The Gilded Cage I Escaped

The media called my wedding to Damian Blackwood a modern Cinderella story.

They didn' t know it was a gilded cage, and I was the bird about to be locked inside.

As I stood in my bridal suite, my sister Jessica walked in, her husband Leo trailing behind.

Her eyes raked over my expensive dress, and a look of pure acid twisted her face.

"It should have been me," she hissed, her voice low and venomous.

Then, with a wildness I hadn' t seen, she whispered, "You stole my life, Amy."

Something sharp and cold pressed into my stomach, a silver letter opener.

Warmth bloomed across my white dress as my legs gave out, and darkness swallowed me.

I died, bleeding on the floor, the last thing I saw Jessica' s horrified face.

But then I woke up, not on the plush carpet of a Hamptons bridal suite, but in my childhood bed, years earlier.

The lumpy mattress, the stained floral wallpaper, the year on the calendar-it was all wrong.

Then Jessica walked in, wearing that cheap dress, with the same resentful ambition in her eyes.

She knew.

She was back, too, and declared, "This time, the life of a billionaire' s wife is mine!"

I knew how that story ended.

Let her have him.

The media called my wedding to Damian Blackwood a modern Cinderella story.

They splashed photos of the Hamptons estate across every screen, the ocean a calm blue backdrop to the white roses and glittering crystals. They didn't know the truth. This wasn't a fairy tale, it was a gilded cage, and I was the bird about to be locked inside.

I stood in the bridal suite, the silk of my dress cold against my skin. The reflection in the mirror was a stranger, a perfectly polished doll. My heart felt like a stone.

Then the door opened. My sister, Jessica, stood there. Her husband, Leo, was behind her, his hands shoved awkwardly in the pockets of his worn-out suit. Their beat-up pickup truck was probably parked out of sight, a smudge of rust against the fleet of luxury cars.

Jessica' s eyes raked over my dress, my hair, the diamond earrings Damian had given me. The look on her face was pure acid.

She walked towards me, her steps heavy.

"It should have been me."

Her voice was low, a venomous hiss. I felt a familiar weariness. It was the same argument we'd had for years, ever since I'd met Damian.

"Jess, please. Not today."

"Why not today?" she sneered, getting closer. "This is the perfect day. The day you get everything I ever wanted. You think you deserve this?"

I noticed the shift in her eyes, a wildness I hadn't seen before. A cold knot of fear tightened in my stomach.

"You stole it from me, Amy," she whispered, her face inches from mine. "You stole my life."

She believed it was all luck. A simple twist of fate that I was the one who threw myself in front of Damian' s Tesla that day, not her. She had no idea what it cost me. What he was really like.

Before I could say anything, her hand moved.

Something sharp and cold pressed into my stomach. I looked down. It was a silver letter opener from the antique desk in the corner. Her hand was wrapped tightly around the handle.

"This was my chance," she said, her voice breaking with a sob.

Warmth spread across the white silk of my dress, a dark, blooming flower. My legs gave out. As I slid to the floor, my vision started to blur. The last thing I saw was Jessica's horrified face, finally realizing what she had done.

He's a monster, Jess, I tried to say. Run.

But no sound came out. Only darkness.

I woke up to the smell of damp rot and boiled cabbage.

My eyes snapped open. I wasn't on the plush carpet of a Hamptons bridal suite. I was in my childhood bed, the lumpy mattress digging into my back. The faded floral wallpaper, stained with years of water damage, was the same. The year on the calendar tacked to the wall made my blood run cold.

I was back. Years earlier.

The town was in the grip of a recession. Mills were closing, storefronts were boarded up. The only sign of life was the new, sleek headquarters of AuraTech that loomed on the edge of town like a glass and steel god.

The bedroom door creaked open and Jessica walked in. She was wearing her best cheap dress, the one she saved for job interviews. The look in her eyes was the same one I'd seen just before she killed me. Resentful. Determined.

She knew. She was back, too.

"I'm going to AuraTech," she announced, not looking at me. "I'm going to make something of myself."

My voice was a dry croak. "Jess, don't."

She finally turned to me, her lip curling in a sneer. "Don't what? Don't take what's mine? You had your turn."

She shoved past me, heading for the door. "This time, the life of a billionaire's wife is mine."

I watched her go. In my first life, I would have argued, pleaded, tried to stop her. This time, I just stepped back. I wouldn't make the same mistakes. I wouldn't go near Damian Blackwood.

Let her have him. Let her walk into that gilded cage of her own free will. I already knew how it ended.