Chapter 1: Borrowed Skin, Broken Promises

They say lightning never strikes twice, but here we are—Derek and I, waking up in borrowed skin, handed a second shot at life.

If I’m honest, it’s still strange—like tuning in to your favorite station and realizing the lyrics are all wrong—familiar, but not quite home. In our old lives, we were Savannah’s golden couple, a match as seamless as a jazz duet on a sultry night. We’d walk into The Pink House on River Street, the sweet scent of pralines in the air, and folks would greet us like we owned the place. Looking back, my life felt wrapped in the golden hush of southern evenings and the safe warmth of family pride.

My husband treated me with all the respect in the world. Our oldest son became a state senator; our daughter married into power and rose up as the governor’s wife. I was honored by the mayor at City Hall—a ceremony reserved for the most accomplished women in the state. Standing there, with city dignitaries lining the marble steps and the old flag snapping in the breeze, I finally felt like I’d arrived.

Now here I am, reborn once again.

Derek’s still that distant, silver-touched man—like the bright moon over the river, admired but untouchable. But I’m not that starry-eyed girl anymore. I’m done exhausting myself to please him. I’m done trying to win him over. My bones ache with the memory of every smile I forced, every hope I swallowed down. I’ve seen enough to know what wears a woman thin, and that kind of hope does.

Derek and I—

In this life, we shouldn’t cross paths again. Let distance and time keep us apart. I’ve earned my peace, and I’m not giving it up for anyone—not even him.