When I was five months pregnant, Thomas's first love came to the house to provoke me and commit arson. I immediately called Thomas for help. In the end, my child was saved, but Mickey died in the fire that day. Thomas said he didn't blame me and told me to rest easy in the hospital until I gave birth. But on the day I gave birth to our child, he burned me and the baby alive. In my final moment, through the raging flames, I saw his vicious, twisted face. "If you hadn't deliberately set that fire, Mickey would never have died!" "You think you can fool me by pretending to be the victim? Dream on! You're going to pay for her life with yours!" "You like setting fires, don't you? I'll let you experience it firsthand, feel every bit of Mickey's pain before she died!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the fire scene. Thick smoke poured into my nostrils, choking me into violent coughs. The pain instantly jolted me awake from my memories of my past life. The first thing I did was pull out my phone, but this time I didn't dial my firefighter captain husband—I called 911 instead. When the rescue team arrived, I spotted Thomas's familiar figure from afar. Only after he carried Mickey out of the fire did I feel safe enough to call out for help from the other rescuers. Those crew members thought I was making a fuss and scolded me coldly for a long time. A wall decoration crashed down, slamming hard into my pregnant belly. I coughed up blood on the spot, but they still acted as if they hadn't noticed. Gritting my teeth through the excruciating pain, I used every ounce of strength to crawl out of the fire scene. But all the cooling and emergency equipment was being used on Mickey. Thomas didn't even bother to glance at me, only cursing that I got what I deserved. The pain made me break out in cold sweat, blood spilling from my mouth. I could even feel my child's life rapidly slipping away. In my past life, when the fire first started, both Mickey and I had called Thomas for help at the same time. But for the sake of the child, he chose to rescue me first. By the time he returned to the fire scene, the blaze was out of control and he couldn't go back in to save anyone. Mickey died in the flames on the spot, burned beyond recognition. Thomas said it was okay and told me not to blame myself. To comfort me, he even took time off to stay with me until I gave birth. But on the day I delivered our child, he dragged me and the baby to Mickey's grave. Right in front of me, he slit our child's throat with a knife. Blood splattered across his face, making his eyes look even more bloodshot. "Angel, do you know what it feels like to be burned alive? Mickey suffered through that pain, and I'm going to make you repay it ten times, a hundred times over!" Later, just as he wished, I died in the flames with our child. This time, reborn, I only wanted to escape far away. I never expected he still wouldn't let me go—he wouldn't even spare the cooling and first aid equipment for me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw blood gushing from below. I wailed, using my hoarse voice to make one final plea for help. "Save the baby... please..." The crew member closest to me finally noticed and turned to look at me. But his eyes were full of disdain and mockery. He kicked at me with his foot. "Angel, stop acting. Everyone on our team knows you can't stand Mickey, right?" "I can't believe you'd commit arson while pregnant. Thomas already went to save someone—no one's watching your performance anymore." "Honestly, I kind of admire you. To do this kind of thing for a man." "But it's a shame—Thomas only has eyes for Mickey. You better pray she's okay, or Thomas will divorce you in a heartbeat!" I knew Thomas didn't love me, but I never imagined even his crew members saw me this way. The violent contractions in my abdomen made it impossible for me to make another sound. My scalding skin was peeling off in the high temperature. All the crew members were busy putting out the fire. Not a single person asked about my condition. As my consciousness faded, I heard someone nearby exclaim: "Oh no! Why is there so much blood on the ground? This is bad—what if something really happened to Angel?" "What could possibly happen? She just wants Thomas to look at her. She's been making a scene for ages. Whatever, just go call Thomas over and try." But I didn't get Thomas's concern—only his ruthless interrogation. His gloved hand slapped me hard twice across the face. "Angel, wake up. Stop pretending. I'm here now." "Is your brain broken? You set a fire and managed to burn yourself like this? Shooting yourself in the foot—is this fun for you?" Even at this point, he still thought I set the fire. He still thought I was acting out of jealousy. I wanted to explain, but my mouth was too dry to speak. My stomach hurt terribly. All I could do was reach out and grab his sleeve, hoping he would understand my plea for help. But after hesitating for two seconds, he pressed down hard on my abdomen. "Pretty convincing act. If Mickey hadn't told me you hid yourself after setting the fire, I might have actually believed you." After leaving those words, he turned and left without hesitation.
The next second, a crew member's shocked voice rang out beside me. "Thomas! Blood! Angel is bleeding!" "Is she having a miscarriage?!" "Don't worry about her. Mickey said it's just chicken blood. The baby's already five months along—it's not that easy to lose. If she wants to act, let her act." After the intense pain, my vision went black and I lost consciousness completely. In my dream, I seemed to return to when I first met Thomas. At a campus lecture, his face was cold as ice, but his impressive professional skills captured many girls' hearts. I was no exception. After falling for him at first sight, I started asking around about him. Back then I was still a teaching assistant at the school. He didn't think much of me. To get his attention, I worked harder and harder. After getting tenure, I invited him to dinner under the guise of gratitude. I keenly noticed that the way he looked at me had changed. I seized that opportunity and pursued him relentlessly. Flowers, basketballs, cakes, coffee—I never held back on gifts. Finally, I got what I wanted. He agreed to my confession. I thought this was the beginning of happiness, but it turned out to be the start of my nightmare. After we got together, he grew colder and colder toward me. Every time we had a date, either he was busy with work or had a sudden rescue mission. I never doubted him until our wedding day. An email from abroad completely shattered my dream. Mickey had documented in detail their ten years together. Every second of those memories felt like a knife to my heart. It turned out that all the time he stood me up, he was spending with another woman. What was even sadder was that I didn't even have the courage to confront him. I was afraid he would leave. In my past life, when Mickey died, he was so calm that I once thought I was the winner in this relationship. For me and the child, he practically bought out every baby store in the city. This sudden surge of affection made my head spin and I completely lost my ability to think rationally. It wasn't until the moment I gave birth and died at his hands that I understood. He wasn't loving me with his life—he was relentlessly taking revenge. The love of his life, from beginning to end, had only ever been Mickey. When I woke up, I was already in a hospital room. The person beside me wasn't Thomas, but an unfamiliar face. "You're awake? I'm your downstairs neighbor. I originally went up to check on the fire." "Who knew when I got there I'd see you lying on the ground alone, so I brought you to the hospital. Are you okay? How do you feel?" I struggled to move my limbs. When my hands touched my belly, my movements froze. "I'm sorry, but when you were brought in, the doctor said your baby couldn't be saved..." I pulled at the corners of my mouth in a bitter smile. "It's not your fault. I know." "Thank you for bringing me to the hospital." Even a stranger could tell at a glance that something was wrong with me, but my husband of five years couldn't be bothered to look at me. Seeing my low spirits, he seemed even more upset than I was. "I don't know what's wrong with that rescue team. How could they not save someone lying there in plain sight?" "If I hadn't gone up, you'd be dead by now! Where's your family? Doesn't the baby's father care?" "If you have his number, I'll contact him. You can't be alone right now." "I've already reported that rescue team. People like that are a blight on society if they keep working!" I nodded, but when I spoke, only a whisper came out. "The baby's father is dead."
His face was filled with sympathy, and he offered to take care of me until I was discharged. I declined his kindness. I transferred him the hospital fees and surgery costs, then urged him to leave. Though he left, the online uproar continued to ferment. The topic of the rescue captain's house catching fire carried its own buzz. It had already shot to the top of trending topics across all major platforms. The neighbor kindly posted a photo of me collapsed on the ground in the comments section. It instantly sparked heated discussion across the internet. Everyone was condemning the rescue team, asking if they only cared about putting out fires while ignoring a pregnant woman and the life in her belly. If so, they should be called a fire department, not shamelessly claim to be a rescue team. I scrolled through all the online abuse in the comments and felt that such punishment was still too light for Thomas. I opened the chat window, about to send him a message about divorce. But Mickey's gloating message popped up first. Turned out she was in this hospital too, right on the floor below mine. In the photo, Thomas was personally feeding her porridge, carefully blowing on it again and again to make sure she wouldn't burn herself. I'd seen countless photos of them intimately intertwined. Such images could no longer stir my emotions. I quietly closed the chat window and called Thomas. On the fifth try, he finally answered, his voice extremely impatient. "You still have the nerve to call me? What do you want? Asking if Mickey's dead yet?" "Sorry to disappoint you! I already saved Mickey! She's alive and well, right here in the hospital!" "Angel, knowing you all this time, I never imagined you were this kind of person. Do you know what you did? You tried to kill someone! Are you insane?" "I'm giving you one hour. Get down to the hospital room right now and apologize to her! Or else we're getting divorced!" Before I could speak, Mickey's pitiful sobbing came through the line. "Thomas, don't blame Angel. It's all my fault. If she says I started the fire, just accept it. Don't argue with her—pregnant women can't handle emotional stress." Thomas let out a long sigh, disappointed. "You're just too kind. That's why she keeps walking all over you. We knew each other first. Who does Angel think she is? What right does she have to hurt you?" "Don't worry about it. This time I'm definitely going to teach her a lesson!" While the two of them were being sickeningly sweet, I said calmly: "Fine, let's get divorced. I agree. I'll send you the papers right away. Remember to sign them." Thomas clearly hadn't expected me to bring up divorce first. After a moment of shock, his anger exploded. Just as he was about to lash out, I abruptly hung up. Before I could block his number, a barrage of text messages came flooding in. "Where are you? Angel, have you lost your mind today? I've been holding back because you're pregnant, and now you're pushing your luck?" "You think just because you're pregnant I won't dare divorce you? I'm afraid on the day you give birth you'll have no one to sign the papers and you'll have to crawl out of bed and beg me on your knees!" "And the news online—take it down immediately! Don't make me expose your true face to the public!" I didn't keep reading. I deleted all the messages and blocked his number.
Even though I'd already gone through the bloody lesson of my past life. Being betrayed by him again still made my heart ache involuntarily for a moment. The nurses who came in to change my bandages didn't notice my expression and started chatting among themselves. "That man downstairs is so handsome. It's the first time I've seen a couple so well-matched! I heard they're childhood sweethearts, a campus romance. I'm so jealous." "Your news is old. Latest update—Mr. Thomas spent a fortune to rent out an entire cafeteria window just so he can personally cook for his beloved wife every day!" "Just now when I went to apply her medicine, Mr. Thomas wouldn't even let me touch her. He insisted on doing it himself. True love is so sweet!" I stared numbly at the needle marks on the back of my hand. My arm, with a layer of skin peeled off, was both painful and itchy. When they left, I felt relieved and gasped for oxygen, but somehow couldn't draw it into my chest. That evening, the doctor came to see me and said my abdomen had suffered severe trauma. It would be very difficult for me to have children in the future. Hearing this, my first reaction was actually relief. At least without a child, he wouldn't have to suffer with me. An innocent life deserved a better future. After everyone left the room, I took out my phone to check the latest developments online. The cyberbullying had escalated beyond control, forcing the rescue unit's leadership to issue a statement. However, his explanation was that the fire was entirely staged by me, that I deliberately hurt someone out of jealousy. Not only did I waste the unit's rescue resources, but I also got their captain criticized. In the video, the leader kept saying he hoped netizens would let this matter go. But every word was directing the source of the conflict toward me. To increase the video's credibility, Thomas registered an account under his real name and posted our marriage certificate. His action completely sealed my fate in the wave of online abuse. The criticism that had been aimed at the rescue team suddenly turned toward me. My homepage was overwhelmed and banned by the platform. My attempts to explain were drowned in the netizens' curses. Over the next few days, I could feel the hospital staff looking at me with hostility. If not for their professional ethics barely holding up, I probably would have been kicked out already. Every day I received packages from different places, all without exception containing threats. Faced with all this, I never offered a single word of explanation. Only on the day the doctor said I could be discharged did I send Thomas a message. "Let's go to City Hall tomorrow and finalize things." He seized this opening to call me back. "What, finally can't hide anymore? Finally have the nerve to show your face? I warned you. I gave you a chance. You're the one who refused to take down the online controversy. Don't blame me for being merciless now!" "If Mickey hadn't pleaded for you, I would have reported you to the police long ago!" "Fine, let's divorce. When the child has no father, don't come crying to me! If he becomes an orphan, it's your own doing!" Before I could speak, he'd already hung up. I quietly opened our home security camera app and downloaded the footage of Mickey committing arson that day. Early the next morning, after checking out of the hospital, I headed straight to City Hall with my documents. But when the time came, it was Mickey who showed up. "I told you long ago, you can't beat me. Your husband is nothing but my lapdog." Looking at my abdomen, she feigned surprise. "Oh my, where's the baby? What a shame. In the past life, killed by his own father. In this life, killed by his own father again. Having you as a mother, what a short-lived ghost..." She was reborn too?
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