After Reincarnation, I Changed My Boyfriend

I found myself reborn to the time before Jason lost his memory.

In my past life, his love for me had bordered on obsession.

Yet now, he stood at the very spot where he'd once proposed to me, draping the scarf I'd knitted for him around another woman's neck.

Suddenly, I didn't want him anymore.

Later, when he discovered he'd been just a replacement, he begged me with red-rimmed eyes not to leave.

But there was always a second chance.

1

I'd been grateful for this second chance at life.

Until I saw the man I'd loved for over a decade standing at our proposal spot, confessing his feelings for another girl with the same tenderness he'd once shown me.

I began to ponder over a question. What was the point of this rebirth?

The sea wind howled as crashing waves resurrected my long-buried fears.

In the distance, Jason Brown gazed at the girl before him with that familiar hopeful hesitation - the same look he'd worn when proposing to me.

Different from what happened in my previous life, I wasn't the one standing there.

He carefully adjusted the scarf around Sheri Scott's neck.

The Scarf was something that I'd spent months knitting for him.

Though I couldn't hear their words, Jason's radiant smile spoke volumes.

He looked truly happy.

Yet in my past life, this moment had belonged to us.

Salt spray stung my cheeks as the wind tangled my hair.

My eyes burned unexpectedly - I'd thought I was done crying.

This was cruelty perfected for me.

In front of me, it was the scene that my greatest love abandoned me again; behind me was the cliff, where I took a step back meant death.

A wave of nausea forced me back; I turned to leave.

Only one thought remained in my mind. "Jason, I don't want you anymore."

2

Back home, the familiar rooms felt alien as I packed.

The wardrobe gaped empty where his clothes had been.

How long until he noticed I'd left?

Probably weeks, or maybe months.

He rarely visited anymore.

So why had he even kept this place for me?

I'd refused to see it as charity before, but the truth was undeniable now.

"Debbie, is that apartment still available?"

On the other end of the phone, my best friend Debbie Wall hesitated before cautiously asking, "Did you break up?"

"Yes."

Her voice softened with concern, "No regrets?"

"None."

Fortunately, the apartment was still free.

My savings would still keep me off the streets.

For me, it was a proof I didn't need Jason's pity to survive.

He discovered my absence a week later.

Right on schedule for his monthly "check-in."

My phone lit up with his fury, "When did you move out, Abia? Do you plan to live in the slum? What the hell are you thinking exactly? Just answer the phone!"

Knowing him for so many years, I could practically see his enraged scowl.

Letting out a soft sigh, I typed, ignoring his constant messages. "We're done."

Then I severed all connections.

Two lifetimes of devotion had proven more than sufficient.

3

A child starved for affection learned to mistake breadcrumbs for banquets.

Though love's nature eluded me, yet I earnestly devoted myself to him for two lifetimes.

The table was littered with beer bottles, and the bitter tang of beer clung to my tongue as empty bottles bore witness to my newfound clarity triggered by alcohol.

The signs had been present all along.

His indifference in this life should have come as no surprise.

In my past life, Sheri had never shown up.

Jason would wait patiently each evening to escort me home.

Our instructor's strictness ensured we lingered ten minutes beyond his class's dismissal

Allegedly, this arrangement was to avoid the stairwell's press of bodies.

Though I protested the inconvenience, he would insist, like a loyal knight to his queen. "No young woman should walk unaccompanied." he said.

Thus, he continued our ritual for three full years.

But in this life, Sheri became the object of his protective instincts. Even though they took different routes home.

During the most harrowing period of senior year, when the vicinity around the school turned into a rather perilous zone, students had to be extra cautious.

I was scared, worrying about my safety.

I begged Jason to walk home with me, but my requests for accompaniment met only with vague dismissals. "Pressing engagement." he said.

That day, I followed him like a shadow, hoping he would walk me home like he did in my past life.

But his back remained turned.

The vocational school girls found me alone. For them, I was an easy target to rob.

They demanded my meager lunch money which I refused.

Those coins represented my next meal. So I would never give in.

They beat me and pulled my hair hard.

Through the pain, one thought persisted. If only Jason were here...

I clung to my money, silently chanting his name, but this world's Jason never came.

In the end, I was battered and bereft.

As I limped toward home, I turned a corner to behold Jason walking Sheri home, their laughter floating in the evening air.

That moment, I trembled, feeling the anguish in my soul eclipsed all physical wounds.

So, the pressing engagement had been her all along.

Later, he explained he had just run into her and decided to walk her home. It was just a coincidence.

The true tragedy lay in my willingness to believe him.

4

The hangover arrived right on schedule, a hammer pounding against my temples.

I stirred on the sofa, the persistent doorbell slicing through my groggy consciousness.

Every movement felt leaden as I dragged myself to the door- only to find Jason standing there, his usual polished appearance replaced by dark circles and rumpled clothes.

My hand flew to slam the door, but he was quicker, his strength effortlessly overpowering mine.

He stormed in, words tumbling out in a frantic cascade. "Why did you leave? Why are you ignoring me?"

My throbbing head made diplomacy impossible.

"I saw you at the beach with Sheri."

"Abia, it's not what you think..."

Jason's face was slightly unnatural, and I interrupted his explanation.

"Save it." I cut him off, watching his face twitch. "I know everything. Just leave."

Jason ignored me and forced his way in. I couldn't stop him.

He saw the beer bottles on the living room table, his face darkened immediately, and his tone grew cold, "Abia, didn't I tell you not to drink?"

I glanced at him indifferently, "We've broken up. You have no right to judge."

When brute force failed, he switched tactics, his voice dipping into that coaxing tone that used to melt my resistance.

Softening his tone, he pleaded, "Abia, come back with me. Stop this nonsense."

The endearment curdled in my stomach. He still thought this was some childish tantrum.

"Come back with you?" I laughed bitterly. "You mean your charity project?"

The carefully constructed calm on his face shattered.

Without another word, he marched to the kitchen and began rattling the pan, making a fried egg for me like nothing had changed.

If I hadn't seen him with Sheri at the beach with my own eyes, perhaps I would have forgiven him again.

The nausea hit like a freight train.

I barely made it to the bathroom before collapsing to the tiles, retching until my ribs ached.

Jason appeared instantly, panic tightening his features as he pressed medicine into my trembling hand.

He helped me to the room and fed me the medicine.

Just as he was doing so, the ringtone cut through the moment.

We both froze for a moment.

I clearly knew that saccharine melody was the one he'd assigned to Sheri's number.

He thought I didn't know, but I had already noticed.

Every time that ringtone played, Jason's face lit up with undisguised joy.

He didn't realize it, but each time I saw it, it broke my heart.

He hesitated for just a second before abandoning me mid-dose to take the call.

Sheri's tearful voice resounded through the receiver.

It was some fuss about getting a slip.

From Jason's reaction, Sheri had tumbled off a cliff.

Jason's face grew even more frantic.

After hanging up, he hurriedly grabbed his clothes and prepared to leave.

"Stay with me," I whispered as he grabbed his jacket. "And I'll come back."

He hesitated for a moment, then left without looking back.

As he left, he said, "I'll come to pick you up tomorrow."

I was still not as important as her. Even if I was in excruciating pain, he wouldn't stay.

After he left, I took the medicine myself.

It contained some sleeping ingredients, and I felt myself drifting off.

I gave him another chance, but once again, he chose others instead of me.

Tears fell violently; it must be the side effect of the medicine.

5

Sleep came heavy and dream-laden, dragging me back to a dilemma that I was abandoned.

In high school, during the sports meet, Jason and I represented our respective classes in the competition.

That was when the accident happened.

A piece of old sports equipment fell backstage, right where Jason and I were standing.

The equipment crash replayed in vivid detail. My forceful shove sent Jason staggering backward. His immediate and reflexive protection of Sheri was evident, but at the same time, I felt a crushing weight on my legs, as if something heavy had pinned me down.

Sheri was also hit lightly.

I looked at my swollen leg and bleeding arm, crying out Jason's name with concern.

But when I looked up at him, he was already carrying Sheri to the infirmary, never once glancing at me.

He left me with just his back.

I was in so much pain that I almost fainted.

My classmates quickly took me to the hospital. I'd always been careful about my health, but at that moment, the pain shot through every nerve in my body like an electric shock, rendering me unable to even utter a sound.

I still remembered staring at the ceiling through pain-hazed eyes, while my uncle's family complained about the money I was costing them.

But I had to tolerate it; I was dependent on someone else's generosity.

Coincidentally, Sheri and I shared a hospital room, and what she heard was, "We will find the best doctors; there won't be any scars. Don't worry."

At that time, sleepless nights due to pain were common for me, and every time I woke up in pain, I saw Jason and Sheri's parents gathered around her bed.

Yet I had nothing and nobody.

Jason thought he'd hidden it well, but I'd seen everything - the way his gaze lingered on Sheri, the secret smiles they exchanged when they thought no one was looking.

His explanation later? "We're classmates. I couldn't just abandon her."

In my previous lifetime, it had been me he shielded from falling debris, me he stayed with through every painful night in the hospital.

This Jason was a stranger wearing a familiar face. Where my Jason had always put me first, this one...

Whenever Sheri entered the equation, I became disposable.

Why had I kept believing in him? Maybe some stubborn part of me kept seeing the ghost of the man I'd loved in another life.

But ghosts didn't breathe. Ghosts didn't love.

A sob escaped my sleeping lips. Pathetic - that's what I was. Pathetic and foolish.

This second chance at life felt more like a punishment.

6

Jason had promised to come today.

The sun dipped below the horizon without any sign of him.

At least I hadn't waited by the window like some lovesick fool.

Hunger eventually drove me to the kitchen, where I stared blankly at ingredients.

The finished dish looked wrong somehow. "This doesn't suit my taste," I muttered to the empty apartment.

The food hit the trash with a satisfying thud. The second attempt fared better.

My grandma's recipes floated through my mind - precise measurements, the exact moment to add seasoning.

And I made it.

Not perfect, but edible. As I ate, her voice echoed, "Your mother loved this dish." And she added, "It's also my favorite!"

As I ate, tears plopped into the dish.

What I didn't tell Judy was, "Actually, I like this dish too."

But back then, I'd been too busy molding myself around Jason's preferences to remember my own.

Even something as simple as food had become about pleasing him.

If I could rebirth further back, I'd walk right past Jason without a second glance.

Debbie's birthday invitation arrived as I washed dishes.

Unexpectedly, at the party, I saw Jason, whom I hadn't seen for two days.

With Sheri, lively and energetic, of course.

I laughed; wasn't she injured?

The entire room stiffened when I walked in.

Everyone knew the history between Jason and me.

Jason's guilty flinch when he saw me would've been satisfying if it didn't hurt so much.

His reaching hand met only air as I sidestepped him.

My gaze zeroed in on the band-aid gracing Sheri's perfectly intact leg.

This was her life-threatening injury? Seriously?

"Recovered already?" My voice dripped honeyed venom of irony.

Before Sheri could respond, Jason jumped to her defense before she could speak. "She was really hurt, Abia. Don't be cruel."

His reproachful words made the party's chatter die completely.

I pointed to the fresh love bite peeking above his collar. "Maybe cover that first before playing white knight?"

His face flushed crimson as he fumbled for words, reaching for me again.

"Abia, it's not what you think..."

I moved away from him, heading to an empty seat nearby, "Why should I care?"

Sheri remained silent.

As I shot a gaze at her, her expression flickered with something almost like shame.

Eventually, Debbie swooped in with forced cheer, redirecting attention to cake and presents.

Knowing I didn't like the hustle and bustle, she took me to a quiet corner, letting me enjoy the serenity.

As I was drinking, a voice came from above, "Long time no see, Abia."

Hearing my name, I looked up and saw an unfamiliar face that yet somewhat brought up some of my memories.