ManyWriters

When my mother inquired about my preference for our family's alliance marriage, I didn't hesitate—but this time, I didn't select Kendra Jewett.
Instead, I opted for Rosie Jewett, her beloved aunt.
My mother was completely perplexed. Everyone in Cavendale was aware that Kendra and I had grown up together. I had spent ten years pursuing her, convinced she was my one true love. I had once declared, with absolute certainty, that I would wed no one but her in this life.
A rueful grin played on my lips as recollections rushed back—memories of vows and affection that seemed unbreakable.
A rueful grin played on my lips as memories of my previous existence came flooding back. After wedding Kendra, she never once permitted me to be intimate with her. I had persuaded myself it was due to some deep-rooted trauma, a hidden wound she was too frightened to face. I believed I could mend it, that love would heal her.
But everything crumbled on our 50th wedding anniversary. I accidentally stumbled upon the sole room she had kept locked away from everyone. The walls were adorned with photographs of my cousin.
That instant cut through me like a blade—she wasn't averse to intimacy. She simply didn't love me.
With the pain of that realization still fresh, I vowed to myself that I would rewrite the ending in this life. I would provide her with the love she desired, the love I couldn't give her before.
But as I approached Rosie, dressed in my wedding attire, Kendra's face turned ashen, her eyes wide with disbelief. And then, it occurred. She broke. Her mind slipped into insanity before my very eyes.

Reborn to Rewrite a Love Triangle's Tragic Tale

Rosie gently tousled my hair, her smile warm and reassuring.


"Don't fret. I pay no heed to that girl's remarks."


Her expression softened further. "You're the only one I believe in."


I stood motionless, feeling heat rise to my cheeks as embarrassment crept over me.


Rosie suddenly flinched, cradling her hand and feigning discomfort. Her gaze turned tender as she looked at me.


"Oh, but my hand is really sore now," she said, her voice deliberately frail. "I might not be able to drive or prepare meals for a while. I'll need someone to look after me until it gets better…"


Despite her usual authoritative demeanor, she sounded almost childish, and I felt my heart melt at the sight.


I couldn't resist mimicking her nurturing tone as I gently patted her head.


"Fine, fine, I'll take care of you for the next few days. Just try not to be too dramatic, okay?"


A grin played on Rosie's lips, her eyes sparkling with affection.


"I'll express my gratitude in advance, dear," she joked.


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