Chapter 1

Ethan sat across from me, the morning light catching the gold in his hair.

He stirred his coffee, the spoon clinking softly against the porcelain.

Nine years, eleven months, and twenty-three days.

That' s how long we' d been married.

Seven more days, and the pact would be complete. Ten years.

My continued existence in this world depended on it.

"Sarah," he began, his voice smooth, like always.

"I need to ask you for something."

I waited, my hands resting in my lap.

"Chloe is... well, she' s a bit upset."

Chloe. The latest one. Young, an intern at his company.

"She wants something more permanent, you know how these girls are."

He smiled, a charming, boyish smile that used to make my heart flutter.

Now, it just felt cold.

"So, I was thinking, a temporary divorce. Just for a week or so."

My breath caught. A week. Seven days.

He didn' t know. He couldn' t know what that meant.

"Just to show her I' m serious, then we sort things out, and you' re still Mrs. Hamilton. Always."

He reached for my hand, but I pulled away slightly.

His eyes flickered with mild surprise, then settled back into their usual confidence.

"It' s just a piece of paper, Sarah. It doesn' t change anything between us, not really."

He said it so casually, this extreme demand, like asking to borrow a book.

His reason, Chloe' s tantrum, felt like a flimsy excuse.

A wave of shock hit me, but I kept my face calm. Betrayal was an old friend.

My chest felt tight, a familiar ache.

He thought this was a game, a way to manage his affairs.

He had no idea he was asking for my life.

"A temporary divorce," I repeated, my voice even.

"Yes, just for seven days. To appease her."

He looked relieved that I wasn' t screaming.

"She' s threatening to make a scene, and it' s bad for the company image right now."

His company. Always his company.

Inside, I was reeling.

The Soul Pact. I' d entered it unknowingly after the accident, the one that should have killed me.

Live ten years as Ethan Hamilton' s wife, in this timeline.

If the marriage ended before ten years, and we lived separately for seven consecutive days, I would die.

My soul would return to my original timeline, moments before that first, fatal crash.

Mission failure.

He was asking me to sign my own death warrant, seven days before I fulfilled the terms.

The irony was a bitter taste in my mouth.

He saw this as a solution, a manipulation.

I saw it as the end.

My isolation felt absolute, this secret a heavy weight I carried alone.

"Okay, Ethan," I said, my voice quiet. "If that' s what you need."

His smile widened. "I knew you' d understand, Sarah. You always do."

He didn't understand anything at all.