From Drowned Bride To Shining Starlight

My fiancé plunged our SUV into an icy river during a blizzard. He had a choice: save me, or save his childhood sweetheart, Kianna. He didn't hesitate. He left me to drown. This wasn't the first time. In my last life, he' d "saved" me after Kianna drowned, only to trap me in a loveless marriage. He blamed me for her death, his silent accusations a constant torment. My own parents didn't care, forcing the wedding to secure a corporate merger. I was nothing more than a pawn. He married me not for love, but as penance, making me his living scapegoat for the woman he truly lost. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the sinking car, the icy water rising around me. This time, I smiled and pushed him toward her. "Save Kianna," I commanded. "She needs you more." Chapter 1 Alyssa POV: The world shattered around me, a sickening crunch of metal twisting and groaning as the SUV plunged into the icy depths. My breath hitched, not from the impact, but from a chilling familiarity. This wasn't the first time. I tasted salt and blood, a metallic tang that was both new and ancient. "Alyssa! Kianna!" Christian's voice ripped through the chaos, a desperate, frantic sound. He was reaching for me, his hand outstretched, just like before. My heart, a bruised and weary thing, thumped a discordant rhythm against my ribs. No. Not again. I wouldn't let him repeat the same mistake, condemn us all to a living hell. The frigid water clawed at my skin, pulling me down, but a strange clarity bloomed in my mind. This was it. My second chance. A gruesome, terrifying gift. The blizzard raged outside, a white shroud over the remote mountain pass. The car, our supposed escape, was now a tomb, groaning its last before fully sinking. "Christian, the life raft!" I yelled, my voice raw, cutting through the roaring wind and the creak of tortured steel. "Only one person. Save Kianna." He hesitated, his eyes wide with disbelief, then panic. The small, orange life raft, designed for two, had somehow ripped during the crash, barely holding air, only enough for one adult. It bobbed uselessly in the churning water beside us. The icy current was already dragging Kianna's limp body away, tangled in the rapidly sinking wreckage. She was unconscious, bleeding, her face pale against the white snow. "Kianna can't swim, Christian! She needs you more. Go!" I pushed his arm, pointing towards her. My voice was sharp, a command, not a plea. My own body screamed from the cold, but my resolve was colder. Christian' s eyes darted between Kianna' s fading form and my insistent gaze. He was always caught between us. Always. The choice, the impossible choice, now rested squarely on his shoulders. Or rather, I had forced it there. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I couldn't bear to be the reason for her death again. The weight of his blame, the years of silent accusation, had crushed me in my first life. He gave a choked gasp, a sound of relief mixed with terror, as if a great burden had been lifted, only to be replaced by another, equally terrifying. He didn't look back at me. Not really. His gaze was already fixed on Kianna, his childhood friend, the one he truly loved, the one he' d always chosen, even when he pretended otherwise. "Alyssa, I'll come back for you!" he shouted, his voice barely audible above the storm. He fumbled for the deflated raft, his movements clumsy with desperation. His words were a hollow echo, a promise he' d broken countless times before. A cruel joke. I watched him go, propelling himself through the icy water towards Kianna. He didn't spare a backward glance. He never did. He was already focused on his real priority, his true love. The lifeboat, a pathetic excuse for a rescue vessel, was a mere formality for him to reach her. My lips twisted into a bitter, humorless smile. "Come back for me?" I scoffed under my breath, the words dissolving into the biting wind. "You never did, Christian." In my previous life, he "saved" me. He pulled me from the wreck, cradled me in his arms, his face a mask of heroic determination. But Kianna? She drowned. Lost to the icy depths, her death a silent accusation that haunted every waking moment of our marriage. Christian blamed me. Not with words, not directly, but with every heartbroken sigh, every distant stare, every icy touch. He blamed me for her leaving him. The memory of her funeral in my first life was still vivid. It was a cold, somber affair, rain lashing down as if the sky itself wept for Kianna. Christian stood beside me, his arm stiffly around my waist, a public display of grieving fiancé. But his eyes, hollow and haunted, were fixed on the coffin. He never cried openly, but the grief radiating from him was a palpable thing, a suffocating shroud that clung to me. He handled all the arrangements, as if he were Kianna' s husband, not her friend. He insisted on a specific plot, one overlooking the lake where they used to play as children. It was a beautiful spot, serene and picturesque, a place he would visit every week, placing fresh flowers, whispering words I could never hear. He was always gone for hours. And I was always alone, waiting, knowing I could never compete with a ghost. A week later, just as I was trying to navigate the raw grief and guilt, his family's lawyers presented me with a substantial sum of money. "For your troubles, Miss Goodman," the stern-faced man in the expensive suit had said, his voice devoid of warmth. "And as a token of our appreciation for your... fortitude during the accident." It was hush money, a bribe to ensure my silence, my complicity in their carefully constructed narrative of Christian's heroism. They wanted a tidy resolution, a seamless merger of our families. Kianna's death was a tragic inconvenience, a hurdle to be overcome. "You're still going to marry him, aren't you?" my mother had asked, her voice laced with an unsettling blend of concern and calculation. "The merger is too important." Christian had refused to postpone the wedding, even for a day. "We need this, Alyssa," he' d said, his jaw tight, his eyes hard. "For our families. For Kianna." He' d wrapped his arms around me, a possessive gesture devoid of tenderness. "We belong together." I remember the chill that ran down my spine, even then. I hadn't understood the depth of his brokenness, the twisted logic that drove his actions. Not until much later. He hadn't wanted me to die, not really. But he hadn't wanted to lose Kianna either. I was the convenient survivor, the one who could be molded, controlled, blamed. He married me not for love, but for penance. He intended to make me suffer, to experience a fraction of the agony he felt for Kianna's loss. I was his living, breathing scapegoat. The constant reminder of what he believed I had taken from him. "Why me?" I had screamed at him one night, after he' d pushed me, after I' d fallen and hit my head, blood matting my hair. "Why do you blame me? I didn't cause the accident! The steering column froze! I didn't choose to live!" He hadn't answered. His silence was a heavier blow than any words. It was the silence of a man who believed his own lies, who projected his guilt onto the easiest target. Now, standing in the icy water, the SUV groaning its final death rattle around me, I watched him paddle furiously towards Kianna. He clutched her to him, dragging her onto the flimsy raft. He wrapped his coat around her, whispering frantic words against her pale face. His true feelings, raw and undeniable, were laid bare in the flickering emergency light. He was relieved. Truly, deeply relieved that he didn't have to choose between Kianna and me, that I had made the choice for him. He was devoted to her. Always had been. Always would be. Kianna, his childhood friend, his first love, the one he had always secretly pined for. He never wanted to save me. Not then, not now. He only saved me in the first life because of the societal pressure, the optics, the expectations of our families. Now that I had given him an "out," he took it without a second thought. I had given him permission to choose Kianna, to save the one he actually loved. He should be grateful. I almost laughed aloud at the thought, the cold spray biting at my face. The SUV gave a final, mournful groan and plunged beneath the waves, dragging me with it for a moment before my life vest pulled me back to the surface. The blizzard intensified, a howling vortex of white and wind. Christian and Kianna were already a distant, flickering light in the swirling snow, fading from view. They wouldn't be coming back. Not for me. My past life had been a slow, agonizing death. This one, I would claim for myself. The cold was unbearable, but a fierce, burning resolve ignited within me. I was alone. Truly, utterly alone. But for the first time in my life, that feeling didn't paralyze me. It freed me. I looked out at the churning, dark water, the angry waves crashing against unseen rocks. Survival was now entirely up to me. And I wouldn't fail.