His Turn to Take the Boulder
In my past life, I took a falling boulder for my team leader, Cole. It cost me my left leg, dragging me from the world's summit down into a wheelchair, where I could only gaze up at the sky.
He married me out of guilt, giving me a decade of material comfort but nothing more than a polite, suffocating distance.
It wasn't until I was on my deathbed that I discovered he’d tossed all 199 Polaroids I’d taken of him—each one a memory of my love—into a dusty corner. Meanwhile, a photo of another woman was framed and locked away in his safe.
As my life slipped away, all I received from him was cold indifference. The last words he ever said to me were, "Next time, don't shove that boulder aside for me."
Only then did I understand: he would rather have died than be shackled to me by a life debt.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back before it all went wrong. Fate had given me a second chance.
This time, I would sever this cursed tie between us for good.
But when the boulders came crashing down again, he was the one who shoved me out of the way.
"This time, it's my turn to protect you."