When my boyfriend proposed, I broke up with him

After eight years together, I took a hit for my surgeon boyfriend.

Julian Vance vowed I could ask for anything.

Everyone assumed I'd seize the chance to propose, locking him down for good.

Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, "Let's break up."

Then I walked away without a backward glance.

Julian smirked, betting with his buddies that I'd come crawling back in under three days, calling me a desperate lapdog chasing his attention.

He was dead wrong because I'd been reborn.

In my last life, I proposed to him and won.

Overwhelmed by the news, his first love threw herself off a rooftop and killed herself.

Julian unleashed his grief-fueled rage on me.

On our wedding night, he slashed my face and locked me in a dank, claustrophobic basement.

When I got pregnant, he force-fed me supplements until the baby grew too big for me to deliver.

I hemorrhaged, torn apart, and died in agony on the birthing table.

Now, reborn on the day I saved his life, I was done playing his fool.