They Regret Throwing Me Away

The dining room felt like a mausoleum as I descended the grand staircase, my heels clicking against marble with each measured step. The morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows cast everything in sharp relief—the gleaming mahogany table, the crystal chandelier, the three figures already seated in their usual positions.

Liam sat at the head of the table, his dark suit immaculate as always, fingers moving across his tablet screen with mechanical precision. Business reports, most likely. The same cold focus that had driven him to treat me like a commodity to be traded.

Rhett stood against the far wall, arms crossed, his military bearing rigid even at breakfast. His eyes tracked my movement as I entered, but there was something different in his gaze—something I couldn't quite place.

And Ava. Sweet, delicate Ava, perched in her chair like a porcelain doll, her golden hair catching the light as she dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

"Oh, Mia," she said, her voice trembling with practiced vulnerability. "I'm so glad you're here. I had the most terrible nightmare, and when I woke up, my favorite bracelet—the one Mother gave me—was missing from my jewelry box."

I slid into my seat across from her, watching her performance with detached fascination. How had I ever believed this act? Every gesture was calculated, from the way she let her lower lip quiver to how she positioned the handkerchief to catch the morning light.

"I'm sure it will turn up," I said evenly, reaching for the coffee pot.

Ava's eyes widened with hurt surprise. "But Mia, you were in my room yesterday evening, remember? When you borrowed my earrings for dinner?"

The implication hung in the air like poison gas. In my previous life, I would have immediately launched into frantic denials, desperate to prove my innocence. The accusation would have sent me into a spiral of anxiety and self-doubt.

Now, I simply poured my coffee and met her gaze steadily. "I remember borrowing earrings. I don't remember seeing your bracelet."

Liam's fingers paused on his tablet screen. The silence stretched taut as a wire.

"Well," Ava continued, her voice gaining that particular edge I remembered so well, "perhaps you could help me look for it later? I'm just so worried—"

"The staff will help you search," Liam interrupted, his tone clipped. "I'm sure it's simply misplaced."

I nearly choked on my coffee. In the original timeline, he had immediately ordered a search of my room, treating Ava's tearful accusations as gospel truth. The memory of that humiliation—servants rifling through my belongings while I stood there, powerless and ashamed—sent a wave of nausea through me.

But it wasn't fear making me sick now. It was the visceral memory of dying on this family's land, cast out like garbage while Ava's laughter echoed in my ears. The taste of dirt and blood in my mouth as my strength ebbed away, alone and abandoned.

I set down my cup carefully, my hand steady despite the roiling in my stomach.

Ava's perfect composure cracked slightly. "But Liam, I really think—"

"I said the staff will handle it." His Alpha command rolled across the table, and Ava flinched back into her chair.

Rhett shifted against the wall, and when I glanced at him, I caught something in his expression that made my breath catch. Guilt. Raw, unmistakable guilt, mixed with something that looked almost like... recognition?

The rest of breakfast passed in stilted conversation, Ava's attempts at manipulation falling flat against Liam's distracted responses and Rhett's increasingly cold stares. By the time I excused myself, claiming I wanted to walk in the garden before my meeting, the tension in the room was thick enough to cut.

The garden had always been my refuge, even as a child. The rose bushes were in full bloom, their fragrance heavy in the morning air. I found myself drawn to the old stone bench near the fountain, the same spot where I used to hide with books when the house became too suffocating.

I had barely settled onto the weathered stone when I heard footsteps on the gravel path behind me. Light, delicate steps that I recognized immediately.

"Mia?" Ava's voice was soft, uncertain. "Are you alright? You seemed... different at breakfast."

I didn't turn around. "Did I?"

"Yes, you—" She moved closer, and I could hear the calculated hesitation in her voice. "You seemed almost cold. That's not like you."

Not like the doormat she was used to walking on, she meant.

"Maybe I'm just tired," I said, still facing the fountain.

"Well, I hope you feel better soon. Especially with your big meeting this morning." There was something sly in her tone now, a hint of the satisfaction she couldn't quite suppress. "I'm sure Liam's news will cheer you up."

She moved past me toward the rose bushes, her steps becoming more animated. This was it—the moment I remembered so clearly from my previous life. She would pretend to stumble, cry out that I had pushed her, and my brothers would come running to her rescue.

I turned slightly, watching her approach the largest bush—the one with thorns sharp enough to draw blood if she wasn't careful. In my original timeline, she had managed to scrape her arm just enough to make her tears seem genuine.

"Oh!" Ava's cry rang out across the garden as she stumbled forward, her hands reaching out toward the thorny branches. "Mia, why did you—"

But her performance was cut short by the sound of rapid footsteps on the path. Liam appeared first, his phone still in his hand, his jaw set in a hard line. Rhett was right behind him, his face like thunder.

"What happened?" Liam demanded, but his eyes weren't on Ava's scratched arm or her tears. They were fixed on me, and there was something in his gaze that made my heart skip.

"She pushed me!" Ava sobbed, exactly as she had two years ago. "I was just walking past, and she—"

"Bullshit." Rhett's voice cut through her words like a blade.

The garden fell silent except for the gentle splash of the fountain. Ava's mouth fell open in shock.

Liam pulled out his phone, his movements sharp and angry. "Security footage from the garden cameras. Let's see exactly what happened."

My breath caught in my throat. In my previous life, there had been no mention of cameras, no verification of events. Just immediate belief in Ava's version of the truth.

"That's not—you don't need to—" Ava stammered, her composure cracking completely.

"Stop." Rhett's command was quiet but absolute. "Just stop with your pathetic games, Ava. We're done pretending we don't see through them."

The words hit like physical blows. Ava staggered backward, her face pale with shock and growing panic.

And in that moment, as I looked between my two brothers—at the guilt written across their features, at the way they couldn't quite meet my eyes—the impossible truth crystallized.

They remembered.

Somehow, impossibly, they remembered what they had done to me. What they had cost me. The way I had died because of their choices.

The knowledge sat between us like a living thing, unspoken but undeniable. In Liam's clenched jaw, in Rhett's haunted stare, in the way they both looked at me as if I were a ghost they couldn't quite believe was real.

Because in a way, I was.