All my life, I endured.
Endured the stares.
Endured the whispers.
Endured the word fat thrown at me like it defined my entire existence.
No matter how kind I was, no matter how much love I gave, my body was always the first thing people saw—and the last thing they judged. I learned early how to smile through humiliation, how to laugh when it hurt, how to pretend I didn't hear the insults that followed me everywhere.
So when I met him, I thought… finally.
A man who said he loved me just as I was.
A man who held my hands and told me I was beautiful.
A man who promised that my size never mattered.
I believed him.
I married him.
And that was my greatest mistake.
I still remember the moment my world shattered.
I had come home early that day, my heart light, a small smile on my lips as I imagined surprising my husband. The house was quiet—too quiet. Then I heard laughter.
Her laughter.
My best friend.
The girl who had been with me since birth.
The sister I trusted more than anyone.
The bedroom door was slightly open.
And inside… was hell.
Their bodies tangled together.
His hands on her skin.
Her lips where mine once were.
I couldn't breathe.
My husband turned first. His face didn't fill with guilt. It didn't fill with panic.
It filled with annoyance.
"Well," he said coldly, standing up. "You finally found out."
I asked him why. I begged him to explain. My voice shook as tears streamed down my face, my chest aching like it was being crushed.
He looked at me—really looked at me—and sneered.
"You're just fat and ugly," he said. "What did you expect? You should be grateful I stayed this long."
My best friend didn't even apologize.
She only smirked.
In that moment, something inside me died.
I ran.
Barefoot. Crying. My vision blurred by tears and heartbreak. I didn't care where I was going. I just wanted the pain to stop. I wanted my life to end if this was all it was ever going to be.
Then—
A blinding light.
A deafening sound.
Pain so sharp it stole my breath.
A truck.
My body hit the ground.
As everything faded, the last thing I saw was my husband standing there.
His face was empty.
No sorrow.
No regret.
Not even pity.
Just relief.
Why did my life have to be like this?
Was it always destined to end this way?
It wasn't my fault… was it?
Darkness swallowed me whole.
I woke up gasping.
My chest rose and fell rapidly as if I had been pulled back from drowning. Light flooded my vision, soft and unfamiliar. The air smelled clean—not like a hospital, not like death.
"Nam Ra!"
A worried voice called out.
"Do you know how scared we were when you suddenly passed out?"
I froze.
That voice…
I slowly sat up, my hands trembling. My body felt lighter. Different. I rushed to the mirror nearby—and what I saw made my heart stop.
The face staring back at me was mine… but not mine.
Younger.
Fresher.
Unmarked by years of suffering.
My eyes were brighter. My skin smoother. My body—still full, still soft—but not worn down by exhaustion and despair.
I whispered, "What year is it?"
They laughed softly, confused.
"Nam Ra, are you okay? It's the year 3142."
My blood ran cold.
"No," I whispered. "That's impossible."
Weren't we in 3157?
Had I… gone back?
My hands clenched into fists as the realization crashed over me.
I wasn't dead.
I had gone back fifteen years.
I was fifteen again.
Fate had given me another chance.
I was still fat.
Still underestimated.
Still looked down on.
But this time—
I knew the future.
I knew betrayal.
I knew pain.
I knew what awaited me if I stayed weak.
I stared at my reflection, my eyes burning with a fire I never had before.
"This time," I whispered, my voice steady, dangerous, alive,
"I will change my fate."
And this life—
This life would not break me again.