A Memo from My Eighteen-Year-Old Self

In my fourth year trapped inside this oceanfront villa, a notification suddenly popped up on my old tablet. A memo had synced from the cloud. The title was “The Choice I Made at Eighteen.” It was a journal entry I’d saved to the cloud ten years ago, back when I was still in high school. In it, my younger self had asked hopefully: “Is it worth giving up the chance to train in Paris so I can stay and help Michael Grant build his company?” Every word showed just how hopelessly devoted I’d been to him. I stared at the screen for a long time before slowly lowering my gaze. My eyes fell on my feet. They’d been shattered beyond repair, leaving them permanently twisted and deformed. Just an hour ago, Michael had brought his twenty-year-old intern, Chloe Spencer, into our marital bed. Right in front of me, he’d had sex with her. Chloe had even deliberately left her pregnancy test on the floor for me to find. A bitter smile twisted my lips, uglier than tears. Then I jabbed at the screen, typing a reply beneath the memo. “Run. Go to Paris while you still can, before he breaks your legs!” Chapter 1 The moment I tapped Send, the screen froze. Then a new message appeared. “Linda at Eighteen: Who are you? Michael just gave me an engagement ring.” My eyes widened. My heart gave a violent lurch. This cloud journal’s servers hadn’t even existed ten years ago. How could my eighteen-year-old self be replying to me in real time? Before I could figure out what was happening, the bedroom door flew open. The sharp stench of cheap perfume filled the room. Michael walked in with his arm around his intern, Chloe Spencer. She was wearing my silk nightgown. Leaning against his chest, she stared at my feet. “Michael, Linda’s feet look terrifying.” Michael frowned in disgust. “Then don’t look. You’ll lose your appetite.” I gripped the old tablet tightly. “This is my room.” Michael scoffed. “This entire villa belongs to me. So do you. “If you don’t like it, get out.” I pointed at the pregnancy test lying on the floor, its two red lines clearly visible. “Clean up your trash.” Chloe immediately ducked behind Michael. “Please don’t be mad at Michael, Linda. “This is all my fault. I forgot to take my pill last night. “But the baby’s innocent.” The same tired innocent act. My stomach turned as I looked Michael in the eye. “You’re really planning to bring your mistress’s baby into this family?” Michael let go of Chloe and strode over to me. Then he brought his expensive leather shoe down on my right foot. Right where he’d shattered it three years ago. The bones had long since healed crooked. “Shut up. “Chloe’s only twenty. She’s at the perfect age to have children. “Look at you. You can’t even stand.” Agony tore through my foot and shot straight to my head. Cold sweat beaded across my forehead. Three years ago, all I’d done was secretly apply for a job as a dance instructor. When Michael found out, he flew into a rage and smashed both my legs with a golf club. He said he was the only person I needed in my life. But he hadn’t always been like this. Ten years ago, I’d sprained my ankle during dance practice. Michael had carried me three miles to the hospital on his back. Outside the emergency room, he’d sworn through tear-filled eyes that he would never let anyone hurt me. Now he was the one who had hurt me most. “Get your foot off me.” I forced the words through clenched teeth. Instead of moving, Michael pressed down even harder. Chloe covered her mouth and giggled. “Michael, you’re so mean. “Linda’s already crippled. Don’t pick on her.” She walked over and bent down to retrieve the pregnancy test. Then she deliberately placed it on the armrest of my wheelchair. “Give us your blessing, Linda. “Once the baby’s born, I’ll teach them to call you Auntie Linda.” I knocked the pregnancy test away with one hand. The plastic stick struck Chloe’s calf. “Ah!” She screamed and dropped to the floor, clutching her flat stomach with both hands. “It hurts. My stomach hurts.” Chapter 2 Michael’s expression changed instantly. He lifted his foot and kicked my wheelchair with all his strength. The chair tipped backward, throwing me hard onto the marble floor. The old tablet slipped from my hand and skidded beneath the bed. My legs twisted at a sickening angle. Pain tore through me. Michael bent down and scooped Chloe into his arms. Then he turned and glared at me with murder in his eyes. “Linda, if anything happens to my child, I’ll kill you!” He started toward the door with Chloe in his arms. “Wait.” Chloe tugged at his shirt. “Michael, I want Linda’s ballet shoes. “The custom-made pair covered in diamonds. The ones in the glass case.” My head began to ring. I’d received those shoes after winning the national championship when I was eighteen. They were the last shred of dignity I had left in this ruined life. Michael nodded without hesitation. “Take them. It’s not like a cripple like her can wear them anymore.” “No!” I screamed until my voice turned hoarse, dragging my numb legs behind me as I crawled across the floor. “Michael, you can’t give her those shoes!” Michael stopped and looked down at me. “Get on your knees and apologize to Chloe. “If you don’t, I’ll burn every last pair of those worthless shoes.” I bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’m your lawful wife. “She’s nothing but a mistress you have to keep hidden. “Michael, have you lost your mind?” Michael kicked me in the shoulder. I fell flat on my back again. “My wife? You think you deserve that title?” Chloe leaned against him, shaking with laughter. “Linda, this isn’t the nineteenth century anymore. “True love comes first these days. What good is a marriage certificate? “Stop being such a pathetic, lovesick fool.” A lovesick fool. Ten years ago, I’d given up the chance to join a ballet company in Paris for Michael. I’d worked three jobs a day to scrape together the money he needed to start his company. I’d spent an entire year eating instant noodles with him in a basement. And now his intern was calling me a lovesick fool. I suddenly burst out laughing. The movement pulled at my ribs, sending another wave of pain through me. I sucked in a sharp breath. “You’ll get what’s coming to you, Michael.” His face darkened instantly. He set Chloe down on the nearby couch, strode over, and grabbed me by the hair. “What’s coming to me? “I’m worth billions now. I make the rules!” He yanked my head back, forcing me to look up. Then his gaze shifted to the faint glow beneath the bed. The old tablet was still open to the memo. A notification suddenly chimed. “Linda at Eighteen: I don’t believe you. Michael said he’d love me forever. Who are you?” “Believe me. I’m you at twenty-eight.” Chapter 3 The words on the screen were impossible to miss. Michael let out a cold laugh. “What kind of crazy stunt are you pulling now, Linda? “You made a fake account so you could pretend to be your eighteen-year-old self and send messages to yourself? “Do you really think this pathetic little role-playing game will get my attention?” He shoved my head aside. Then his shoe slammed into the edge of the old tablet. It skidded across the floor and struck the corner of the wall. Several jagged white cracks spread across the screen. “I’m not pretending. “That really is me from ten years ago.” I gritted my teeth, struggling to explain through the excruciating pain in my foot. Clutching her stomach, Chloe leaned against Michael’s back and whined, “Michael, do you think there’s something wrong with Linda’s mind? “She’s even making up ridiculous stories about talking to herself through time. “Poor thing. Being crippled wasn’t enough. Now she’s lost her mind too.” The disgust in Michael’s eyes deepened. He walked over to the glass display case in the corner and smashed its door with one punch. Then he reached inside and took out the custom ballet shoes covered in tiny diamonds. My breath stopped. Those shoes were my life. “Michael, don’t touch them!” Dragging my useless legs behind me, I crawled toward him across the glass-covered floor. Shards dug into my palms. Michael pulled a metal lighter from his pocket. It clicked, and a flame sprang to life. The firelight flickered across his merciless face. “If you don’t want me to burn them, put your head on the floor and apologize to Chloe right now. “Do it once, and I’ll spare one shoe. “I’ll count to three.” I froze. I looked at the ballet shoes in his hand, the shoes that carried all my pride and every dream I’d ever had. Then I looked down at the broken shell of a person I’d become. Slowly, I bent forward. My forehead struck the cold marble floor. “I’m sorry.” Michael scoffed. “Too quiet. Chloe can’t hear you.” I bit down hard on my lip until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. “I’m sorry, Chloe. “I was wrong.” Chloe looked down at me and covered her mouth with a giggle. “Linda, don’t make it look like I’m bullying you. “If someone posted this online, people might think I pick on disabled women. “It’s fine, Michael. Stop making things difficult for her.” She took the ballet shoes from his hand. Right in front of me, she tore the silk ribbons off with all her strength. Then she tossed the ruined shoes into the trash. “The baby says he doesn’t like old things. “Michael, will you buy me a new pair tomorrow?” Michael immediately wrapped an arm around her waist, his expression full of affection. “Of course. I’ll take you to buy a limited-edition pair tomorrow. “This garbage was never good enough for you.” My nails dug deep into my palms. My entire body trembled uncontrollably. Then the battered tablet in the corner suddenly chimed. This time, it wasn’t a text message. An audio recording began playing automatically. A bright, youthful voice filled the room. “Michael, I secretly canceled my flight to Paris!” “I’m staying to help you build your company. If you ever betray me, I’ll break your legs!” Chapter 4 It was a voice memo I’d recorded on my eighteenth birthday ten years ago. My younger self’s bright voice echoed through the enormous master bedroom. Michael’s expression froze. He spun around and stared at the tablet’s cracked screen. A recording from ten years ago couldn’t possibly have appeared in a modern cloud backup. Not unless the tablet was really syncing with the past in real time. “Where did you get that fake recording?” Michael strode over and stomped on the tablet. The screen shattered completely. He pointed at me viciously. “Linda, you’re completely insane! “You think pulling this disgusting stunt will make me feel guilty? “Let me tell you something. It’s perfectly normal for a man to have a little fun on the side.” Chloe immediately chimed in. “Exactly, Linda. Who still plays the pathetic, devoted wife these days? “You can’t have children, and you’re crippled. Why are you still clinging to your position as Mrs. Grant?” “Chloe can give me a son. What can you do?” Michael added coldly. I stared at his expensive shoes. “Ten years ago, you said you’d rather never have children than put me through the pain of childbirth. “Now you’ve brought your secretary into our bed. “You disgust me, Michael.” Michael flew into a rage and scooped Chloe into his arms. “Clear out this bedroom. “Starting tomorrow, Linda can live in the basement. “Chloe’s pregnant. She needs a large room where she can rest, not a lunatic’s bad luck hanging over her.” With that, he carried Chloe out without looking back. The door slammed behind them, and everything fell silent. I lay on the floor, every bone in my body aching. This was the ten-year marriage I’d traded my dreams and my legs for. Like a dog, I dragged myself toward the corner and reached for the tablet. I didn’t care whether the person on the other end was real or just a hallucination. I had to tell my younger self not to cancel that flight. Go to Paris. Just as my fingers reached the shattered screen, a faint blue light appeared beneath the cracked glass. The screen was destroyed, but the system was still running. A new notification appeared through the web of broken glass. It was a photo. In it, the torn pieces of a plane ticket to Paris were being carefully taped back together. Then messages began pouring in. “Linda at Eighteen: I checked his phone.” “Linda at Eighteen: He wasn’t out meeting clients at all. He was texting his first love.” “Linda at Eighteen: He said he’d dump me as soon as he got my family’s investment.” I froze. I hadn’t known any of this ten years ago. My warning must have made my eighteen-year-old self suspicious. So she’d checked Michael’s phone. The course of fate had shifted. The past was changing. Suddenly, I burst into uncontrollable laughter. I laughed until my tears mixed with blood and splattered across the screen. Everything Michael had now, including his billion-dollar fortune, had come from me. I’d sold the mansion my parents left me to provide the startup money for his company. If my eighteen-year-old self left him and took that money to Paris, Michael would be a nobody today. Worse, he’d be buried under the massive loan-shark debt his first love had racked up. I wiped the blood from my face. Ignoring the glass embedded in my bleeding palms, I used every ounce of strength I had left to type on the shattered screen. “Linda at Twenty-Eight: Take the ticket and go to Paris.” “Linda at Twenty-Eight: Cut off every cent of funding to Michael immediately.” A green check mark appeared beside the messages. They’d gone through. Then Michael’s furious roar came from outside the bedroom. “What the hell is going on? Why has the company suddenly lost all its funding?”