The chapel smelled like lilies.
I didn't even like lilies.
They were Lila's favorite flowers. Not mine.
But of course, here they were—scattered in white, cream, and pastel pink all over the pews, stuffed into silver vases like some Pinterest funeral board come to life.
They didn't bury me in the dress I would've chosen.
They didn't use the song I would've wanted.
They didn't even try to get it right.
I sat in the very back, watching it all unfold like it was someone else's life—someone else's death.
And in the front row, sitting straight and still like guilt didn't live inside his chest, was Jason.
My fiancé.
And beside him… Lila.
Wearing the necklace that Jason gave me for my birthday.
Lila leaned into him, whispered something that made him chuckle under his breath. She looked too bright in her lemon-colored dress, her lips painted too pink, her posture too alive.
She didn't look like someone who lost her best friend.
She looked like someone who'd won.
There were signs, but I kept explaining them away—like a fool trying to unsee the obvious.
Jason started working late.
Late turned into whole nights out.
Whole nights out turned into silence when I asked, "Where were you?"
One night, I was in the kitchen making tea when his phone buzzed.
I wasn't snooping.
I was just… curious.
The contact name said: "My little girl" with a heart emoji.
I froze. I knew I wasn't saved as that. Jason wasn't the type to use pet names.
At least not with me.
I stared at the screen, the buzzing in my hand louder than the one from the kettle.
Against every instinct I had, I answered.
"Hello?"
A pause. Then a voice, soft and babyish, too sweet to be real. "Jason? You're calling me back already?"
Silence on my end. I didn't breathe. I couldn't.
"…Lila?"
Another pause.
Much longer than the last.
Then the line cut.
That was when the cracks became canyons.
He never explained the call.
I never asked.
Because somewhere deep down, I already knew.
The night of the crash, it was raining.
One of those rains that eats at your nerves, that turns headlights into ghosts and streets into slippery lies.
I didn't want to be there.
But Jason insisted. "It's just dinner," he said. "We all need to talk."
We.
He said "we" like we were a team again.
I was stupid enough to say yes.
I sat in the back seat.
Jason drove.
Lila sat beside him, front seat like she belonged therShe laughed at something he said.
I didn't even catch it—I was too busy listening to the sound of my own heart shrinking.
She leaned forward to skip a song on the radio.
Her bracelet caught the light.
The one Jason gave me for Valentine's Day.
She didn't hide it. Didn't hesitate. She wore it like she earned it.
They started talking about some Italian place they went to recently.
Lila said, "Next time, we should order the tiramisu first—it's like dessert deserves its own night."
Jason laughed. "You just want an excuse to skip dinner."
"I don't need excuses, baby."
She said it so casually.
Like I wasn't even there.
Like I was just air in the back seat.
I swallowed hard. "You've been working a lot lately," I said quietly.
Jason glanced at me in the mirror, then away. "Yeah, you know how the job is."
Lila giggled. "He's always busy. Drives me crazy sometimes."
A pause.I looked at him but He didn't look back.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to shove her out of the car and yell at him until my voice cracked.
But I didn't.
I sat still. Because I already knew I'd lost him.
And I didn't want to lose my pride too.
Jason reached to turn up the music.
Then it happened. He didn't slow down enough at the curve. The tires skidded.
Lila screamed, "Jason—!"
There was a flash of headlights.
A sound like metal tearing through bone.
And then—
Darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in the chapel.
Back in my own body.
Alone.
I looked at the casket—the picture of me smiling like I hadn't spent my last few months silently drowning.
I looked at Jason, his arm around Lila's waist.
I looked at her wearing my necklace.
And I let the pain come. Let it hit me like waves I no longer had to hold back.
I was betrayed.
Left.
Erased.
And still—here I was.
Alive
I didn't know how or why I got this second chance.
But I knew what I was going to do with it
I whispered to the empty room, "I won't be the same Amira anymore. I'm moving forward. On my own terms."
No more forgiveness without respect. No more silence when I deserve to speak. No more settling for less than I am worth
This time, I'd let go.
This time, I'd live differently.
This time… I'd choose me