Chapter 2: Remembering the Wrong Life

The names echoed in my head, feeling both familiar and foreign. My stomach flipped. Suddenly, things started to click.

It was like a switch flipped in my mind. Suddenly everything came back.

A tidal wave of memories crashed over me—faces, voices, snippets of conversations that weren’t mine, but somehow were. Whoa.

The original Aubrey was the daughter of a small-town pastor. She’d grown up never having a bad day in her life, always the golden child.

She’d been the kind of girl who got straight A’s, sang in the choir, and knew everyone’s birthday by heart. A classic Midwest small-town darling, right down to the Sunday dresses and polite smiles.

But one day, her dad suddenly lost it and got mixed up in some doomsday cult stuff—yeah, the kind you see on late-night documentaries. Their peaceful life shattered, leaving just her, her older brother, and her dad, who’d turned strange and dangerous.

Rumors spread faster than wildfire. Folks whispered behind their hands at the diner. Aubrey’s world shrank to the walls of their creaky old house.

But it turned out her dad wasn’t actually possessed—his body had been taken over by a demon. Sometimes, when he came to his senses, he’d rush to the biggest church in town, St. Gabriel’s, and beg them to protect his daughter and her friend.

It was the kind of thing that would make the local paper’s police blotter—‘Pastor Claims Possession, Seeks Sanctuary.’ Only this time, it was terrifyingly real.

The price? He used his own body to trap the demon’s soul, and St. Gabriel’s locked him away in the snowy woods, never to return.

They called it an ‘exile for the greater good,’ but it felt more like a burial. The woods behind the church grew silent.

At the time, the church didn’t know what to do about the demon, so they agreed and took his daughter and her friend under their wing.

The congregation closed ranks around the girls, offering casseroles and awkward smiles. It was the kind of small-town crisis management you only see in the heartland—everyone pitching in, even as they kept one eye on the shadows.

But they only managed to bring back the daughter—the friend was already dead.

It was a tragedy that hung over the town like a winter storm.

But only Aubrey knew that her friend’s body was gone; his soul, just like the demon, had temporarily taken over someone else’s body.

She kept the secret locked tight, not daring to tell a soul—not even her brother. The guilt gnawed at her.

That body belonged to St. Gabriel’s star choirboy—Ethan Whitaker, the guy beside me right now.

Ethan was the golden boy—tall, angelic, with a voice that could make you believe in miracles. Now, here he was, tangled up in this mess with me.

Why do I remember all this so clearly? Because this is exactly the kind of melodramatic gothic romance novel I just finished reading! The scene with the choirboy pinning me down is straight out of the book—the male lead, Ethan Whitaker!

My jaw dropped. Of all the places to land, why did it have to be the one with the most drama per square inch?

Right now, all I feel is regret. Deep, deep regret.

I wanted adventure, sure, but this was a little too on the nose, if you ask me.

The novel is the over-the-top kind—looks like a harem, with the male lead flirting with everyone, but insists it’s one true love. It’s a mess, honestly.

Every chapter was a rollercoaster of scandal, longing glances, and secret rendezvous.

The original character is a supporting girl, a huge obstacle for the main couple. Even though she was set up to marry the male lead, he fell for everyone but her. To help the heroine shine, he even stole her spiritual gift, leaving her broken, driving her mad, and she died a tragic death.

She was the cautionary tale—always a step behind, always the one left in the cold. Her fate was sealed before the first page turned. And now, apparently, so was mine.

The plot here is that Aubrey and her friend conspired to seduce the male lead so he’d marry her, and then they could openly work together to take down the demon.

It was a desperate plan, born of fear and necessity. The stakes were life and death. But the execution? Pure soap opera.

The problem is—they actually succeeded.

Against all odds, they pulled it off. The marriage happened, the town breathed a sigh of relief, and the demon was kept at bay—for now. Still, that ‘for now’ made me shiver.

So, I’m definitely going to win this time.

I grinned to myself. If I played my cards right, maybe I could rewrite my own ending.