After Rebirth, I Let My Daughter Elope; She Went Mad With Regret

Start Reading

My daughter fell for a small-time thug and wanted to dump her boyfriend, a graduate student, to be with him.

I threatened to kill myself to stop her, and in the end she cut ties with the thug. Her married life was comfortable, wanting for nothing.

Twenty years later, I lay sick in a hospital bed.

My daughter pulled out my oxygen tube with her own hands.

"All because I didn't come down that day, Ryder drank himself sick and died in a car crash!"

"You killed him! You should have paid with your life long ago!"

I wanted to tell my daughter that the thug got drunk to catch another girl's attention, that he'd picked a drinking contest with someone else on purpose.

But I couldn't get a single word out before I stopped breathing.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the thug stood downstairs shouting my daughter's name.

My daughter was glaring at me, vicious.

"Don't even think about stopping me this time. I'm going to be with Ryder no matter what!"

Had my daughter been reborn too?

Then this time, I'd let her have exactly the life she wanted.

As long as she never regretted it.

Stacy Whitney's eyes were red-rimmed, her voice shaking.

"You keep saying it's for my own good. You just want Garry's money, don't you? You want to ride on me!"

"You don't love me, you're selling me!"

"You want to trade my happiness for your fortune. Keep dreaming!"

The Stacy in front of me blurred into the Stacy who had ripped out my oxygen tube.

I fought down the urge to slap her and unclenched my fist.

She wanted to jump into the fire. Fine, I'd let her.

I slid my hand into my pocket and started the recorder on my phone.

"Stacy, you can be with whoever you want. I won't interfere."

Stacy froze for a second, then let out a contemptuous laugh.

"Good. At least you know better."

She changed her shoes to head out. I stepped in front of her.

Her expression turned nasty.

"I knew you were faking. Everything out of your mouth is worthless!"

"Isn't this where you put on your jumping-off-the-building act? Go ahead! I'll stand right here and watch you jump."

I shook my head. "I'm not trying to stop you. I just haven't finished talking."

Stacy sneered.

"So now you're going to lecture me about consequences, scare me with all the suffering?"

"You just look down on Ryder because he's got no education and did time. People can change!"

I didn't answer her. I took out a formal disownment letter.

"You're free to date whoever you like, I won't interfere. But you have to sign this first. From now on, there's nothing between you and me, nothing between you and this family."

"I won't give you another cent, and I won't look after you anymore."

"Even if one day you can't afford to eat, I won't give you a single grain of rice."

Stacy took the letter, and a flicker of hesitation crossed her eyes.

She dared to throw everything away and fall into that thug's arms only because the family was there to catch her.

That Ryder didn't even have a job. Without me as her safety net, Stacy had no ground under her either.

I pressed her, impatient. "You keep saying you don't care about money. What is it, then? Still can't stomach going hungry with him?"

That line worked. It doubled her urge to defy me.

She laughed, too big for it.

"I was wondering why you dropped the suicide act. So it's money you're using to threaten me into backing down?"

She scrawled her name across the page, then spun around and shoved the letter in my face.

"Fortunes turn. When Ryder and I make it big, don't come crawling back with a smile begging us for anything!"

I put the letter away. "You can go now. Send me your address later and I'll mail your things to you."

Stacy gave a cold laugh, her face saying, Let's see you keep this act going.

She reached for the door. I turned and walked back into the living room.

Stacy froze for a second.

The next second, the front door slammed shut with a bang.

I stood by the window and watched Stacy race down to Ryder below.

The two of them fell into a kiss.

Ryder really wasn't bad-looking, with a hint of that bad-boy swagger.

Stacy was small and pretty, laughing sweetly in his arms.

If I didn't know that in the last life Stacy never went down, that Ryder had his arms around another girl that very night, it would have been a genuinely beautiful sight.

Stacy lifted her head toward the window, eyes full of defiance.

I pulled the curtain shut.

That night, Stacy updated her feed.

She and Ryder were carrying on at a bar, a crowd of guys and girls gathered around them, cheering them on.

Her neckline was cut low, and in the fifteen-second clip, Ryder's eyes never once left her chest.

Her caption read: : I'm giving up everything to run to you.

But all I saw were three words: throwing herself away.

A call came through on my phone. It was Garry Gilbert.

Godmother, Stacy says she wants to break up with me. Did I do something wrong, something that made her angry?

I picked up my glass and took a sip of water.

Have you seen her feed?

She blocked me right after she sent the message. I can't see anything.

I'll send it to you.

I forwarded the video to Garry.

He was quiet for a long time.

Godmother, this guy doesn't seem like a good person. I have to go save Stacy.

Garry, she's not going to turn back.

There are plenty of good girls out there. I believe you'll meet someone better.

Garry was a former student of mine. Good grades, good looks, good family.

After he graduated, he came by my house to visit me, and that was how he met Stacy.

Once the two of them got together, Garry started calling me godmother.

Both of Garry's parents were members of the National Academy of Sciences. Clean money, clean background.

I'd thought this was Stacy's good fortune.

But then she met Ryder, and after a couple of lines from him her head was turned. She said she was sick of a dull life, that she wanted something fresh and exciting.

Fine. Let's see whether she'll be satisfied once she's actually living the "exciting" life.

The next day, Stacy sent me an address in the run-down tenement district.

Ship my stuff here.

Rent there ran two hundred a month, all single-room flats.

The toilets were shared outhouses.

Stacy used to think even a public restroom on the street was too filthy to touch. Now she was willing to live a life of emptying a chamber pot every morning.

I packed up her clothes and called a courier.

I sent over the tracking number, and Stacy fired back a message.

Don't think I don't know what you're up to. I'm only living here for now. Ryder says he'll make money and get me a better place!

One day you'll understand what you lost because you looked down on people! You'll grow old with no one to care for you, and I'll be happy for the rest of my life!

Care for me?

The kind who pulls out my oxygen tube?

No thanks, I really don't need that.

I sent back two words.

Congratulations.

Then I turned and went to the hospital for a checkup.

In my last life, when I was hospitalized, there was a nurse a few years younger than Stacy who took the most tender care of me.

She told me she was an orphan, and that being near me felt like being near her mother.

Doing the math, she should be twenty now.

Meeting her early, taking her in as a goddaughter, wouldn't be a bad thing.

I found Sally Dickerson without trouble, and we warmed up to each other quickly.

Back home, Stacy's feed had updated again.

She was holding a cup of homemade juice from some sidewalk stand, calling it the taste of freedom.

I looked at that cheap packaging. Just like her now. Cheap.

Day after day, Stacy posted to her feed.

Eating a spicy hot soup bowl at a street stall with Ryder.

Sneaking into three movies with Ryder without paying.

Riding on the back of a borrowed electric scooter with Ryder.

Every caption the same: fresh, free, exciting.

She seemed to be trying with everything she had to prove to me how wonderful her life was now.

But I remembered: street-stall food used to give her diarrhea.

She used to hand back the change herself whenever a vendor rang her up wrong.

Once, when Garry's Porsche broke down and he borrowed a Honda to pick her up, she said it wasn't good enough for her precious backside.