Reborn with My Bestie

When my best friend and I realized we had been reborn and traveled back several decades, we locked eyes, collapsed into each other's arms, and sobbed, shouting that we wanted to break off our engagements. The entire neighborhood whispered that we had lost our minds. But only we knew the truth. In our past lives, this was the day everything was sealed: she married a battalion commander, Ned Stark, and I became the wife of a high school teacher, Robbie Stark. My husband betrayed me. For the sake of that pretentious whore, Scarlett Wheaton, he stole my university admission letter and let her take my place on campus. The world mocked me as a failure, and Robbie stood by in silence. After we married, every time he touched me, he would immediately write another love letter to Scarlett—atoning for his supposed guilt. "Scarlett, even if I can't be with you in this life, my soul will always belong to you alone." Even my own child despised me, calling me an ignorant village woman, urging me again and again to divorce so that his father could be with his "true love," Scarlett. And my best friend, Rachel Croft—born the daughter of a factory director—was tricked by her husband, Ned, under the pretense of buying a house. He drained her savings and her wages for twenty long years. It wasn't until she fell gravely ill and went to sell the house that she discovered the deed he had given her was a forgery. The real house—the one paid in full—was in Scarlett's name. One of Scarlett's dresses cost more than my friend's entire monthly salary. When Rachel begged to reclaim what rightfully belonged to her, she was met only with contempt from Ned and her child. "All you ever care about is money. You're nothing like Scarlett, who isn't materialistic at all. Your illness is retribution," Ned had said. "Exactly. Only someone as noble and kind as Scarlett deserves to be my mother!" her child had said. Rachel and I both spent our lives working ourselves to the bone, only to end with nothing—dying bitter and broken from the injustice. But this time, fate has given us another chance. I will go to university. Rachel will become a wealthy woman. This time, without us paving the way, those shameless men and that wretched woman think they can still live happily ever after? Dream on. Chapter 1 The neighborhood that had been buzzing with life went awkwardly still when my best friend, Rachel Croft, and I clung to each other and began to wail that we wanted to break off our engagements. The guests began whispering; their tones and glances all said the same thing—we'd lost our minds. Everyone knew that the Stark twins were golden prospects. Had our families not arranged the matches years ago, every eligible girl in the neighborhood would have shoved and jostled to marry into the Stark household. But as I held Rachel, both of us felt only the stunned relief of being reborn. To everyone else, the Stark family was a prize, but to us it was a pit of fire, a place we must not jump into again. This time around, Ned and Robbie Stark could marry whomever they liked, as long as it wasn't us! The Stark brothers had not expected our on-the-spot renunciation. Their faces went a leaden gray with anger. Robbie stood there in his white shirt, fragile-looking and bookish, his arched brows knotting tight. "Mary," he said, "marriage is a lifetime decision. There are so many people watching. Don't make a scene. The feast is about to start. "You want to back out now? All because I tutored Scarlett on a few problems before the exams? Must you fuss over every little thing?" I let out a cold laugh. If he hadn't brought it up, I might have nearly forgotten myself. Before the exams, Robbie had offered to help me study. But each time I went to his house, he would look apologetic and say, "I need to check on Scarlett," and then vanish. He told me—back then—that Scarlett's grades were worse than mine and that she needed him more. Decades later, after too much drink loosened his tongue, I learned the truth: Scarlett had begged him not to let me outperform her. He devised that ploy to delay me. And when I still got into university in the end, he hatched a crueler plan—he stole my admission letter so Scarlett could take my place. What had I done to deserve such calculation? Because I admired Robbie? Because I studied harder than Scarlett? My bright future was snatched away by a despicable guy and a shameless woman. That thought burned through me now. "Fine," I said. "If you want to talk about 'fuss,' let's start at the beginning. Did you ever think what you did cost me? You called me over to 'tutor' me, but you repeatedly bailed on me last minute when Scarlett beckoned. How much of my time did you waste? Don't use the excuse that her grades are worse and she needs you more. Her future is important, so is mine!" In my last life, I swallowed these words for the sake of Robbie's feelings. I didn't want to upset him. Because I covered for him, people mocked me. "She studied every day and still performed poorly." Not this time. I would not hide his deceit. My accusation landed like a gavel. The neighbors' chatter died; their eyes, which had been full of gossip, now regarded Robbie with puzzlement. After all, I was his betrothed—my study time was precious—how could he do this to me? Robbie had no answer. His face flushed, and with evident reluctance, he muttered an apology. "I didn't think it through, Mary. I'm sorry. But marriage isn't a joke. Your results aren't even out yet—how can you condemn me over something like this?" I was about to refuse the marriage outright when a force behind me shoved. I nearly toppled into Robbie's arms, and when I turned, I found my parents standing there, their faces full of disapproval. "Mary, tantrums are fine in small doses, but don't get carried away. Don't let people think we've spoiled you," my mother scolded. "Yes," my father added. "Don't be so picky. If you pass up a fine young man like Robbie, you'll regret it." Hearing that from my own parents twisted a blade in my chest. In my last life, when my pride still hadn't been completely ground down, I had once thought of divorce. My parents had berated me mercilessly for even entertaining the idea. They said I was ungrateful for what I had, that every woman had to go through the same trials, and if I only played the good wife and mother, my husband and children would return. After that, I never mentioned divorce again. But why—why must my only chance at a good life depend on Robbie? Couldn't I have a life of my own? "I don't want to marry him," I said. "If you like him so much, then you go marry him yourselves!" I turned to leave. My parents exchanged a glance and each grabbed an arm, holding me fast. "We won't allow your defiance at a moment like this! So many guests are here. Whether you want this marriage or not, it will happen today." "We're sorry to embarrass you, in-laws," my father said to the Stark family. "Mary is going through a rebellious phase. Lock her up if you must." Chapter 2 I struggled and screamed, but my parents remained unmoved. To them, I was simply ungrateful. Robbie was already a high school teacher at such a young age; I was nothing but a fresh high school graduate, and whether I could even get into university was uncertain. In their eyes, I was the one climbing above my station. They locked me in the Stark family's woodshed—and Rachel, who refused to marry Ned, was locked away too. Even though Rachel's family was better off—her father a factory director—there was still a younger brother to consider. Aside from the generous wedding gift already prepared for her, everything else belonged to him. We exchanged a glance through the gloom of the shed and felt our hope drain away. I crouched in a corner with a long-suffering sigh. Rachel crouched beside me. In that cramped, dark room, we leaned on one another like we always had; only we knew how deep the pain ran. Rachel let out a rueful breath. "They say a girl who isn't loved has no home after marriage. Looks like we don't even have a home before we're married." I answered with a sigh of my own. "Haven't we learned that the hard way in our last life? There's no one we can rely on but ourselves." Outside, the wedding celebrations went on. No one cared how the two brides felt. Everyone was busy congratulating the Stark brothers, my parents, and Rachel's parents. What was there to celebrate? I thought miserably. Given a second chance at life, we weren't going to live it like we had before, submissive and defeated. I shook my head at the memory of last life's misery. "No," I said. "We still have advantages this time." Rachel rolled her eyes. "They've locked us up. We can't fight them, we can't run. What advantage do we have?" I tapped her shoulder and leaned in close. "In our previous life, we were kept in the dark. But this time, we know exactly what Robbie and Ned want, don't we? And I remember clearly: after the wedding party, we didn't register the marriage. Why don't we use that to our advantage?" The Stark family wouldn't keep us locked forever. After the feast dispersed, someone at the shed door unfastened the lock. Robbie stood in the doorway; likely drunk, his pale face tipped with liquor. "Had your fun?" he slurred. "If you're done making trouble, then be a good wife." He reached up as if to stroke my head. I flinched on instinct, but forced myself to stay put and put on a timid expression. "Will you really treat me well?" I asked, voice small. Robbie laughed. "Of course. You're my wife. If I don't treat you well, who would I treat well?" Chapter 3 I gave a wry smile. That saying I'd once heard on short videos in my past life was right—a man's words are nothing but lies. In my past life, before stealing my admission letter, Robbie had been quite the actor. I pretended to believe him, lowering my gaze with a shy, timid air as I followed him outside. Rachel caught sight of my expression and nearly shook with suppressed laughter. She only behaved herself when Robbie turned back and ordered her into Ned's room. For a while afterward, Rachel and I crafted excuses, claiming we had our periods to avoid being intimate. Perhaps because they still intended to use us—or perhaps out of lingering guilt—Robbie and Ned played the role of attentive husbands. When Scarlett came calling, the four of us were tending the vegetable patch together. Robbie was carefully tucking back the loose strands of my hair, while Ned, grinning, fanned the sweat from Rachel's brow. The moment Scarlett saw this scene, the smile on her face froze. Fortunately, both men quickly jumped to their feet and stepped away from us, and only then did her expression smooth back into place. "Mary, Rachel," she said sweetly, "sorry to intrude. I have something to discuss with Robbie and Ned." The words nearly made me laugh. What business did she have to discuss with two married men? How had I never noticed her little tricks in my last life? Rachel, too, looked puzzled, though neither of us said a word. We simply watched as both men, all but tripping over themselves, hurried after her. Scarlett turned, gifting us with an apologetic smile. "Mary, Rachel, I'll just borrow them for a little while. You don't mind, do you?" She was waiting—hoping—to see disappointment or unwillingness on our faces. Instead, we grinned foolishly. What was there to mind? In our last lives, she had "borrowed" them often enough. "Of course not," I said lightly. "Go ahead, use them as you please." Her smile faltered, her expression stiffening like a fist that had landed in cotton. She glanced back and caught sight of the Stark brothers' faces, which had darkened for no apparent reason. Her heart gave a nervous jolt, and she hurried them into the house. Meanwhile, Rachel and I stood in the courtyard, moving in perfect sync as we rubbed at our arms, gooseflesh prickling all over. There was nothing to be done but endure the humiliation for now. Still, Scarlett's sudden visit suited us just fine. Without even asking, we knew why she was here. The timing was right. She had come for the admission letter and for money. Sure enough, after only a few minutes of hushed talk, she left in a rush—though not empty-handed. She carried away a tin of milk powder Robbie had insisted she take, and a red hairpin Ned had just picked out for Rachel. The three of them lingered at the doorway, reluctant to part, until they turned and caught sight of me and Rachel watching with meaningful smiles. Flustered, Robbie blurted out, "It's not what you think. Scarlett is Mom's goddaughter. Ned and I are just looking after our sister." Both men looked uneasy, terrified we might make a scene. After all, they knew perfectly well—I loved milk powder, and Rachel had coveted that red hairpin for ages. But we showed no reaction, only smiling as we answered, "If she's a god-sister, then of course you should look after her. We don't mind." Watching the two men exhale in relief, Rachel and I exchanged a quiet glance. The time was almost ripe. Chapter 4 In my previous life, it was around this time that my admission letter should have arrived. And it was also around now that Ned first brought up the idea of needing money to buy a house. These past few days, Rachel and I had been playing our roles well—obedient, compliant, just like before, acting as if we couldn't live without the Stark brothers. So when I offered to go out and buy groceries, they didn't suspect a thing. Before I left, Robbie smiled, his eyes curved in that gentle arc he was so good at faking. "Mary, thank you for your hard work. Buy some spinach while you're out. I remember it's your favorite." Spinach? Not anymore. Because Scarlett hated spinach, our household hadn't seen a single leaf of it in thirty or forty years in the previous life. Even if I had once loved it, I no longer recognized the taste. I nodded calmly, but instead of heading to the market, I took a turn and made straight for the school. Admission letters were always delivered there in bulk. I didn't even need to guess—Robbie would definitely take mine before it ever reached me. So I made up an excuse about picking something up for him and slipped into his office. His office was almost bare, save for one object that stood out: a delicate porcelain teacup, far finer than anything else in the room. I remembered that teacup. In my previous life, Robbie had treasured it like gold. Even after retirement, he used it every day at home. One afternoon, while mopping, I accidentally knocked it to the floor. He flew into a rage and slapped me across the face. Hurt and humiliated, I confided in my son, only for him to frown and say that the cup was precious. Precious? Not because of its make. But because it had been a gift from Scarlett. Expressionless, I tore my gaze away from the teacup and pulled open his drawer. My fingers brushed past a stack of love letters he had written to Scarlett, reaching straight for the envelope pressed at the very bottom—the one with my name on it. My admission letter. I ripped it open without hesitation, tucked the contents into my bag, and grabbed a scrap of paper. Scribbling a few words, I stuffed it back into the empty envelope. My pulse hammered as I shut the drawer. Without daring to linger, I slipped out. At the school gates, I sat beneath a tree and waited, nerves buzzing, until finally… I spotted Rachel. "Rachel! You scared me half to death. I thought you wouldn't make it out!" Rachel came running, breathless, sweat beading her forehead, and rolled her eyes at me. "All thanks to that bastard, Ned!" she spat through clenched teeth. "I was afraid he'd notice something amiss. He kept pestering me for money to buy a house. I refused no matter what, but he badgered me for what felt like forever. "Normally, he's silent as a stone, but when it comes to Scarlett, suddenly he's all fire and devotion." "After I gave him the passbook, he even promised to buy me a silver bracelet. Mary, you know, in our previous life, I waited until my dying day and never saw that bracelet!" Because the moment Scarlett laid eyes on it, she had demanded it for herself. I sighed softly and placed a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Don't dwell on it. It's all in the past. Do you have the passbook?" "Of course I do! This time, if they think they can spend my money, they're dreaming." Rachel looped her arm through mine. Her eyes, once dulled and lifeless in our last life, now glittered faintly, like stars in the sky. "Mary," she said with sudden, fierce determination, "let's go. Let's carve out a wider world for ourselves." Chapter 5 The Stark brothers lingered outside their home, rooted at the doorway far longer than usual. A door that normally yielded with the lightest push now seemed unbearably heavy. Ned sighed. "Robbie… do you think we've gone too far?" True, there had never been much real affection between them and Mary or Rachel, but they had married them. For better or worse, they were bound for a lifetime. A flicker of guilt crossed Robbie's face. Yet when he recalled the look of pure joy on Scarlett's face as she received their gifts, the guilt faded. In its place rose a conviction—it had been worth it. After all, when they were boys, Scarlett had saved both his and Ned's lives without asking anything in return. She was kind and selfless. She deserved the very best the world had to offer. "Don't overthink it. At worst, we'll just make it up to them. Mary and Rachel care for us deeply. They'll come around." His gaze dropped to the fish he carried in one hand. When Mary came back with spinach, he thought, he could make her soup. She was far too thin; she needed nourishing. The truth was, Robbie wasn't entirely indifferent to Mary. Ever since he'd known the marriage was set, he had accepted that she would be his wife. He glanced sideways at his younger brother. Ned looked hollow, empty-handed. The bracelet he'd promised Rachel had already been given to Scarlett. No wonder he looked so ashamed. For some reason, Robbie felt as though he had won. His mood buoyed, he pushed the door open. But the house was strangely, unnervingly empty. A closer look confirmed it: neither Mary nor Rachel was anywhere in sight. Panic prickled his chest. Just then, their mother stumbled back from a poker game, swaying slightly as she walked. Robbie hurried forward. "Mom, have you seen Mary?" She blinked in surprise. "Didn't she go buy groceries? She isn't back yet? Then who's cooking dinner?" Worry clouded Ned's expression. "And Rachel? Why isn't she here?" "Oh, I think she said she was going home for a bit, right after you left. Why? What's going on?" At her words, both brothers went pale. The gnawing unease in their hearts hardened into certainty. Without answering, they spun on their heels and rushed out in search of their wives. But they hadn't made it far when Scarlett appeared, her face flushed with anger, clutching the very items they had just given her—the admission letter and the passbook. The brothers froze, dread coiling in their stomachs. Before they could ask, she spilled everything in a torrent. "Robbie, Ned… Mary and Rachel have been playing us for fools! Look at this!" Robbie stared at the envelope in her hand. Inside was not an admission letter at all, but a single slip of paper that said: Stop coveting what doesn't belong to you. As for those two pieces of trash, you can recycle them if you like. The words were written in bold, confident strokes. Robbie recognized it instantly—it was Mary's handwriting. Meanwhile, Ned's eyes were locked on the passbook. He knew very well that Rachel's wedding gift had been generous—the price her father had paid to send her away completely. But the passbook in Scarlett's hands showed only a single cent. The brothers lifted their heads and met each other's eyes. What they saw reflected back was the same: raw fear. 'It's over. Completely over. They knew. They knew everything!'