Reborn as the Villainess

The night Joseph Merton was crowned the youngest astrophysicist of his generation, he didn’t give an acceptance speech. Instead, he confessed his love to a girl named Clara Leigh. “There are only two constants in my universe,” he said. “Physics, and her.” But for me, the girl in question, the grand declaration barely stirred a ripple in my heart. I booked a flight to another country, planning to never see him again. No one knew that this was my fifth life. It was the fifth time I had heard his confession, and the fourth time I had lived through his betrayal. This time, I decided to push him toward the woman destined to be the true love of his life—the one who wasn’t supposed to appear for another three years.

1 Crystal chandeliers cast a brilliant, fractured light across the hall. The red carpet stretched out before me, flanked by opulent bouquets of flowers. At the center of the stage, Joseph’s eyes were shining with an adoration I knew all too well. “Clara,” he began, his voice amplified throughout the grand hall, “the atoms of the universe are never truly destroyed. And we… we will be together for eternity.” The room erupted. Thunderous applause and envious gazes crashed over me in a wave. I forced the corners of my mouth into a smile, but my expression felt like a mask of ice. Across the sea of people, Joseph’s gaze was a tender caress. He grinned and raised his award toward me. “I want to share this honor with you. Not just for this moment, but for the rest of our lives.” He was radiant, a man at the pinnacle of his world. He moved through the clamoring crowd, his eyes locked on mine. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice finally close enough for only me to hear. I flinched, taking an involuntary step back. In my mind, a chorus of ghosts began to speak. The first Joseph: “I’ve fallen in love with her. Clara, thank you for everything.” The second Joseph: “I’m sorry. Ava needs me.” The Joseph standing before me now reached out, pulling me into a hug that felt like a cage. “Marry me,” he whispered against my hair. The third Joseph: He shoved me away, his face a mask of cold fury. “Let’s get a divorce.” A tremor ran through me, and I wrenched myself from his embrace. “If I say yes,” I began, my voice hollow, “you’ll only end up hating me for it.” He mistook my words for a test of his resolve. His gaze burned with intensity. “Clara, for the rest of my life, I will only be captivated by you.” But just a minute ago, in a life that had ended in a sterile hospital room, the fourth Joseph had told me with chilling finality: “Clara, I’m done with you. If there’s a next life, I only want to love Ava.” The people around us began to chant, their voices blurring together. “Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!” Joseph’s tall frame slowly lowered before me, his left knee touching the ground. “This is the most important question I will ever ask.” He looked nervous, his hand trembling slightly as he pulled out a ring box. “Will you marry me?” “Please, just let me go, will you?” a different Joseph, from a different lifetime, had once begged me. But not yet. We hadn’t reached that point yet, where we would claw at each other like mortal enemies, our faces twisted with hate. Right now, we were still the golden couple, the envy of our circle. Our last breakup deserved to be a clean one. My face was a numb mask as I gave a stiff nod. “I will.” I had answered him with sincerity four times before. I had fought with every fiber of my being to hold onto the genuine love he felt in this exact moment. But every single time, I had failed, my efforts ending in tragedy, only to be reborn at this same starting line. I was tired. I didn’t want to walk that path again. Joseph carefully slid the ring onto my finger, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. A tide of affection rose in his amber eyes. But when he looked up, he met my gaze, and it was the gaze of a complete stranger. The moment our eyes met, his breath hitched, almost imperceptibly.

2 Joseph scrambled to his feet, his hands gripping my shoulders. I kept my head down, a statue of unwilling compliance. Finally, he settled for second best, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. In the car on the way home, he cast a sideways glance at me. “Is my little ostrich still sulking about the pajamas from last night?” The casual intimacy in his voice caught me off guard for a second. In this timeline, at this moment, our biggest fight was over something so trivial. A cool breeze rushed through the half-open window. The silhouettes of trees and guardrails blurred and receded, time rewinding at a dizzying pace. Now I remembered. I had bought a matching set of pink couple’s pajamas, hoping he would wear them with me. He’d refused. Said he hated the color. I had been hurt. It was just for wearing around the house. My frustration wasn’t about the pajamas, but about his unwillingness to bend, even for something so small. Joseph leaned over and wrapped his arms around me. “Babe, that color is just too bright. I wouldn’t feel comfortable. How about we exchange them for black ones? They’re cool, and they’ll make your skin look even paler.” But three years from now, to make Ava Mills happy, he would put on a bright pink Hello Kitty hoodie. “Alright, alright, I’ll wear it for you,” his ghost-voice would say. “Anything for my little princess. But in exchange, tonight…” I clenched my fists, a bitter smile touching my lips. Love could not withstand comparison. The moment you start comparing, you’ve already lost. Utterly and completely. “I’ll return the pajamas,” I said, gently pushing him away. I smoothed the sleeve of my dress, my voice soft. “I’m starting to understand. What you want should always be the priority.” And so now, I would bring Ava to him ahead of schedule.

3 “Let’s visit our old university,” I suggested. Ava was a freshman there right now. Joseph blinked, then a look of relief washed over his face. He gave me a placating smile. “Of course. Whatever my future wife wants.” A faint curve touched my lips, but my eyes were devoid of warmth. The first time, I was the one who met Ava first. She was a new intern at my company, the big boss’s niece. She had a talent for creating chaos. She lost a colleague’s expense report, unilaterally altered a finalized project proposal, and once, while cat-sitting, fed the cat grapes. The cat went into acute kidney failure and didn’t make it. I had complained to Joseph about every single incident. I thought he would share my disdain and keep his distance. Then came the day she borrowed my car to deliver a file and ended up in a fender bender. I was at my wit’s end with her. I asked Joseph to handle the insurance claim and damages. That one time was all it took. They added each other as contacts. In their chat history, she asked him for help fixing her computer, revising her proposals, choosing a topic for her graduation thesis… Their connection grew quietly, nurtured by her constant requests and his need to be needed. And just like that, they drifted together. Sometimes, I couldn’t help but wonder. Was I too independent? Was it because I rarely showed vulnerability or asked for help that I pushed him toward Ava, who needed him, who looked up to him, who created messes for him to clean up? I had meticulously avoided every single opportunity for them to meet. But it was as if they were fated, their love an inevitable conclusion.

4 On the main path of the campus, a young Ava Mills walked right into my line of sight, as if summoned. I calmly sent Joseph away on an errand. Then, I walked toward her. This time, I didn’t raise my hand to slap her. Instead, I bumped her shoulder. And then, I stumbled, falling dramatically to the ground. My phone flew from my hand, crashing onto the pavement with a sickening crack. The screen spiderwebbed into a thousand pieces. Ava’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! I was just talking to my friend, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay? I’ll pay for the phone, I’m so, so sorry!” She frantically took all the blame, her panic genuine. Perhaps it was that almost foolish brand of kindness that made Joseph fall for her so completely. A moment later, Joseph was there, his hand enclosing mine. “How could you be so careless?” I watched him like a spectator at a play, my gaze cool and detached. His attention was entirely on me; he hadn’t spared Ava a single glance. But Ava was staring, her eyes fixed on the way he was helping me up. “Who… who are you to her?” she asked abruptly. It was an absurd question. We were wearing matching couple’s watches on our intertwined wrists. But she had to ask, as if she couldn’t accept the obvious answer, clinging to a sliver of hope that she might hear a denial. Joseph, completely focused on me, brushed the dust from my clothes. He replied to her politely, “I’m her fiancé.” A sudden laugh escaped me. “We’re not married yet,” I said, my voice light. Then I turned to the girl. “Sweetheart, if you like him… feel free to shoot your shot.” Ava’s eyes instantly turned red. I couldn’t tell if it was because of Joseph’s answer or my mocking words. She looked down, stammering, “Ma’am, your phone is broken… I just wanted to get his contact info so I can pay you back. Please… don’t get the wrong idea.” Joseph’s brow furrowed. “Clara, what are you talking about? She’s just a kid. It was an accident, and she’s already apologized. How could you say something so flippant and embarrass her?” So soon. The protectiveness was already showing. I raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. “It was just a joke.” He was still displeased. “It was disrespectful. She’s a student. Forget about the payment. I’ll buy you a new phone. Don’t give her a hard time.” I looked down at the tips of my shoes, my voice soft but firm. “Add her, Joseph. Don’t fight destiny.” Ava eagerly held out her phone. “Mr. Merton, I can afford to pay. Just because I’m a student doesn’t mean you should have to cover my mistakes. That would be… bad for my values.” Joseph was silent for a moment. Finally, with the crisp chime of a notification, he added her as a contact.

5 Ava stared at him, her eyes shining with an unconcealable joy. “My name is Ava Mills,” she said, her voice clear and bright, as if making a formal declaration. I placed a hand over my heart. There was no pain. In the past, this scene would have driven me mad. But now, I felt nothing but a profound calm. I could even manage a friendly, easy smile, my eyes curving as I met Joseph’s gaze when he instinctively looked back at me. We went home. Joseph wouldn’t let it go. “Clara, what did you mean by ‘shoot your shot’? Was that really a joke? I still can’t believe you would say something like that to a girl you just met.” A sudden surge of rage washed over me. I swept my arm out, knocking the water glass beside him to the floor. The porcelain shattered, the sound sharp and hopeless, like the final state of our relationship—a complete mess. “Clara, what the hell are you doing?” I flinched, my shoulders hunching reflexively. He had yelled at me like that, with that exact booming volume, so many times before. I was afraid of it. But in the next instant, he was on one knee before me, his hands gently cradling my foot. “Does it hurt?” His thumb carefully wiped away a tiny bead of blood from a small cut. “I just… I feel like you don’t care about me anymore.” He looked up at me, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with a potent mix of pain, regret, and a pleading that was almost desperate. “Don’t punish me by hurting yourself. I can’t take it.” His eyes reddened, and my heart gave a sudden, sharp pang. This. This was why I could never let go. I had tried so many things to save him. In the first life, after discovering his affair, I screamed and cursed him. In the second, I subtly maneuvered to keep him and Ava from ever meeting. In the third, I poked holes in the condoms and got pregnant on purpose. In the fourth, I threw myself in front of him, taking a knife that was meant for him. But none of it worked. He always fell in love with Ava. He grew tired of talking to me. He avoided my touch. In the end, even the sound of my breathing seemed to irritate him. In every life, faced with his disgust, I would fall apart. “Joseph, you promised you would love me forever!” But he would just stare at me, his expression cold as I broke down. “You’re pathetic, Clara. Utterly pathetic.” I would glare at him through tear-swollen eyes and curse him with all the venom I could muster. “Anyone who betrays a heart like mine deserves to die a horrible death!” But the one who died, again and again, was me. First life: suicide by slitting my wrists, driven by depression. Second life: hit by a drunk driver, my mind too clouded with grief to react. Third life: bled out from a miscarriage. Fourth life: died from post-operative complications. My heart clenched, and suddenly the world tilted. I was being lifted into Joseph’s warm embrace. He held me securely, one arm around my back, the other under my knees. My head rested near his neck, just above his heart. He gently placed me on the sofa and retrieved the first-aid kit. He meticulously disinfected the tiny scratch, then lifted my ankle and blew softly on the wound. We were so close. So intimate. And that was why his eventual coldness was so unbearable. His touch was gentle as he carefully applied a cartoon-themed bandage to the cut. “If you’re still angry, just hit me, okay?” He didn’t know yet. Some wounds, the ones etched into your soul, could never be healed by a simple bandage. “I’m sorry,” I said. “That was impulsive. It won’t happen again.” I had already seen the future. I knew this love of his, so intense right now, would evaporate like morning dew.

6 Our wedding date drew closer. The changes in Joseph began to surface, small at first. One morning at breakfast, I stood up to get more coffee. He quickly turned his phone screen off and placed it face down on the table. I had seen this scene four times before. It was painfully familiar. One evening, he abruptly left, claiming he had to work late. At the same time, a new message popped up on his still-logged-in laptop. A message he had just sent: “Don’t be scared. I’m on my way.” The message above it was a voice note from Ava: “Joseph… I think someone is following me…” I calmly began packing away all of my out-of-season clothes and mailed them to my parents’ house. When Joseph returned, he was holding a stuffed animal. He handed it to me, his gesture a little stiff. “Saw this on the way home… thought it was cute… so I bought it.” Like an audience member who already knew the entire plot, I accepted it with a knowing smile. Then, I quietly moved all the gifts I had ever given him into a cardboard box in the corner. A few days later, another request from Ava arrived. “Joseph, there’s this guy who won’t stop harassing me, no matter how many times I turn him down. Could you please, please pretend to be my boyfriend? I thought about it, and you’re the only person I know who could pull it off. You’re so outstanding and impressive, if he sees you, he’ll actually believe me and give up.” Soon after, I saw her post online. “Happily taken. Please keep your distance.” The photo showed her holding a bouquet of flowers, her head resting intimately on Joseph’s shoulder, her smile radiant. I raised an eyebrow and booked a one-way ticket to Norway for myself. Later, on the collar of one of his white dress shirts, I found the faint, tell-tale smudge of red lipstick. I acted as if I hadn’t seen it and tossed the shirt into the laundry. This was child’s play. In previous lives, I had received bed photos from Ava and found her lace panties in the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Those were the kinds of provocations designed to stab you straight through the heart. I didn’t expect the lipstick to be so high-quality that it wouldn’t wash out. Joseph stared at the lingering stain, his expression dark. I quickly tried to cover for him. “Maybe… maybe I smudged it by accident?” “You haven’t even hugged me lately.” His voice was low, heavy with a suppressed accusation. “You’ve been so cold to me.” My face was a blank canvas. I replied with the same practiced excuses he used to give me. “I’ve just been really tired.” “Babe… are you getting cold feet about the wedding?” he asked, his voice laced with anxiety as I stood before the mirror in my wedding dress. He looked at my emotionless reflection, his own face etched with worry. He was about to say more, but his phone rang, shattering the moment. Ava’s tear-choked voice came clearly through the receiver. “Joseph… my roommate and I got into a fight… she accidentally stabbed me…” “The dean wants me to call my parents, but I don’t want them to worry. Can you… can you come and stay with me for a bit?” Joseph’s tension was palpable. “Is it serious?” He hesitated, looking at me. “Clara, I…” On the other end of the line, Ava must have heard my name. “Is… is she there with you? Please, don’t get the wrong idea. I really had no one else to turn to. You’re such a good person, please don’t fight because of me.” Her voice sounded incredibly weak. “Never mind, I’ll just call my parents…” Joseph removed the groom’s boutonnière from his lapel. “I’ll just go check on her. I’ll be back soon. Can you handle things here for a bit?” The ceremony was about to begin, and he was ready to abandon his bride and all our guests to run to another woman’s side. It was my cue to make a graceful exit. To finally let fate have its way. “Okay,” I said, not even looking up. My fingers were already flying across my phone screen, changing my flight to today. “We’ll talk properly later,” he said. “No need.” My voice was too quiet. He was in too much of a hurry. He didn’t hear me, and he didn’t look back. I turned, walked onto the stage, and picked up the microphone. “I’m sorry, everyone. The wedding is cancelled.” I rushed home and packed my few remaining clothes into a suitcase. Then I picked up the cardboard box full of memories. The box went into the dumpster. The suitcase went to the airport. There were no goodbyes. Without a backward glance, I walked down the jet bridge.