I Let Her Ruin Herself Chapter 04
After Hannah left, I lay in the hospital bed and replayed the most important events of my last life.
If I was really starting over, I would use what I knew to give my parents—and the people who actually cared about me—a better life.
Mom watched me for a moment.
“Who was that girl?”
“A classmate.”
“Just a classmate?”
Mom had never been one to beat around the bush. For the last eighteen years, the only girl who had ever been in my orbit was Taylor.
Both our families could see I liked her, and Taylor knew it too.
I had confessed to her once. She’d always said high school was for focusing on grades, that she didn’t want to date.
In my last life, after I was hurt, I figured I could never give her a normal life. I buried my feelings and never brought them up again. I just stayed by her side, handling everything from her first audition on.
I mistook my devotion for love. She treated it like a blank check.
Mom had clearly noticed that when I got sick this time, I hadn’t called Taylor. I’d called another girl.
“Mom, there’s nothing between me and Taylor,” I said. “She likes someone else. Please don’t joke about us anymore.”
Mom paused, then shrugged.
“Okay. You’re eighteen. Whatever makes you happy.”
I watched her straighten my blanket, the memory of my last life’s end sharp in my mind.
After I was injured, Mom spent the whole night crying in the hospital hallway. Within a few months, her hair was streaked with white.
After I died, my consciousness lingered for a while. I saw my parents try to confront Taylor, only to be shoved back by her security. Her fans found our address, dumped trash on our lawn, rang the doorbell at all hours, and sent my parents death threats.
My dad had a heart attack during one of those confrontations and died before the ambulance could get there.
Mom lost her husband and son at nearly the same time. She stayed in that empty house for a while, but eventually, she lit a match in the garage.
This time, I would make sure my parents grew old safely. I wouldn’t let someone else’s disaster cross our threshold again.