She Was Born Again, So She Stopped Begging For Their Love Chapter 02

She Was Born Again, So She Stopped Begging For Their Love Chapter 02

Grace walked into her room, closed the door, and slid down to the floor, her back against the door.

She didn’t cry. She’d used up all her tears in her past life. Her eyes were dry and sore.

She just sat there, her mind a mess, thoughts scattering like confetti in the wind.

What was she supposed to do?

She was thirteen again. Nothing had happened yet.

Chloe had just arrived. The favoritism had only just begun. The wounds were still seeds buried in the soil, not yet sprouted.

She had a chance to change everything. To stop her past life from repeating.

But how?

Kiss up to her parents? Fight for attention? Turn herself into a sweet, obedient daughter just like Chloe?

Grace’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile.

She’d tried that in her past life.

She’d tried everything.

Top grades. Scholarships. Sent money home every month after she started working. Even took a month off to come home and take care of Linda when she was sick.

And the first thing Linda said, holding her hand from the hospital bed, “Has Chloe been busy with work lately? Is her project done? Call her for me, tell her not to overwork herself.”

She heard it with her own ears. She couldn’t lie to herself.

So this time, she wasn’t going to do anything.

People who didn’t love her wouldn’t love her no matter how much she gave.

Grace stood up, walked to her desk, sat down, and pulled a notebook out of the drawer.

She flipped through it, found a blank page, took off the pen cap, and wrote one neat line.

From today on, Grace Bennett lives only for herself.

A promise from a thirty-one-year-old soul inside a thirteen-year-old body.

On her first day back, Grace did something she’d never done in her past life. She called her grandmother.

Her grandma, Eleanor Clark, lived alone in an old house on the edge of town. She had an orange cat and a few pots of clivia.

In her past life, Grace barely kept in touch. Not because she didn’t want to, but because Linda didn’t approve.

Linda didn’t get along with her own mother. So she didn’t let Grace have much contact with Eleanor either.

Grace was young back then. She didn’t dare go against her mother. So she drifted away from her grandma.

When her grandma died, she didn’t even make it in time to see her one last time.

The phone rang three times. Then a voice—old, but lively—answered. “Hello?”

Grace’s hand shook.

She opened her mouth several times before she could push the words out. “Grandma, it’s me. Grace.”

“Grace?” Her grandma’s voice lit up. “Oh, my sweet girl! What made you call? Didn’t your mom say you were busy with homework?”

Grace’s throat tightened. Tears spilled over.

She wiped them away roughly with the back of her hand and tried to make her voice sound normal. “Grandma, I miss you. Can I come see you this weekend?”

A two-second pause. Then her grandma laughed—a careful, almost hopeful laugh. “Of course you can. Grandma will make your favorite brisket. I even saved some chocolate cakes for you.”

“Okay.” Grace nodded, crying harder. “I’ll come first thing Saturday morning.”

“Okay, okay. Grandma will wait for you.”

She hung up and sat on the edge of the bed, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.

She wasn’t crying for herself. She was crying for a regret two lifetimes old.

In her past life, she missed so much. Every phone call from her grandma. Every weekend she could have visited. Her grandma’s last words: “Grace, Grandma misses you.”

She thought there would always be more time. Thought she could go later, after she finished her work, after she had free time, after she was good enough.

But there was no later.

This time, she wouldn’t let anyone or anything come between her and the people she loved.

Linda walked in. Grace had already wiped her face dry. She was practicing a blank expression in the mirror.

She had to learn not to show her feelings so easily. In her past life, her thoughts were written all over her face. Too easy to read. Too easy to manipulate.

“Grace,” Linda said from the doorway, her voice carrying a hint of suspicion. “Your older sister Chloe just got here. Spend some time with her. Help her settle in. She’s older than you, so you need to respect her, understand?”

Grace looked at herself in the mirror. Her thirteen-year-old face still had baby fat, but her eyes were completely different.

In her past life, her eyes had always held a cautious hope, like she was waiting for someone to love her.

Now, they were cold. Gray. Dead.

“Got it.”

Her voice was flat, like she was talking about the weather.

Linda frowned. She could tell something was off about her daughter today, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

She opened her mouth, hesitated, then just sighed. “You’re acting strange, kid. Whatever. Your dad will be home early for family dinner tonight.”

Family.

Grace silently repeated the word to herself. The corner of her mouth twitched. There was no smile in it.

Richard came home for dinner, just like she knew he would.

He was in the building materials business. Always out entertaining clients, and barely ever ate at home.

In her past life, Grace used to wait for him to come back. Hoping he’d glance at her and ask her, “How’s school going?”

But every time he came home, his eyes always landed on Chloe first.

This time was no different.

“Chloe, come sit by Dad.”

Richard gave one of his rare gentle smiles and pulled out the chair next to him. “I heard you did really well in school before you came. If you need anything, just tell me.”

Chloe nodded, her eyes red, and sat down obediently. “Thank you, Dad.”

The word came out so naturally. Like she’d said it a thousand times before.

Grace sat across the table. She picked up her chopsticks, took a piece of greens, and chewed slowly.

Linda came out with a pot of soup. She filled a bowl for Chloe first. Then Richard. Then, finally, she remembered Grace.

She set the bowl down in front of her. “Here. Help yourself.”

In her past life, a moment like this would have cut deep. She would have looked down at her bowl, silent, asking herself why a thousand times.

Now, Grace felt nothing.

Not because it didn’t hurt. But because she had already cut out the part that could feel it. That spot was empty now. Nothing left.

“Mom, this soup is so good,” Chloe said, her eyes bright. “It tastes just like the soup my mom used to make.”

Linda’s eyes welled up. She reached out and stroked Chloe’s hair. “Mom will make it for you every day from now on.”

Richard looked at her with concern and put a slice of brisket in her bowl. “Eat more. You’re too thin.”

The three of them, cozy and warm, like a perfectly framed family portrait. Grace was the scrap cut off the edge—not even worth mentioning.

She finished her rice, stood up, said “I’m done,” and took her bowl and chopsticks to the kitchen.

No one noticed whether she’d been full.