Chapter 1

On our wedding anniversary, I put on lingerie and waited for Ethan to come home.

I waited from morning until late at night, until a news notification popped up.

"Movie star Ethan Lucas found dead after jumping from hotel rooftop, confirmed to be a suicide for love following actress Stella Summers."

"Last words: 'My greatest regret in this life is not being with Stella. If there's a next life, I will definitely marry Stella.'"

Not a single word about me.

Later, fans said I drove the Best Actor to his death.

They blocked my door and threw red paint. They shoved me. They cursed at me.

I was pushed down the steps and hit my head on the stone slab.

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in the dressing room backstage at a film festival.

In the mirror was my twenty-five-year-old self, having just won Best Screenwriter.

My eyes reddened.

In this life, I would live for myself.

The door was pushed open.

Ethan Lucas stood before me in the dark suit he'd worn to accept his award. Twenty-six years old, with features so handsome they were almost sharp.

His expression softened slightly when he saw me, and a smile touched his lips.

"Evelyn, congratulations. You won Best Screenwriter."

I nodded slightly.

"Why don't you come in and sit?"

"No, I'm in a hurry."

He froze for a moment.

In my past life, I never refused him, even when he called at 3 AM demanding I revise the seventeenth draft.

"Then I'll come out to talk to you."

He stepped forward and deliberately lowered his voice.

"I know you also remember our past life."

Wind swept in from the end of the corridor. I didn't respond.

"This lifetime will be different. Everything I owed you, I'll make up for it all."

When he said this, there was light in his eyes, so sincere you'd almost believe him.

But I remembered that in our past life, he'd said similar things during our first year of marriage.

"I can't focus on filming when you're not with me," so I gave up that international co-production project and flew with him to Vancouver.

Only later did I learn he didn't need my company. He needed me to free up my hands to help Stella revise that scene she could never get right.

"Thank you for the kind thought, but it's not necessary."

I took half a step back.

At that moment, the sound of high heels clicking on the floor came from inside the lounge, and Stella Summers walked out.

As soon as she saw me, she smiled and opened her arms wide.

"Evelyn!"

The hug was perfectly measured, and when she released me, she naturally hooked her arm through mine.

"Your acceptance speech was amazing! I was watching the livestream inside and cried so hard my makeup ran, you know?"

"That monologue from the female lead was written like it was custom-made for me. If I could ever play one of your characters someday, my life would be complete."

The exact same lines.

In my past life, she'd said the same thing, and then I spent fifty years creating over a dozen roles custom-tailored for her. She put her name on them and won two Best Actress awards.

Right up until I died, everyone in the industry thought those works came from Stella Summers's hand.

"Stella, you're very talented. You don't need my scripts to win awards."

I pulled my arm free.

Stella's smile froze for half a beat.

She quickly glanced at Ethan, and her voice grew even softer.

"Evelyn is too modest. Ethan said so too--he wants you to write his next project. The three of us working together would be perfect."

When she said this, she placed herself and Ethan side by side in the front, with me as the attached third party.

The best positions were always theirs. I was just a bonus item.

"We'll talk about it later. I'm leaving now."

I turned and walked toward the other end of the corridor.

Silence followed for a few seconds.

Then Stella's voice came through, lowered.

"What's wrong with her? Does she also remember the past life?"

Ethan's tone was light, as if amused.

"It's nothing. She won't go far. She never goes far."