Blurb：
In this gripping tale of love, betrayal, and rebirth, Quinn finds herself trapped in a blazing inferno as her firefighter husband Kyle chooses to save his first love Lynn instead of their home. Reborn into the past, Quinn must navigate a web of lies and manipulation. With characters like Kyle, Lynn, and Ryan shaping her destiny, she fights for survival and redemption. This emotional rollercoaster explores themes of second chances and revenge, perfect for fans of dramatic romance and suspense. Dive into Quinn’s journey as she confronts her past to secure a future free from betrayal.
Content：
My house was on fire. Bnd my husband, a firefighter has diverted his entire crew to save his first love—who was threatening to end her life.
I didn’t call my husband, calmly watching our lovingly decorated home being consumed by the flames.
In my previous life, he answered my call first and came to save me, and our unborn child.
But that same day, his ex, overwhelmed by her depression, jumped from the eighteenth floor.
My husband said he didn’t regret saving me and our child, and our wedding proceeded as planned.
But on our wedding day, he broke my legs and forced me to kneel before her tombstone.
“The fire at home wasn’t even that serious, Quinn. You deliberately distracted me so I couldn’t see her one last time!”
“Lynn was so kind—why couldn’t it have been you who died?”
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the fire.
This time, if he wants to save his first love, let him.
I’ve decided to give up.
…
Thick, black smoke filled the apartment,
I choked, coughing uncontrollably, and quickly took out my phone to call 911.
The voice that answered was all too familiar.
“Mrs. Quinn, Kyle said you’d call. I can’t believe you actually did.”
It was my fiancé Kyle’s colleague and best friend, Ryan.
“Ryan, there’s a fire at my place. Please send someone quickly.”
As I spoke, a wooden wardrobe cracked and collapsed from the heat.
Flaming wood grazed my skin, the searing pain making me gasp.
In this critical moment, Ryan’s tone remained light, as if he didn’t take my words seriously at all.
“Come on, cut the act, Mrs. Quinn.”
“Kyle already told me you’d be jealous he went to save his ex, so you’re making a false alarm.”
“To be honest, there’s hardly anyone at the station right now. Just stop making a scene.”
“This is a matter of life and death. You and Kyle are about to get married soon. Constantly doubting him like this… it’s not good for your relationship”
The fire grew increasingly intense. I had no patience to listen to Ryan’s lecture and hung up.
What he thought no longer mattered to me.
Looking at this house, which held five years of memories with Kyle, I sighed deeply and placed a hand on my abdomen.
I never expected to be reborn at this moment.
In my previous life, this fire had happened too.
In my past life, I called my fiancé Kyle directly.
He rushed over with a team to put out the fire. His first love, Lynn, called him over a dozen times, but he didn’t hear any of them.
Later, we found out Lynn had a depressive episode that day and jumped from the eighteenth floor.
In the aftermath, as I clung to Kyle, sobbing with relief, he told me he didn’t regret saving me and our unborn baby.
Our wedding went ahead as planned. I put on the wedding dress I had always dreamed of, marrying the man I had been with for over five years. My heart full of joy at the thought of starting a new life—only to be met with a brutal awakening.
Kyle broke my legs. He ignored the blood staining my white dress, drove me to the spot where Lynn had jumped, and forced me to my knees to apologize to her.
But I truly didn’t know what I had done wrong.
Kyle was my fiancé, the father of my unborn child.
Why was it my fault that he chose to save me?
Kyle didn’t care.
His eyes were bloodshot, like a madman who had lost the love of his life: “The fire at home wasn’t even serious, Quinn. You deliberately distracted me so I couldn’t see her one last time!”
“If I hadn’t found Lynn’s diary, I would never have known what a vicious woman you are!”
“Her depression was your fault too. Lynn was so kind—why couldn’t it have been you?”
I had no idea what he was talking about.
But Kyle had truly lost his mind.
“Now you’ll know what it feels like to lose someone you care about!”
My cries of pain didn’t evoke an ounce of mercy from him.
He dragged me like a dead dog and locked me in a dark room.
I begged him to let me go, I demanded to know what our five years together had meant.
Kyle remained unmoved. He even poured gasoline inside the room.
My last memory was him looking down at me, as if I’m not his wife, but his mortal enemy.
He took out a lighter and ignited the gasoline—
“Thinking about these five years with a vicious woman like you makes me sick!”
“You like using fires to trick me into coming home? Then see how it feels to really burn to death!”
Burning to death was agony.
I still remember the pain searing into my bones.
And now, I was facing the same danger once again.
I thought not calling Kyle would prevent history from repeating the past.
But I never expected him to be this cruel—telling his teammates I was faking it.
A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, as if our child was reminding me how heartless this man truly was.
Kyle and I had been together for five years.
We bought this apartment two years ago as our future home.
Though it’s an old building with poor layout, I didn’t mind.
Kyle and I were just ordinary working-class people. Owning a home in the expensive city of Austin was already an achievement.
I lost my parents early and had always longed for a happy family.
In our most passsionate moment, Kyle had promised me countless times that he would make me happy, and I had believed him.
Every piece of furniture in this house was chosen by us together.
The flowers on the balcony were carefully tended by me.
I poured love into this place, turning it into the loving home I had always dreamed of.
But like the suddenly faulty wiring, the foundation of our relationship had long been compromised.
Beneath the surface of what I thought was a steady, quiet life, a catastrophe had been waiting to happen.
Calmly, I took out the photo album I had always treasured.
It held all the photos of Kyle and me from the past five years.
He had once joked that we should preserve this album carefully and show it to our children someday.
But now, in just seconds, the paper album turned to ash in the flames.
The fire grew fiercer. Flames licked across the wooden bedroom door, devoured the bed, and crawled up the curtains,—and then rushed toward me.
My only way out seemed to be the window.
I quickly climbed out.
Standing on the air conditioner unit, holding onto the scorching window frame, I knew the danger was far from over.
This was the fifth floor.
Not terribly high, but high enough. Pregnant and unbalanced, a fall could be fata.
A crowd had gathered below—neighbors from nearby, many of them are familiar.
Seeing me climb out, they grew anxious.
“Hold on tight! Don’t let go!”
“We’ve called the fire department!”
Even though many were merely acquaintances, they were genuinely concerned for my safety.
But Kyle, the man I’d share two thousand days and nights with me, could be so indifferent.
I smiled bitterly, once again realizing what it meant to trust the wrong person.
As more people called, Ryan finally sensed something was wrong.
One or two calls could still be dismissed as false reports or acting.
But with so many calls growing increasingly urgent, he began to doubt himself.
Almost all the team members had been taken by Kyle to save Lynn. Even if Ryan wanted to respond, he had no one to go with him.
The neighbors below waited, but no fire trucks arrived.
Meanwhile, I was swaying unsteadily upstairs.
The pain in my abdomen made me pale, and my body trembled uncontrollably.
Blisters had formed on my hands from the heat, making it hard to grip the railing.
Amid everyone’s screams, I could hold on no longer and fell backward…
In that hazy moment before the fall, I remembered the early days with Kyle.
We had met through a blind date and hit it off unexpectedly on our first meeting.
Neither of us liked spicy or strong flavors.
We both enjoyed movies and documentaries, and loved keeping plants and pets.
I had thought Kyle and I were a perfect match, and I naively believed he felt the same.
After all, he was considerate, and he even swore before my deceased parents’ graves that he would treat me well for the rest of my life.
I never imagined there was someone else in Kyle’s heart.
Everyone said Kyle adored me, and I foolishly believed it.
Until Lynn, Kyle’s first love, returned from abroad.
Late one stormy night, she called Kyle after he had already gone to bed. He ignored my pleas, threw on his clothes and rushed out.
Perhaps that was when I should have realized how important Lynn was to Kyle.
Instead, I softened at his explanation that she suffered from depression and he was her only support.
But Lynn could have sought help from doctors or medication—what was she doing seeking out someone else’s fiancé?
And always in the middle of the night, alone with him—I refused to believe she had no ulterior motives.
Lynn even added me as a friend at Kyle’s suggestion.
The two of them became increasingly self-righteous, claiming they were just friends and didn’t want me to misunderstand.
But the “innocent and kind” Lynn often “accidentally” sent me ambiguous photos.
Sometimes it was a screenshot of them watching a movie together.
Sometimes it was Kyle cooking for her.
Other times, it was Kyle asleep, exhausted, with their hands intertwined.
These provocative photos led to countless arguments between Kyle and me.
But every time, he would just rub his temples tiredly, as if I were making a fuss: “Quinn, I’m exhausted.”
“I just don’t want Lynn to hurt herself. There’s really nothing between us.”
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