Chapter 1: Confessions and Consequences

After I confessed my feelings to my family friend—Uncle Derek—he brought me into the living room, where a girl sat in a wheelchair. My heart pounded so loud it drowned out the quiet hum of the AC. Derek’s hand hovered, protective and tense, behind her chair. The faint scent of his aftershave mixed with the new carpet, and I caught the subtle way his shoulders tensed—his tell whenever he was uncomfortable, though he tried to hide it.

Her name was Natalie Foster, and she was the woman he would soon call his partner.

Natalie introduced herself softly, her voice gentle. She offered me a shy smile, but the contrast between her delicate vulnerability and the solid certainty in Derek’s eyes rattled me. Everyone in our world knew the Fosters—old money, endless fundraisers, and parties where laughter always felt a little forced. But seeing Natalie here was surreal, like I’d stumbled into someone else’s dream.

Derek explained, voice low and a bit mechanical, that Natalie lost her legs—and her future—saving him. He said he had to take responsibility, the words falling out like something he’d practiced in front of a mirror. I glanced at the gold watch on his wrist—my father’s graduation gift to him—and wondered if he wore it as armor. Responsibility. The word filled the room, thicker than the silence that followed.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.

Does saving someone’s life really mean you owe them marriage?

The question hung between us, ignored like a mess in the corner no one wanted to clean up. Sure, Americans believe in gratitude, but this was different—like a debt that could never be settled. Was Derek hiding behind duty, or just running from his heart?

He didn’t answer. He stared at the floor, jaw tight, letting the silence stretch between us like the distance between two coasts. Maybe he thought I was too young to get it, or maybe he didn’t know himself.

In my first life, I refused to believe Derek didn’t love me. I kept pushing, always hoping he’d break.

Sometimes I’d drive past his office late at night, just to see if the lights were on. I’d text him dumb jokes, pretending I just wanted to hear him laugh, but deep down I was chasing a feeling that was always just out of reach.

Until the night I watched him stand by as his subordinate broke my ten fingers, one by one. He listened to my screams, never flinching.

I remembered the fluorescent lights in the basement, the cold tile pressed to my cheek, the way he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Even now, my hands ached with phantom pain. The world faded gray, like winter after the first snow—quiet, numb, endless.

That’s when my heart truly broke.

The sound of my sobbing bounced off the walls. The pain wasn’t just in my body—it was the death of every hope, every fantasy. He was already gone, and I hadn’t even realized.

Later, my injuries were so bad I couldn’t stand in the OR anymore. Eventually, I gave up and slit my wrists.

I remembered the hospital after visiting hours: the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, antiseptic stinging my nose, the nurse calling me ‘sweetheart’ as she bandaged my wrists. But it was too late—the loneliness had already sunk into my bones, and my world slipped away.

When I woke up again—

Sunlight spilled through the curtains, as if the universe had hit reset. My breath fogged the windowpane. For a moment, I wondered if I’d only dreamed the pain. But I knew better. This was my second chance.

I remembered everything from before—the heartbreak, the basement, the way Derek never chose me. But this time, I was determined to rewrite my story.

I submitted my application to Doctors Without Borders without hesitation.

There was no time to second-guess myself. I remembered my parents’ stories—deserts, jungle outposts, laughter over canned beans at midnight. It felt right, like I was finally stepping toward their legacy.

Maybe I couldn’t fix the past, but I could still honor them by choosing my own path.

I stepped away from my role as the little niece.

My old self clung to Derek’s shadow, desperate for scraps of affection. But now, the world was opening up beyond his walls. My future was finally mine.