For so many hours, Evelyn lived inside her memories.
She relived the laughter, the lies, the slow unraveling of her life — piece by piece, like a film playing in reverse.
She remembered the hospital room.
The divorce papers.
Julian signing them without looking up.
Serena posting a photo the same week: "Engaged to my soulmate 💍"
She remembered her body failing.
The doctor saying, "Your heart didn't break. It just gave up."
And then — the impossible.
She woke up ten years earlier.
Same face.
Same room.
Same life — before the surgery, before the betrayal, before she became a ghost in her own story.
At first, she thought she was dreaming.
Or broken.
But the longer she stayed, the more the truth settled in her bones.
This wasn't a dream.
It was a second chance.
And then, on the fourth morning, she stepped out of her room.
The house was quiet.
Sunlight slipped through the tall windows, painting golden lines across the marble floor. The scent of coffee and vanilla candles floated in the air — just like always.
And there, in the kitchen, stood her mother.
Wearing the same soft blue sweater.
Humming that old jazz song she loved.
Pouring coffee into her chipped sunflower mug.
She turned.
Smiled.
"Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?"
Evelyn froze.
Not because the house was luxurious — though it was.
Not because the staff moved quietly in the background — though they did.
But because she was here.
Alive.
Not a memory.
Not a voice in a dream.
Not a name on a condolence card.
Real.
Her mother.
The woman who raised her after her father died when she was twelve.
The woman who held her through panic attacks.
The woman who sold her favorite necklace to fund her first design portfolio.
The woman who loved her — not for her face, not for her name, not for her money — but for the girl who used to draw clothes for imaginary friends and say, "One day, everyone will feel beautiful."
And Evelyn had left her.
Not with anger.
Not with drama.
But slowly.
Silently.
She moved out after the surgery.
Started dating Julian.
Got caught up in society events, fashion weeks, late nights.
Stopped visiting.
Stopped calling.
And when her mother reached out — worried, gentle, asking, "Are you okay?" — Evelyn snapped: "You don't get it. You've never been ugly."
They didn't speak for years.
And then she died.
Alone.
With that last words still hanging in the air.
And now?
Now her mother was standing in front of her.
Same soft eyes.
Same warm smile.
Same hands that had wiped her tears a hundred times.
Evelyn couldn't speak.
She wanted to say, "I'm sorry."
She wanted to say, "I missed you."
She wanted to fall into her arms and cry like she was twelve again.
But all she could do was stand there.
And cry.
Tears slipped down her face — quiet, endless, like a dam had broken inside her.
Her mother set the mug down.
Walked over.
Touched her cheek.
"Hey… what's wrong?"
Evelyn shook her head.
Couldn't answer.
How could she explain that she had lived a life where this woman stopped being her world?
That she had taken this love for granted?
That she had chosen a man who would betray her over the woman who never did?
She didn't say a word.
She just stepped forward.
And hugged her.
Tightly.
Desperately.
Like she was holding onto the only truth that ever mattered.
Her mother held her back.
Not asking questions.
Not pulling away.
Just holding.
And in that silence, Evelyn made a promise — not out loud, but deep in her soul:
I won't lose you again.
Then, later that day, while going though her wardrobe,
She saw a box containing some pictures of her and her friend Serena,
He stomach twitched from the sight.
Then she suddenly remembered that Serena sent her a message:
"So excited for coffee tomorrow! We have SO much to talk about 😍"
Evelyn looked at it.
Then she gave off a wicked smirk,
That only resonates with her
Something that sort of meant " I guess I am back to this is life again"
She quickly reached out to her phone
Then she texted back "can't wait to see you too"
Then dropped the phone on her bed.
Like she was suddenly irritated at the phone.
She forgot about the wardrobe, She was going through
And walked towards the window of her room,
Opened the curtains and felt the fresh air hit her.
She truly needed that air to free her from a choked up life of lies.