Rewind: The Love I Left Behind novel Chapter 1

Harrison Steele was dead.

Before the funeral, his wife, Scarlett Yeager, went through his belongings and found a thick photo album. The cover read, "My Love."

She flipped it open, but the memories captured inside didn't belong to her. Instead, they were all of Hazel Sloane, the young woman Harrison had adopted years ago.

Scarlett had always believed Harrison saw Hazel as more than a guardian's affection for his ward. But every photo of Hazel in the album—whether she was laughing, sleeping, or in tears—was filled with an unmistakable tenderness, the kind shared between lovers.

Then, she saw a photo of Hazel in a wedding dress, with a handwritten line beneath it.

"If I can't marry the love of my life, I may as well settle for anyone."

Scarlett's face turned pale as she took in the secrets Harrison had kept for years.

20 years of marriage, and in the end, all she had been to him was someone to settle for.

The funeral began soon after. People around her whispered their condolences.

"Try not to dwell on it. He's gone now. Just take the inheritance and live well."

"Yeah. Even though Harrison's company is in trouble with that drug lawsuit, he had more than enough assets. You won't have to worry about money."

But as soon as they said that, a lawyer stepped forward and said, "Mr. Steele left a will. He decided to leave all his assets, including real estate and investments, to Ms. Hazel Sloane."

Gasps filled the room. Then, suddenly, someone burst in.

"If all his money went to her, then who the hell is paying our medical compensation?"

It was the family members of those harmed by Harrison's faulty drug. Their eyes landed on Scarlett, and rage twisted their faces.

"That's his wife! If we can't get our money, then she can pay for it with her life!"

As they rushed forward, a sharp dagger plunged into Scarlett's chest.

Scarlett collapsed. The last thing she saw was Harrison's cold, indifferent gaze in the black-and-white photograph.

As her eyes shut, one final thought echoed in her mind, "If I had another chance, I would never marry you again, Harrison."

…

When Scarlett opened her eyes, she was lying in a disheveled bed. Before she could process anything, a cold voice rang in her ears, "I already called my parents. The wedding is in five days. Happy now, Scarlett?"

She looked up and saw Harrison. This Harrison was not the man in his 50s who had died. He was a younger version—early 30s, still in his prime.

Realization hit her like a tidal wave. She had gone back in time—back to the days before their wedding.

Their marriage had been arranged since childhood, but Harrison had never liked her. He delayed the engagement for years, turning her into the laughingstock of Dornwich.

Then, one night, Harrison got drunk. Scarlett happened to be there, and in a moment of chaos, they ended up in bed together. Harrison was convinced she had set him up. He resented her for it but felt obligated to go through with the marriage.