The Birthday When Love Turned Fatal

As the clock struck twelve on my birthday, Elion Lennon's call came through, his tone filled with an eerie determination.

"Vernia Keller, happy birthday. Let's end our lives today and make your parents sorry for everything!"

"They're the ones who won't accept our relationship," he added, his words piercing my heart.

Clouded by affection and hopelessness, I couldn't say no. I hurried to his home, my chest pounding with a mixture of anxiety and loyalty.

As we stood together, he began counting down. At three, I leaped, only to hear his mocking laughter behind me.

Elion remained where he was, his phone pointed at me, recording the moment with cruel accuracy.

"Look at this idiot," he mocked, his laughter empty and harsh. "I told Vernia to jump, and she actually did it!"

The following day, my mother, her voice shattered with sorrow, phoned him. She implored him to come to my funeral.

Without any guilt, he answered coldly, "I'm occupied. I'm obtaining my marriage certificate with my fiancée today."

When I awakened in this new existence, Elion was at my doorstep, tears flowing down his face as he begged.

"Die with you? Why would I squander my second chance on someone so pitiful? You're so destitute; all you have left is your dignity. Meanwhile, I have billions in inheritance waiting for me."

Elion stood motionless, shock etched on his face before anger distorted his features. "Vernia, you sorceress! You never cared for me!"

"You're correct. My love for you is gone. But my desire to see you suffer? That's very much alive."