The bomb disposal mission went south. Marcus, my husband and fellow EOD specialist, ripped the only blast shield right out of my hands and handed it to his first love, Skylar. I grabbed his arm, pleading desperately. But he just shoved me away. “You’re so selfish! You’ve got that revive system—what do you need a blast shield for?” “Skylar’s fragile, she can’t handle any impact. She needs both blast shields to be safe!” He had no idea. The system only gave me two revival charges. One, I’d used to save Skylar when I couldn’t say no to his begging. The other, I’d used last year to save him when he was dying on a mission. Today, I’m really going to die. When the bomb went off, the whole room went up in flames. The fire swallowed me instantly. The last thing I saw was Marcus using my blast shield to shield Skylar like his life depended on it. When I came to, I was a ghost, following Marcus around. He was holding Skylar’s hand—only slightly singed by the fire—blowing on it softly. “Skylar, your hand’s all red. We need to get you to the ER right now.” Hearing that, my chest burned like acid was eating through it—bitter, unbearable. Anyone watching would think they were deeply in love, that their bond was unbreakable. But this man was my husband of three years. He’d never looked at me with that kind of worry before. Skylar’s palm had a faint red mark, barely noticeable, but Marcus was panicking over it. Meanwhile, when I was burning alive, he didn’t even spare me a glance. Skylar looked spooked, her thin shoulders shaking a little. “Marcus, it’s just a scratch, I’m fine. Thank god you were there—otherwise I’d be in way worse shape.” “Scratch? What if there’s internal damage? I’m not leaving until a doctor clears you.” He grabbed Skylar’s hand and rushed out, his normally calm face tight with worry. Before they got in the car, our colleague Chloe stopped him, frowning. “Marcus, Rory never made it out of the site. Did something happen to her in the blast?” When he heard my name, Marcus’s face twisted in disgust. “What could happen to her? Selfish people like that value their own skin too much—she’s probably hiding somewhere.” “Move. Skylar can’t wait.” From the second the bomb went off until now, Marcus hadn’t asked a single thing about whether I was alive. Even when others worried about me, he still had to put me down. As his wife, I was nothing but a disappointment to him. Marcus shoved Chloe aside, ignoring the shouts behind him, and drove Skylar straight to the ER. The exam showed Skylar was totally fine—just a tiny red mark on her hand. But Marcus acted like she’d been stabbed, insisting the doctors wrap it up. Skylar looked at him with tears in her eyes. “Marcus, you still care so much about me.” Then she hesitated, softening her voice. “Is Rory okay without the blast shield? She did come to save me… if something happened to her, I’d feel awful.” Marcus waved her off. “Rory’s got that weird ability—she can’t die. You’re fragile, you can’t take any hits.” “She even tried grabbing the blast shield earlier, saying she’d die this time. So selfish. She’s got that ability to protect herself, but she tried lying to me. Probably just jealous I care about you so much. When she gets back, I’m gonna give her a piece of my mind!” By the end, Marcus looked furious—like I’d done something unforgivable. But I just wanted to live. And I wasn’t lying. That ability only gave me two shots, and I’d already used them both.
I wasn’t from this world. My mission was to marry Marcus. When we met, we were both new EOD techs. Back then, his girlfriend Skylar had gone overseas and dumped him. Marcus was a mess, and I was the one who helped him pull through. Three years later, we got married naturally, and my mission was done. As a reward, I got two revival chances and could stay in this world. By then, I’d actually fallen in love with Marcus. I thought spouses should be honest, so I told him everything—no secrets. I even joked, “No matter what happens, I can’t die. I’ll stay with you forever.” I never thought those words would be my death warrant. Not long after we married, Skylar came back. She cried a little in front of Marcus, saying her parents made her go overseas—she had no choice. Marcus bought it hook, line, and sinker. Like he forgot all the pain Skylar put him through. He started doting on her again—checking in on her every second. Then, when Skylar got into a car crash and was on death’s door, he begged me—pleaded— to use one of my chances to save her. Watching Marcus cry his eyes out, my chest hurt like hell. My husband was sobbing over another woman. How could I not be hurt? Not be furious? But I loved him. I couldn’t say no. So I used my first chance. Last year, after Marcus disarmed a bomb, the bad guys ambushed him—shot him right through the heart. The doctors said he was gone before he hit the ground. I couldn’t let him die. I didn’t hesitate to use my last chance on him. Before I activated the ability, that voice kept asking: “This is your last chance. Do you regret it?” I said, “No regrets.” After that, the voice disappeared. Back then, I thought Marcus’s thing for Skylar was just a phase. That with time, he’d come back to his senses and focus on us. I really thought we’d grow old together. But now, reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Marcus had always loved Skylar. And me? I was just fooling myself.
Skylar looked at Marcus, like she wanted to say something but held back—her long lashes fluttering. Marcus booped her forehead gently. “Skylar, you can tell me anything.” Skylar twisted the hem of her shirt, then took a breath. “Marcus, Rory’s the best EOD tech on the team. And with you helping her… how did the bomb go off so suddenly? Could it be…” She didn’t finish the thought, leaving it hanging—open to all kinds of assumptions. I was so angry I could’ve screamed. My hands balled into fists, and I wanted to slap her stupid. I was already dead, and she still wouldn’t leave me alone—trying to make Marcus think I was a monster. As a cop, I knew my job. I never let personal stuff get in the way of work. After six years working together, I thought Marcus would at least know who I was. But Marcus’s next words crushed that hope. “I knew it! The defusal was going fine—how else would it blow? That psycho Rory must’ve messed it up to hurt you! I’m gonna report her to Internal Affairs! She doesn’t deserve to wear a badge!” Marcus’s face was red with rage. If I were there right then, he’d probably slap me and call me every name in the book. All I felt now was bitter. Did I think I mattered more to him than I did? Or was Skylar just so important that he’d believe anything she said? Probably both. Six years together, and I couldn’t get an ounce of his trust. Now, in his eyes, I was just some terrible person. I still remembered our wedding vows. He said, “You’re not just my wife—you’re my partner. I’ll always trust you.” Now, one little comment from Skylar, and he forgot every word. I wondered—would he regret this when he found out I was dead? Marcus paced back and forth, all worked up, like he needed to punch something. He pulled out his phone and texted me: “Rory, you tampered with that bomb? I’ll make you pay for this!” “Don’t think I don’t know you can’t die—answer me right now!” Marcus stared at his phone. One minute, two minutes… no reply. Normally, I’d text him back immediately. Marcus’s chest heaved. “Fine—playing dead, huh? We’ll see about that!” He called a colleague at the scene. Before the guy could even say hello, Marcus snapped: “Tell Rory I know what she did! She’s getting written up!” The voice on the other end sounded worried. “Marcus, Rory never came out! The fire’s still going—we can’t get in. She might actually be…” Marcus scoffed. “She’s not dead. She’s just hiding ‘cause she’s scared of getting caught! Tell her that trick won’t work—she almost killed Skylar, and I’m not letting this slide!” He hung up angrily, muttering under his breath. Skylar’s eyes lit up for a second—like she was pleased—but then she softened. “Marcus, women get jealous sometimes. Rory probably just made a mistake. Let it go.” Marcus frowned. “Let it go? After your car accident, you’re still fragile. If it weren’t for the blast shield, you’d be dead! I’m not letting her get away with this!” Skylar hugged him tight, like they’d just survived something terrible.
When they left the hospital, Marcus used Skylar’s ‘injury’ as an excuse to take her straight to our house. As soon as she walked in, Skylar grabbed a pair of slippers like she owned the place—and even found the TV remote right away. She moved like she’d been here a hundred times—meaning Marcus had brought her over before. Marcus went into the kitchen to cook, rambling about Skylar’s favorite foods. In three years of marriage, he never cooked for me. Said he didn’t know how. I never minded—I did all the cooking anyway. Turns out, he just didn’t want to cook for me. Skylar smiled at him softly. “Marcus, I’ve missed your cooking so much.” During dinner, Marcus’s phone rang. It was Chloe—crying so hard she could barely speak. “Marcus, get here… Rory’s… she’s gone.” Marcus rolled his eyes. “Chloe, I know you’re Rory’s friend, but this is ridiculous. She can’t die—stop helping her lie.” Chloe paused, then sobbed louder. “Marcus, I’m not lying—Rory—” Marcus hung up before she could finish. “Rory’s taking this too far! Using death as an excuse? Unbelievable!” “Even if something happened, she can just revive herself! How could she die?” Skylar nodded. “She’s just jealous. I get it—women can be like that. Don’t stress.” Marcus slammed his fork down. “If she doesn’t apologize to you properly when she gets back? We’re getting divorced!” My chest felt tight—like I couldn’t breathe. When I begged him not to take the blast shield, I told him I only had two chances left. But he didn’t believe me. Thought I was just jealous of Skylar. Even when someone told him I was dead, he called it a lie—and threatened divorce. But that trick was done. After dinner, Skylar went straight to my bedroom—my and Marcus’s bed. The air felt thick, and they leaned closer… I wanted to run, but something kept me there—like I was glued to the spot. Right before their lips touched, Marcus jumped up. He forced a smile. “Skylar, your hand’s hurt. You should rest.” Then he practically ran to the guest room. I was confused. Wasn’t this what he wanted? The next morning, Marcus made a huge breakfast, left a note with instructions, and headed out like nothing was wrong. At the precinct, everyone looked at him like he was broken. He stopped a coworker. “What’s going on?” Before the guy could answer, Chief Miller called him over. Marcus frowned. “Chief? What’s up?” Chief Miller clapped him on the shoulder and led him to the morgue. “Marcus… I’m sorry.” Marcus laughed nervously. “Sorry for what? My family’s fine.” The Chief sighed. “The bomb yesterday… Rory didn’t make it. She’s in there.” Marcus’s smile froze. “Chief, that’s not funny. Rory caused the explosion—she can’t die. She’s just hiding.” The Chief’s face hardened. “Marcus! Rory was your wife—and a good cop! Don’t say that about her!” “Her body’s in there. DNA confirmed it. If you don’t believe me, see for yourself.” Marcus’s throat went dry. He stepped forward, but his voice shook. “Fine—I’ll see. It’s a trick. Rory’s just messing with us.” His hand hovered over the white sheet, trembling like a leaf. Slowly, he pulled it back…
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