She Was Born Again, So She Stopped Begging For Their Love Chapter 03

She Was Born Again, So She Stopped Begging For Their Love Chapter 03

Richard was telling Chloe stories about when he was young, about Chloe’s father. Linda chimed in now and then. Both of them trying their best to make Chloe feel at home.

They did a great job. They really did put in the effort. But that effort had never once been directed at Grace.

Grace put her bowl in the sink and turned on the faucet. She watched the water wash away the grease.

Her face was calm, almost cold. Like she was watching something that had nothing to do with her.

She remembered one time in her past life when she had a fever. She lay in bed all day, too weak to get up. No one brought her food.

Chloe came home from school, saw her, and brought her a bowl of porridge. “Grace, you should eat something.”

She was so touched she almost cried. What a wonderful sister she had.

Later, she found out Linda had told Chloe to bring it. Linda herself was downstairs, drinking tea and chatting with the parents of Chloe’s classmates. She didn’t even come upstairs to check on her.

She ate that porridge slowly, telling herself with every bite, Mom does care about me.

Looking back now, it was pathetic.

That night, Grace locked her door from the inside.

In her past life, she never locked it. Because she was waiting. Waiting for her parents to come in and check on her.

That door had never opened before someone knocked first.

She didn’t need to wait anymore. So she locked it.

She sat on her bed, opened her notebook, and wrote another line under the first one.

Plan One: Middle school—get into the best high school, win scholarships. High school—aim for early admission or full ride. College—become financially independent. Leave this house for good.

She paused. Then added:

Goal: Owe no one anything in this life.

She closed the notebook. Turned off the light. Lay in the dark.

Faint sounds drifted from the next room. Linda helping Chloe unpack. Chatting. Chloe’s soft laughter.

The laughter felt like tiny needles through the wall.

But Grace couldn’t feel them anymore. She had built a wall around the place that used to hurt. High and thick. Fortress.

She closed her eyes and said to herself: Grace, don’t look back this time.

People who don’t love you aren’t worth a single tear.

But she still dreamed.

In her dream, she was still that thirty-two-year-old Grace, lying in a hospital bed. White ceiling. White walls. White sheets. The whole world white.

She heard footsteps in the hallway. One after another. No one stopped.

She opened her mouth to call someone’s name. But she couldn’t think of anyone to call.

Because there was no one.

She cried in her sleep. Then woke up to her own sobs.

When she opened her eyes, her pillow was wet.

It wasn’t light out yet. Four in the morning. The whole house was quiet as a tomb.

Grace sat up, wiped her eyes, and started getting dressed.

She remembered this day. In her past life, the morning after Chloe arrived, Linda made a big breakfast and sent Grace to wake Chloe up.

Grace went. Chloe didn’t wake up. Grace called her again. Chloe still didn’t wake up.

Linda came in later, saw Chloe still asleep, and yelled at Grace. “Why didn’t you wake her? She can’t be late on her first day!”

Grace cried. She thought it was her fault.

This time, she wasn’t going to be the one waking anyone up.

She washed up, put on her backpack, and headed out.

As she passed the dining room, Linda was busy in the kitchen. She saw Grace with her backpack and paused. “Where are you going so early?”

“School.”

“You’re not eating breakfast?”

“No.”

Linda frowned, but Grace was already out the door.

The cold morning air hit her face. She took a deep breath and felt some of the stale air in her chest finally clear out.

She walked fast, like she was running from something.

Coffee shops were already open, steam rising from coffee pots.

Grace dug out some pocket money, bought a sandwich and a cup of coffee, and ate as she walked.

The sandwich was good. The coffee was rich.

In her past life, she never had a breakfast like this. Because she was always waiting. Waiting for her mother to call her to the table. Waiting for the family to eat together. Waiting for her father’s rare word of concern.

She waited for so many years. Got nothing in the end.

Now, she bought her own sandwich.

She took a bite and smiled. A small smile, barely there, that she didn’t even notice herself.

What she didn’t know was that after she left, Linda came out of the kitchen carrying a glass of warm milk. She saw Grace’s empty seat, and a complicated look flickered across her face for just a moment.

But only a moment. Because the next second, Chloe came down the stairs, rubbing her sleepy eyes, and said softly, “Mom.”

Linda’s face lit up. She walked over with the milk. “Chloe, you’re awake? Here, drink your milk first. Mom made you fried eggs and your favorite bacon.”

Chloe took the milk, took a sip, and looked around the dining room. “Where’s Grace?”

“Oh, her.” Linda’s tone went flat. “She left early. Said she ’don’t want breakfast. She’s been acting strange lately. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

Chloe lowered her eyes, her long lashes hiding her expression. “Is Grace upset because of me?”

Linda’s heart ached. She pulled Chloe into a hug. “Don’t be silly. It has nothing to do with you. That’s just how she is. Don’t take it personally.”

Chloe nodded and said nothing else. She lowered her head and drank her milk.

No one saw the flicker in her eyes. The kind that only someone who had also been an outsider would recognize.

Because she knew. In this house, her very existence was a theft from another child.

But she also knew she had nowhere else to go.

Linda, of course, saw none of this. She only saw a sweet, well-behaved girl who needed love. And a cold, ungrateful daughter who didn’t.

The contrast tipped the scales in her mind even further. She didn’t even realize what she was doing.

When Grace got to school, it was still early. Only a few students were cleaning the classroom.

She put her backpack on her seat, picked up a broom, and went to sweep her assigned area.

In her past life, she wouldn’t have done that. She was too quiet back then. No one noticed her.

But this time, she was living differently. Not trying to be more adorable. Trying to be stronger.

Strong enough that she didn’t need anyone’s approval.

“Grace?”

A voice behind her.

She turned. Her homeroom teacher, Ms. Green, was walking toward her with a stack of homework books. Seeing Grace sweeping alone, she gave her an approving look. “This early? That’s great. Very responsible.”

In her past life, Grace would have been flattered. Would have blushed and waved her hands, saying “Thanks.”

Now, she just nodded and kept sweeping.

It wasn’t that she didn’t respect her teacher. It was that she finally understood—other people’s approval didn’t matter. Especially the approval of people she didn’t need to please.

Ms. Green looked at her a little longer. Something was different about this girl. Usually so quiet she was almost invisible. But today, her eyes were different.

Before, when Grace looked at people, there was always a cautious something in her gaze, like she was afraid of bothering them. Now, that look was gone. Replaced by a calmness and steadiness that didn’t fit her age.

The last class in the afternoon was PE. Free time. Most of the girls huddled together to gossip.

Grace sat alone on the steps by the playground, an vocabulary book open on her lap, memorizing words.

The autumn wind was cool, making her uniform sleeves flutter. She didn’t notice.

“Grace.”

A boy walked over, a basketball in his hand, sweat on his forehead. It was Michael Anderson, the class president. “What’s wrong with you today? You’ve seemed off all day.”

Grace looked up at him.

Michael. The boy she’d had a crush on in her past life.

The outgoing, high-achieving class president everyone loved.

In her past life, she secretly liked him for three years. Barely dared to speak to him. Watched him get accepted to a college far away, and never saw him again.

“Nothing.”

She looked back down at her vocabulary book.

Michael was taken aback by her flat tone. He scratched his head, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

He stood there for two seconds, then walked away with his basketball.

Grace didn’t watch him go.

In her past life, she would have been happy all day just because he spoke to her. Would have written his name in her diary over and over. Would have stayed up late imagining impossible romantic scenarios.

But she was thirty-two years old in her head. How could a thirty-two-year-old soul feel anything for a fifteen-year-old boy?

She turned a page and kept memorizing.

After school, Grace didn’t wait for the family driver like she used to.

The Bennetts had a driver, but in her past life, Grace always had to wait a long time. The driver would drop Chloe off at tutoring first, then take a long detour to pick her up.

Sometimes she waited so long that even the security guard felt bad for her and offered her his seat.

This time, she wasn’t waiting.

She walked to the bus stop, checked the route, and got on.

The bus was packed. She stood in the middle, clutching her backpack, getting jostled from every direction. But she didn’t mind.

Being crammed into a crowded bus actually felt grounding. It proved she could get anywhere on her own. No counting on anyone.

When she got home, Richard and Linda were in the living room talking to Chloe.

The three of them on the couch, fruit and snacks on the coffee table. Warm. Cozy. Like a painting.

Grace changed her shoes, picked up her backpack, and walked through the living room without slowing down.