I Waited 20 Years Then—Now He’ll Wait Forever

In my past life, after my rebirth, I stalled the marriage registration with Liam Harrow. In that first life, once Liam learned of my pregnancy, he vanished with Isla Reed for twenty years. As I lay dying, he returned, gazing at her photo, murmuring, “If I’d waited just a day before marrying you, would it have changed anything?” Reborn, I found Liam waiting at the dormitory entrance to register our marriage. I lied, claiming I needed to deliver something to a colleague, sending him ahead while I fled to the mountains.

At Mrs. Ellis’s house, I sank into a rocking chair, staring at the cloud sea, warmed by sunlight. She offered me a roasted sweet potato, asking, “Aren’t you meant to wed Liam today? Why are you here?” I bit into the warmth, smiling, “Auntie, I had a nightmare. It left me uneasy.” She soothed, “It’s just a dream. Marry Liam, and a good life awaits. Why fear shadows?” I nodded, thinking, Marrying Liam will never happen again.

In my past, after registering with Liam, we met Isla Reed outside the hall. She lived in our village. Liam grew silent on our return—I thought it modesty, not realizing he’d fallen for her at first sight, regretting our union. His warmth faded; he’d sit alone, staring toward the village. I stopped asking why, trusting work would mend us. When our village project ended, we were split—first by assignment, then by his requests. I confronted him; he apologized but never explained. The next morning, he was gone.

Pregnancy shifted him—he cooked clumsily, walked with me, pressed his ear to my belly. Then, abruptly, he disappeared. I managed alone—prenatal visits, birth, raising our son, burying our parents. Believing him dead, I was shocked when, near death, he appeared. For twenty years, he’d lived with Isla, raising an adopted son. Isla, bitter, died regretting no marriage. Liam confessed guilt and resentment, envying the son he’d raised, blaming me for bringing our child into his world without consent. I learned he’d reconnected with his father secretly.

At Mrs. Ellis’s, I delayed an hour, then headed to the office. There, Liam helped Isla up, his face softening with awe—unlike my past blindness. “I’m here,” I said. He stiffened, panicked. Isla’s gaze held resentment, quickly masked. Curious, I wondered if she’d reborn too. I pushed, “Let’s register.” Isla cried, “My foot hurts!”—a convenient twist. At the clinic, it was minor; Liam relaxed. “They’re closing—tomorrow?” he suggested. I agreed, knowing I’d never wed him.

Riding back, Isla hopped on his bike. I pedaled alone, hearing their joy. Villagers winked knowingly. At the rented house—two bedrooms, a hall, a courtyard—I recalled past red decorations, soon darkened by his absence. I retrieved my transfer letter—a promotion I’d once declined for him. In that life, his distance grew, then his disappearance left me struggling, my son despising my exhaustion, secretly tied to Liam.

That evening, I ate alone. Liam and Isla dined intimately. He stood, flustered, “She needed food—I’d bring you some.” I took leftovers, unbothered. Later, they visited. “Maddie, Sophia needs to stay—her house is empty,” he said tenderly. I agreed, “Your house, your call. I’ll move.” He offered another room; Isla smiled smugly. Packing, I saw him make her bed with my wedding sheets. “All new,” he claimed. I whispered to her, “Overthinking it—Ethan’s just kind. Would he marry you?” Her triumph faltered.

Liam chased me, “Are you mad? I can explain.” I listed his betrayals—hours with her, her in our bed. He trembled, mute. I guessed his plan: a capable wife for his parents, Isla for love. His shock confirmed it. Sophia later gloated, “Your son called me Mom.” I pitied her, unmoved. That night, a drunk Liam sat by my door. I fetched her; she struggled with him—her burden now.

Next day, Mrs. Ellis dragged me to their house. Liam raged at Isla, disheveled—her advance post-drunk. Disgusted, I left. He pleaded, “Maddie, listen!” I cut him off, “It’s over.” His apology faded as I took the train to Beijing, relief washing over me seeing my parents alive. I thrived—promoted, a professor—while Liam and Isla’s marriage crumbled under his parents’ scorn. He cheated; she accused him. Their love, a mirage, left them broken. I walked free, my future bright.