Marcus POV
I'm standing outside Library Room 204 with two minutes until 3 PM, and I'm sweating like I'm about to fight a war.
Because I am.
A war against my own stupid past. Against Rebecca's trap. Against every terrible choice I made the first time.
My hand shakes as I reach for the doorknob. Through the small window, I see her.
Aria Summers.
Twenty years old. Long black hair pulled into a simple ponytail. Bent over a finance textbook, completely focused. No makeup. Plain blue t-shirt. She doesn't know she's beautiful. Doesn't know that in another timeline, she becomes one of the most powerful women in the country.
Doesn't know I destroyed her.
I take a deep breath and open the door.
She looks up. Our eyes meet.
For one second, everything stops. Her honey-brown eyes widen slightly. Recognition flashes across her face—we went to the same high school for two years. But I was always with the popular crowd, and she was always alone in corners with books.
"Hi," I manage to say. "Is this the finance study group?"
"Yes." Her voice is soft but steady. Professional. She gestures to an empty chair across from her. "You're the first one to show up. I'm Aria Summers."
"Marcus Chen." I sit down, trying not to stare like a creep. "We went to the same high school."
Her expression shifts. Becomes more guarded. "I remember."
Of course she remembers. I never spoke to her once in two years. Walked past her like she was invisible. And at graduation, when she gathered all her courage to tell me she liked me, I laughed. Called her boring in front of my friends. Made her cry.
The memory makes me want to punch my younger self in the face.
"I was an idiot in high school," I say quickly. "A complete jerk, actually. I'm sorry."
Aria blinks, clearly surprised. "What?"
"I ignored you. Treated you like you didn't exist. That was wrong." The words tumble out. "You were—are—brilliant. I should have seen that. I was too stupid and shallow to notice."
She stares at me like I've grown three heads. "Are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head?"
Second person today to ask me that.
"No. I just... grew up. Realized some things." Like how I wasted twenty-four years married to a woman who let me die on the floor. "Can we start over? As study partners at least?"
Aria's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Why now? What changed?"
Everything. I died and came back. I have 100 days to fix my life. You're the only person who ever mattered, and I was too blind to see it.
But I can't say any of that.
"I saw your flyer," I say instead. "Advanced finance. That's my major too. I could use a good study partner. And honestly? You were the smartest person in high school. Everyone knew it. I was just too insecure to admit someone could be smarter than me."
Her face softens slightly. Just slightly. "That's... surprisingly honest."
"I'm trying to be a better person." The truest thing I've said in years.
She studies me for a long moment. Then nods once. "Okay. Fresh start. But if you're just here to waste my time or make fun of me later, leave now."
"I won't. I promise." I pull out my notebook. "So, what are we studying first?"
For the next ten minutes, we talk about investment strategies and market analysis. Aria is incredible—sharp, quick, seeing patterns I missed even with my future knowledge. She explains compound interest with such clarity that I actually understand it better than I did in my first life.
I'm so focused on her that I almost forget.
Almost.
At exactly 3:15 PM, movement outside the window catches my eye.
Rebecca Zhang walks past the library. Designer sundress. Perfect makeup. She's not alone—she's with her mother Linda, both carrying shopping bags. They're laughing about something.
In my first life, this is the moment that destroyed everything. Rebecca "accidentally" saw me through the window, came inside, pretended to recognize me from some class. Her mother acted so sweet, so impressed that I was studying hard. They invited me to dinner. One dinner became two. Two became ten. Then came the tears about being pregnant. The shotgun wedding. The twenty-four years of hell.
Rebecca's eyes scan the library windows. In seconds, she'll see me.
My chest tightens. The mysterious messenger's warning echoes: "What you do in that moment will determine everything."
I have three choices:
One—Let Rebecca see me. Let her come inside. Repeat the same nightmare.
Two—Duck down. Hide like a coward. But that means leaving Aria confused and probably thinking I'm insane.
Three—
Rebecca's eyes lock onto the window. She sees me.
Her predatory smile starts to form.
Then she sees Aria sitting across from me.
Rebecca's smile vanishes. Her eyes turn cold, calculating. She says something to her mother. Linda looks through the window too, evaluating.
I make my choice.
I reach across the table and gently touch Aria's hand where it rests on her textbook.
"Thank you," I say, loud enough that if Rebecca comes in, she'll hear. "For giving me a chance. This study session means a lot to me."
Aria's cheeks turn pink. She looks at my hand on hers, surprised but not pulling away.
Outside, Rebecca's face twists with anger. She grabs her mother's arm and pulls her away from the library, walking fast. They disappear around the corner.
I did it. I chose Aria over Rebecca. Publicly. Clearly.
The opposite of what I did before.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. My heart stops.
But I can't check it now—Aria is staring at our hands, her face bright red.
"Sorry." I pull my hand back quickly. "I just—thank you. Really."
"You're acting really strange, Marcus Chen," she says quietly. But she's smiling. Just a little. "But... you're welcome."
We study for another hour. Other students trickle in—three more people join the group. But I barely notice them. I'm hyperaware of Aria. The way she chews her bottom lip when concentrating. How her eyes light up when she explains something complex. The small smile when someone finally understands her teaching.
This is the woman I should have married.
At 4:30 PM, the study group ends. Students pack up their stuff. Aria carefully organizes her notes into color-coded folders.
"Same time next Saturday?" she asks, not quite meeting my eyes.
"I'll be here," I promise. "Can I... can I walk you back to your dorm?"
She hesitates. "I'm not going back yet. I have to meet someone at the coffee shop at 5 PM."
My stomach drops. "Who?"
"None of your business." But she's not being mean, just setting boundaries. "We just met today, Marcus. You don't get to know my whole schedule."
"Right. Of course. Sorry." I'm being too intense. Too desperate. I need to slow down.
But I have 99 days left. How can I slow down?
We walk out of the library together. The late afternoon sun makes everything golden. Students are everywhere, enjoying the weekend.
"See you next week," Aria says, adjusting her backpack.
"Wait." I don't know what makes me say it. "Be careful, okay? There are people on this campus who aren't what they seem. People who might try to use you."
Her eyebrows raise. "That's ominous. Any specific people I should watch out for?"
Rebecca. Rebecca's mother. Anyone who looks at you like you're a tool instead of a person.
"Just... trust your instincts," I say. "You're smart. If something feels wrong, it probably is."
Aria tilts her head, studying me with those intelligent eyes. "You really have changed, haven't you? The Marcus from high school would never say something like that."
"That Marcus was an idiot."
"Yeah," she agrees, but she's smiling. "He really was."
She walks away toward the coffee shop. I watch her go, memorizing the sight. In my first life, I never saw her again after graduation. She disappeared into success while I drowned in failure.
Not this time.
My phone buzzes. I finally check it.
Unknown number: "Well done. You passed the first test. But that was the easy part. Check your email. Now."
My hands shake as I open my ancient email app.
One new message. From an address that's just random numbers and letters.
The subject line makes my blood freeze:
"Rebecca's Real Plan - What She'll Do Next"
I click it open.
The email contains a single attached document. I download it.
It's a scan of handwritten notes. Rebecca's handwriting. Dated three months from now—September 2005.
My eyes scan the words, and my stomach turns to ice:
"Target: Marcus Chen. Scholarship student, traditional family, no connections. Perfect victim. Step 1: 'Accidental' meetings. Step 2: Crying about fake problems, make him feel needed. Step 3: Get pregnant (use Kevin's baby, Marcus won't know). Step 4: Force marriage. Step 5: Drain him dry for 20 years, then collect life insurance. Mother agrees this is the perfect plan. He'll never suspect..."
My vision blurs. This isn't just the future I remember.
This is proof that Rebecca planned my entire destruction from the beginning. Every tear was fake. Every "I love you" was a lie. The pregnancy wasn't an accident—it was a trap set months in advance.
But how does the mysterious messenger have this document? It's dated three months in the future. It doesn't exist yet.
Unless...
My phone buzzes again.
Unknown number: "She's writing those notes right now. In the coffee shop where Aria is heading. In exactly 10 minutes, Rebecca will 'accidentally' spill coffee on Aria's laptop. It will be destroyed. Aria will lose all her research for a major scholarship application. She'll be devastated."
No. No no no.
Another message: "You have 8 minutes to decide. Stop Rebecca and save Aria—but you'll have to explain how you knew. Or let it happen and comfort Aria after—earning her trust through sympathy. Choose."
I'm already running toward the coffee shop.
But one thought screams through my head:
How does the messenger know what's happening RIGHT NOW?
Who is watching us?
And why do I feel like I'm not just changing the past—I'm playing someone else's game?