into the kitchen, her voice a sharp whisper. "What' s wrong with you? He' s just a kid. Don' t be so petty."

I didn' t say a word. I just watched her. She opened the cabinets, found the box of pasta, and started boiling water. She moved with a practiced ease, a loving smile on her face as she chatted with Mark. She made the mac and cheese for him and Leo, completely ignoring the cold plate of dinner I had made for myself earlier.

In my past life, this would have torn me apart. I would have felt a surge of jealousy and anger.

Now, I felt nothing. Just a cold, hard resolve. I was already gone. They just didn' t know it yet.

The next day, Jenny' s parents called. Her dad, a decent, hardworking man who had always treated me like a son, had thrown out his back doing yard work.

"I' m swamped with classwork, Ethan," Jenny said, not even looking up from her phone. "Can you go check on them? Maybe pick up some things for them at the hardware store?"

"Sure," I said. It was the perfect excuse.

Later that evening, as I was getting ready to leave, Jenny came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. It was a rare show of affection.

"I had a bad dream last night," she murmured into my back. "It felt so real. You were... gone. And I was all alone."

I felt a flicker of something-a memory of her face, twisted not in grief, but in irritation. I gently removed her arms.

"It was just a dream, Jenny," I said, my voice flat. I turned and left before she could say another word.

I drove to the hardware store to get a back brace and some heating pads for her dad. As I was walking down an aisle, I saw them. Jenny, Mark, and Leo. They weren't at the library or in a classroom. They were in the electronics section, laughing as they picked out a brand-new, big-screen TV. They looked like a perfect, happy family.

She had lied. Again.

I didn' t confront them. I just paid for my items and walked out. There was no point.

I drove straight to Mr. Hughes' s house to thank him for the opportunity. He had the paperwork ready for me on his kitchen table.

"I saw her, you know," he said, not looking at me as he poured two glasses of iced tea. "Jenny. Saw her around town with that teacher, Mark. More than a few times."

He was trying to warn me, to be a friend.

I took a long sip of the tea. It was cold and refreshing.

"I know," I said. "An engagement isn' t a marriage."

He nodded, understanding. He knew I had made my decision. I was finally choosing myself.