Lost Love, Begone

I was reborn.

The universe spat me back to the year of my SATs, eighteen again, right when Noah Ritchie confessed his love for me.

Turned out, it was the last year he'd ever love me. That was the year he met her… the one who'd actually own his heart.

For Carla Davidson, he didn't hesitate to confess his love to me, not out of sincerity, but to distract me from my studies. Because of him, I missed my shot at a top university and barely got into a second-tier one.

He even staged a car accident to keep me from attending an academic competition, just so Carla could win first place.

When Carla suffered from severe blood loss in an accident, he convinced me to donate so much blood that it permanently damaged my health and left me unable to bear children.

Later, Noah was forced to marry me, but he spent every day brooding over a photo of Carla.

And when he learned she was getting married, he abandoned me without a second thought, choosing to die for love.

But in this lifetime, I'm wide awake. I won't love him again.

I'll be selfish. I'll live for myself and no one else.

So when Noah looked at me with his usual arrogance and asked, "Tiffany, will you be my girlfriend?"

I met his gaze calmly and shook my head. "No."

Noah Ritchie froze when he heard my reply.

His eyes locked on mine, wide with disbelief.

Had I really just rejected his confession?

Before he spoke, he had probably imagined countless outcomes. The only one he hadn't considered… was being turned down.

Noah and I had grown up together. We were childhood sweethearts in every sense.

Our parents were colleagues and neighbors.

Ever since kindergarten, I had been fond of trailing after him wherever he went.

He'd always doted on me, his little playmate, and he often went hungry himself just to buy me snacks.

The most touching memory I had of him was when I got into trouble for scratching up my family's car. I even smashed the windshield with a rock.

It had absolutely nothing to do with him, yet he stepped forward without hesitation and took the blame.

He was beaten for it and spent three days in bed.

From that day on, I swore I would marry him.

And in my previous life, I did.

But it had cost me a lifetime of heartbreak.

He did love me… just not as much as he loved Carla Davidson, the transfer student who joined our class in senior year.

For a long moment, I stayed silent, and Noah's face gradually darkened. He finally couldn't hold back and asked, "Tiffany, do you even understand what you're saying right now? Did you not hear me clearly just now…"

"I said no!" I cut him off before he could finish. "Try shaking the water out of your head, will you? The SATs are only months away. Who has time to play house with you?"

I looked at him. He was still just eighteen, his face bright and full of youthful confidence. There was no trace of the defeated, joyless man he became after being forced to marry me in our past life.

This moment only solidified my decision.

'Noah, in this life, I will never love you again. If it's true love you want, I'll let you chase it. Just don't count me in,' I thought.

I glanced at his face, now visibly twisted with frustration, and repeated my refusal.

"If you didn't believe me the first time, I'll say it again. Noah, I will never be your girlfriend. Not now. Not ever."

Each word left my mouth slowly with finality. His expression turned even darker.

He stared at me for a couple of seconds before letting out a cold laugh, like someone who'd just lost face and was scrambling for a way to save it.

"Fine," he said. "If you won't be my girlfriend, then return everything I've ever given you!"

My hand, which had been flipping through a textbook, froze mid-motion.

I looked up at him, stunned.

Noah spoke with complete self-righteousness.

"You said you won't be my girlfriend. So why should you keep the things I gave you? If you can't return them, then pay me back in cash!"

I let out a breathless laugh, equal parts anger and disbelief.

Clearly, I had underestimated how cold and petty he could become once his heart changed.

Under his astonished gaze, I removed the hair clip and elastic from my hair, then unfastened the necklace from my neck and the bracelet from my wrist.

I even dug through my backpack and pulled out a notebook and a fountain pen he had given me. I handed them all to him.

"That should be everything. As for whatever's been used, I'll pay you back."

Then I offered him the only cash I had left—twenty dollars.

With that done, I turned and walked off the rooftop of the school building, heading back to class.