Reborn To Love My Stoic Soldier Husband

It wasn't until the nephew she had raised as her own son ruthlessly yanked her life-saving oxygen tube that Clara finally realized the truth: Cade-the rough, older military husband she had despised her entire life-was the only man who had ever truly loved her.

Right now, in the cold, sterile hospital room, that same ungrateful nephew was standing over her deathbed with a sickening smirk.

Clara was sixty-eight years old, paralyzed on the bed and gasping for air. Her lungs felt like they were stuffed with crushed glass. The doctors had said her illness could be cured, but it would cost a fortune.

Trevor leaned down, his breath reeking of stale nicotine.

"You spent your entire life slaving away for our toxic family, Aunt Clara," Trevor whispered, his voice dripping with absolute malice. "You bought my father a house. You bought me a car. My grandmother convinced you to leave every single penny of your estate to me, promising I'd take care of you in your old age."

He let out a cruel, mocking laugh. "But look at you now. Every day you lie here breathing is just you burning through my money. It's all mine now. Why waste it? You're going to die anyway."

He reached for the plastic valve connecting her oxygen tube to the wall.

Panic exploded in Clara's chest. She tried to thrash, to scream for a doctor, but her fingers were nothing but heavy, useless bone and bruised skin. Trevor's other hand clamped ruthlessly over her mouth.

"Just die already, you stupid old woman," he snarled.

He yanked the valve. The hiss of oxygen stopped dead.

Clara suffocated. Fire ripped through her windpipe. She was drowning on dry land. A single, agonizing tear slipped from the corner of her wrinkled eye.

Was there anything she regretted in this life? Yes. God, yes.

In her final, suffocating seconds, she didn't think of her bloodsucking family. Her mind flashed to a face she hadn't seen in decades. Cade.

Her husband. The rough, stoic military sergeant she had treated like absolute garbage. She had despised his dark skin, hated that he was seven years her senior, and loathed the fact that he came with a young stepson. She threw tantrums, ruined his life, and funneled everything he owned back to her greedy mother.

Yet, when Cade died in the line of duty just a few years into their miserable marriage, his will left her every single cent of his military life insurance. "I leave it all to Clara. I am sorry for wasting your youth," his final letter had read. That blood money was the only reason she had survived and built her business empire.

Cade... if I could just do it all over again, I swear I would never treat you like that...

The monitor flatlined. Darkness swallowed her whole.

GASP!

A violent jolt of electricity ripped through Clara's spine. She bolted upright, sucking in a massive, greedy lungful of air.

She wasn't in the hospital room anymore. She was sitting on a hard mattress, clutching a cheap, scratchy red bedsheet. She looked down at her hands. The loose, liver-spotted skin of a dying woman was gone. Her hands were smooth, young, and trembling.

She looked around the dimly lit room. Faded "Just Married" banners hung limply from the peeling wallpaper.

The memory hit her with the force of a freight train. She was twenty years old. This was her wedding night.

Her mother had essentially sold her to Cade for a meager five hundred dollars to pay off her brother's gambling debts. In her past life, she had thrown a massive tantrum tonight, feeling utterly humiliated. She had purposely frozen herself in the winter cold to avoid sleeping with him. The next morning, Cade had been deployed on an emergency mission. They hadn't even consummated the marriage.

Clara calculated the timeline in her head. Cade only had four years left to live before that fatal mission.

Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribs. Not this time.

If God had given her a second chance, she was going to spend these next four years making up for every ounce of pain she had caused him.

She heard the faint sound of running water coming from the cramped bathroom across the room. Cade was bathing.

Clara took a deep, shaky breath to gather her courage. She hopped off the bed, walked toward the bathroom, and pushed open the door.