After This Life, We’ll Never Meet Again

Avery's POV

My husband and I had been reincarnated twice, and not once had we ever been apart.

Yet, somehow, he hated me.

Kevin Johnson hated me with a kind of quiet, bone-deep fury that no one else seemed to notice.

And I felt it every time he looked at me.

But I also knew him better than anyone ever had. I knew that under all that anger, Kevin had the softest damn heart.

He’d never admit it. He’d probably laugh in my face if I said it out loud.

But I saw it. I always saw it.

And honestly, if he didn’t have that kind of heart, how else could you explain what he did?

How could he have thrown away the ashes of Tiffany Leighton—the woman he loved so deeply—just to protect me when a group of thugs dragged me into that alley?

He died to save me.

Stabbed over and over, right there in front of me.

And still, with his last breath, Kevin reached out, gathered Tiffany’s ashes in his bloodied hand, and looked straight at me.

That smile. God, that smile.

Half cruel. Half gentle. All broken.

The kind of expression that wouldn't fade with time. One that would sink into your bones and stay there.

“Avery,” Kevin said, voice barely holding on, “I don’t regret saving you. But I hope we never meet again in the next life.”

Kevin's parents came to collect the body. They didn’t let me see him. Not even once. Not even for a second.

No goodbye. No closure. Just a slammed door and silence.

They treated me like I had put the knife in him myself.

His dad, Gregory, looked at me like I was the reason his son was on the ground.

And maybe in some twisted way, I was.

The man looked ten years older than the last time I saw him. His posture was weak, his hair turned white, reflecting the grief that had gutted him. But Gregory didn’t break. Not fully.

He just stood there, hollowed out, looking at me like I was a bad decision he never got to undo.

“If your father hadn’t made that promise to me before he died,” he said, voice low and rough, “I would’ve never stopped Kevin from marrying Tiffany. Never. But I owed him. And Kevin… Kevin kept saving your life like it meant something. Like it was fate. But this, whatever this is between you two, ends now. It has to.”

Then came Eleanor, Kevin's mom.

God, the way she looked at me like I was poison.

She didn’t yell or cry. Eleanor just stared at me with those sharp, tired eyes that had probably spent the whole night awake. Eyes that had seen their son brought home in a body bag.

“Avery,” she said, her voice cold and measured, “if you have even a shred of conscience left, let my son go. Let him rest. Don’t follow him into the next life. Don’t make him suffer for you again!”

Then Eleanor folded her hands like it was Sunday mass, and she said it.

“Please. Let him go. We’re begging you.”

——

And that? That’s what stuck. Not the blood. Not the funeral I wasn’t allowed to attend.

Not even Kevin’s last words.

That one sentence, 'Let him go,' burrowed into my head and stayed there for ten years.

So I didn’t go home, didn’t show my face, and didn’t do anything except work.

I poured every damn part of me into researching the artificial constellation sequence.

Seven Stars. Something half the world said was a fantasy.

But I made it real.

When we finally pulled it off and it finally worked, I signed up as the first test subject without hesitation.

Professor Aldridge looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Avery,” he said carefully, “even if the constellation sync holds, we don’t know the long-term damage. It could do things to your body. Things we can’t reverse. You need to really think this through.”

I just smiled, peeling off my lab coat like it was any other day. “It’s alright, Professor. I just want to see if there’s still time to fix what I broke. To make something right.”

Then I turned, hit the button, and didn’t look back.

What came next was pure agony. A powerful shockwave ripped through me, like it was trying to squeeze my soul through the tiniest hole. Then a blinding white light flashed so brightly it felt like it was burning my eyes.

And then I opened my eyes.

I was standing right outside Saint Jude’s Sanctuary. Something smooth and cool rested in my palm, a fate stone carefully crafted by the chaplains here.

At that moment, I knew exactly what day it was—the day Eleanor had begged us to return to the sanctuary and keep our promise.

“Avery,” a voice snapped beside me, irritated, “what are you spacing out for? Carve the damn thing. I don’t have all day.”

I turned around.

Kevin.

He was alive—twenty-five again. His face was full of life. No scars. No hint of death in his eyes.

My throat closed up so fast I didn’t even feel the tears until they hit my cheeks.

Kevin frowned. “Seriously? Crying over a carved, useless stone? What game are you playing now, huh? Did my mom drag me here so that you could put on this whole lovesick act?”

I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat.

I swallowed hard, bit the inside of my cheek, and forced myself to smile. “Can you go wait outside for a sec? I want to give you a surprise.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes at me, clearly suspicious, but didn’t argue. He just dropped the stone he’d already carved on the table and walked out.

I picked it up, my fingers gently tracing the familiar letters carved into the smooth, flat stone—his name, Kevin Johnson.

And then, something hit me deep inside.

Loving him the way I did never brought either of us peace. We never found happiness. All we ended up with were empty spaces, wide, aching holes where our dreams used to live.

A young chaplain walking by noticed me frozen in place.

“Miss Avery,” he said softly, “if you don’t carve your name soon, you’ll miss the last bus down the mountain.”

I blinked, nodded, and picked up the carving knife.

My hand trembled just a little as I carved the name:

Tiffany Leighton.

Stroke by stroke, line by line, I traced every letter with care.

When I finished, I set the stone down and finally let out a breath. For the first time in years, it felt like I could actually breathe.

Saint Jude’s wasn’t just any sanctuary. It was known for answering prayers about love.

If your bond were true, heaven would protect it. But if what you brought was a cursed bond, it would always turn against you. Every single time.