Rebirth: I Let Him Save the Woman He Loves

Watching them leap without hesitation, I immediately started figuring out how to save myself.

After all, I couldn’t trust Eugene to remember me once he reached safety, let alone call for rescue. In two lifetimes, the only person who ever mattered to him was my half-sister, Sharon.

In my previous life, even though the odds were slim, he contacted the rescue team as soon as he reached a signal.

But this time, Sharon was the one with a chance to survive because she had the parachute.

I didn’t expect Eugene to bother with rescue efforts once he landed. Honestly, I’d be grateful if he didn’t publicly declare me dead the moment he hit the ground.

After all, in both lifetimes, the only woman he truly loved was Sharon.

It was only after we married in my previous life that I discovered the truth—Eugene and Sharon had known each other long before. They met in school as two illegitimate children brought back into their families, finding solace in their shared pain and promising to stay by each other’s side.

The engagement with me was a calculated move. I was the legitimate heiress of the Cook family, and all its future wealth was destined to be mine.

So even though Eugene loved Sharon, he chose to save me for the Cook family fortune.

In my past life, he deeply regretted that choice.

This time, I made the choice for him. He should be thanking me.

As their figures disappeared from view, I ran straight to the cockpit.

In my previous life, Eugene’s constant accusations gradually convinced me that the crash, Sharon’s death, and everything that followed were all my fault. He led me to believe that I’d stolen her chance at survival.

Those feelings of guilt drove me to learn how to fly a plane. I even earned a pilot’s license and watched countless simulations of the crash, analyzing every detail.

I consulted expert after expert, but their responses to my simulations had always left me stunned.

For years, I dreamed of going back to this day, hoping for a chance to rewrite it all.

Now, standing in the cockpit, I could hardly contain my excitement. My chance had finally come.

Following my previous experience, I fastened the seatbelt and began maneuvering the plane into a slow descent.

After all, the crash wasn’t an accident. It had everything to do with the upcoming project in Ashford, where the Cook family and the Shaw family were both leading contenders.

The plane itself hadn’t malfunctioned. The entire incident was orchestrated, with today’s crew deliberately planted by a rival family. They claimed it was an error, intentionally sabotaged one of the parachutes, and created chaos to unnerve both families and gain an edge in securing the project.

But this time, since I was back, I wasn’t going to let history repeat itself.

Sitting in the cockpit, I skillfully opened the throttle, took control of the yoke, and adjusted the rudder pedals.

The engine roared to life, its hum echoing through the cabin. The plane, which had been plummeting rapidly, gradually stabilized.

It even showed signs of leveling out. With steady adjustments, I managed to bring the aircraft back to balance.

However, given the altitude lost during the descent, it was impossible to make it to the airport. An emergency landing was my only option.

Luckily, the area below wasn’t filled with skyscrapers but a vast expanse of mountains.

I carefully guided the plane downward, skimming over treetops that bent and broke under the aircraft’s path before it finally came to a halt in a valley between two peaks.

Stepping out of the cockpit and onto solid ground, I felt as though I had been reborn.

However, the landing site seemed desolate, far removed from any sign of civilization. And as I feared, there was no signal.

After several failed attempts to call for help, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

Carrying the few supplies left on the plane, I began walking toward the foot of the mountains. The path was rugged and treacherous, and I hadn’t gone far before wild grasses scratched at my skin, leaving cuts along my ankles.

Blood beaded on my ankle, but I ignored it, pressing on toward the base of the mountain.

Finally, I spotted a figure in the distance on a narrow trail. I shouted desperately, “Help! Please, wait! Help me!”

He heard me and turned around.

But the moment I saw his face, I froze in place.

“Evan?”