Dying to Make You Regret

1 The day before our wedding, Nathan Hayes walked into the penthouse, his face gray and his eyes bloodshot, and told me his tech firm had cratered. He was forty million dollars in debt. When I tried to reach for him, he slapped my hand away. "You and your goddamn 'lucky charm' nonsense," he spat, his voice trembling with venom. "You’re not a blessing, Leah. You’re a curse." The words lodged in my throat like broken glass. I wanted to tell him the truth—that the celestial ledger tied to my soul, the blessing system I’d carried since I was eighteen, was real. That every piece of good fortune he’d ever enjoyed had come from me. But the rules bound my tongue. You cannot explain magic to someone who has already decided you are a plague. Besides, I already carried the crushing weight of too many ruined lives. My brother, David, had been on track to become one of the premier neurosurgeons on the East Coast. Three years ago, he’d taken a blade to his right wrist protecting me from a mugger, severing tendons and ending his surgical career before it truly began. Jesse Dawson, my childhood best friend, had possessed a once-in-a-generation voice. He was on the verge of signing a major record deal when he drank a bottle of iced tea I had mistakenly handed him—tainted with industrial cleaning agent from an open supply closet—shredding his vocal cords forever. Neither of them yelled at me. They didn't have to. They simply packed their belongings and retreated to a quiet, secluded estate two hours outside the city, leaving me in the hollow silence of my own guilt. Even Nathan, after offering a hollow apology for his outburst, disappeared into high-risk offshore private security contracts for three agonizing years, returning only once a month with fresh scars and empty eyes. When he came back last week, bleeding through his shirt from a cracked rib, the guilt finally broke me. I dropped to my knees in the dark and called out to the System. Take the rest of my life, I pleaded. Give them their dreams. Give them absolute, unbroken fortune. Just let them be whole. The System was silent. I took the silence as a deal struck. The next morning, wanting to say one final, quiet goodbye before my time ran out, I drove up the winding driveway to David’s country house. I stepped out of the car, the crisp morning air catching in my lungs, and froze. Nathan was there on the manicured lawn. He was down on one knee, laughing under the golden sunlight, catching a toddler who ran toward him squealing, "Daddy!" The blood drained from my face. The child was Toby—the three-year-old son of my closest friend, Vanessa Clarke. Before I could process the scene, David walked out from the veranda carrying a toy stethoscope. With his supposedly crippled right hand, he effortlessly scooped Toby into the air, tossing him up with absolute strength and precision. "Uncle Dr. Miller is going to fix you right up, buddy," David teased, his laugh rich and easy. Jesse stepped out behind him, holding a mug of coffee. He clapped Nathan on the shoulder, and when he spoke, his voice was pure silver—smooth, melodic, and completely unmarred. "I’ve booked the theater downtown for Vanessa’s private showcase," Jesse said. "How much longer are we going to keep Leah in the dark?" Nathan leaned back against a cedar post, checking a rose-gold Audemars Piguet on his wrist—a watch worth more than a suburban house. "She owes Vanessa everything," Nathan said lazily. "We can keep it from her for the rest of her life for all I care." My mind spun into a terrifying void. Then, a mechanical chime echoed in my skull. [Fortune mission completed. The three designated subjects have achieved their deepest desires. Please select whether to initiate world departure.] The air left my chest in a strangled gasp. My hand shoved against the wrought-iron gate, the metal screeching against the stone pillar. "Three years wasn't enough?" My voice shook so violently it barely sounded like my own. "You were going to lie to me forever?" The three men froze. The easy, sunlit warmth evaporated from their faces. "Leah..." Nathan stammered, stepping forward instinctively, his posture suddenly defensive. "What are you doing here?" I stared at the pristine watch glittering on his wrist. "If I hadn't come, how would I know you’re playing father to Vanessa’s kid? How would I know the three of you have been running a con on me for three years?" I turned my stinging eyes toward Jesse. "Your voice sounds just as beautiful as it did three years ago, Jesse. What happened to the destroyed vocal cords?" Jesse’s face went chalk-white. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. "Enough!" Nathan barked, stepping between us. The initial panic on his face hardened into a strange, defensive relief. "Fine. Now you know. It was my idea. Don't drag Vanessa into this." Before he could finish, the front door clicked open, and Vanessa came rushing down the steps. Tears streamed down her delicate, porcelain cheeks. She threw her arms around my elbow, her grip digging painfully into my skin. "Leah, please! It’s my fault," she sobbed. "I don’t have much time left. The doctors gave me three years, and they only wanted to give me some peace before the end. Blame me. Don't be mad at Nathan. You have no idea how hard it was for him to hide this from you." How hard it was for him? I had spent three years trapped in a suffocating spiral of clinical depression, choking down handfuls of antidepressants, waking up screaming from nightmares about severed tendons and ruined throats. And I was supposed to pity him? "What do you mean, you don't have much time left?" I asked, pulling my arm away from her pinching fingers. Vanessa flinched, burying her face in her hands. Nathan immediately wrapped a protective arm around her waist, glaring at me as if I were a monster. David stepped down from the porch, handing the toddler to Jesse. His eyes were cold as slate. "You really have the nerve to ask?" David sneered. "Vanessa is the one with the gift of fortune. She gave us our careers, our breakthroughs, our success. And you took credit for all of it. Because of your stolen glory, the cosmic balance turned on her. She took the karmic backlash that belonged to you, and now she only has three years to live." Nathan nodded, his jaw clenched tight. "Your lies stole the love and care that belonged to Vanessa. We don't owe you a damn thing, Leah. You owe her a lifetime." The absurdity of it hit me like a physical blow. Vanessa had stolen my truth. When I’d tried to tell them years ago about the System, they had laughed at me, calling it a childish fairy tale. But when Vanessa claimed it? They treated it like gospel. "Vanessa is lying to you!" I yelled. "Shut up!" David snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer irritation. "You owe her everything. Since you know the truth now, you stay here. You take care of her." Jesse nodded in quiet agreement. "You’re her best friend. You know her dietary restrictions better than anyone." Nathan pulled a folded piece of paper from his linen shirt and shoved it against my chest. "If you want to atone, you take care of Toby, too. Here’s his schedule. Don't screw it up." A babysitter. A maid. I looked at the three men I had loved more than my own life, and a wild, bitter laugh bubbled up from my chest. I tore the paper in half, then in quarters, and let the pieces flutter onto the grass. "I just traded my remaining life to the universe so you could have everything you ever wanted," I whispered, my voice breaking. "And you want me to serve your mistress and her bastard? How can you be this cruel?" My knees gave out. I collapsed onto the lawn, completely hollowed out. The floating interface appeared in my peripheral vision. With a trembling finger, I tapped Confirm Departure. [Request received. 24-hour countdown initiated. Warning: Pregnancy detected. Host may choose the method of termination and physical departure at any point within the window.] My ears rang with a deafening buzz. Pregnant. During the three years of his fake bankruptcy, Nathan had come home only once a month, sneaking into my bed in the dead of night, smelling of cheap soap and exhaustion. Why now? Why when everything was already dead? Seeing my manic mix of tears and laughter, David’s irritation flared into outright rage. He grabbed my arm and hoisted me to my feet. "Stop acting," David hissed. "Vanessa and Nathan are legally married. They have been for years. You’re the outsider here, Leah. You’re the interloper." "No," I choked out, staring at Nathan. "That’s impossible." Every single time Nathan had left our apartment, while I lay half-asleep against his shoulder, he had whispered in my ear: Wait for me, Leah. The second I clear this debt, I’m putting a ring on your finger. "Let's make sure you understand reality," David said, dragging me toward the main house. For three years, David had forbidden me from going up to the second floor, claiming his depression made him sensitive to anyone entering his private space. Now, he dragged me up the hardwood stairs and threw open the master suite doors. I froze. The walls were covered in framed photographs. There was Nathan, smiling broadly, fastening a three-carat diamond necklace around Vanessa’s neck. There was David, lifting Toby onto his shoulders at a theme park. There was Jesse, holding an acoustic guitar, singing to Vanessa while she reclined on an outdoor daybed. While I was swallowing handfuls of sertraline in a dark apartment, blaming myself for their ruined lives, they were building a paradise without me. Then my eyes locked onto the centerpiece above the mantle. It was a life-sized wedding portrait. Nathan was holding Vanessa close, looking down at her with pure, unfiltered adoration. Vanessa was wearing an ivory silk gown with hand-embroidered French lace along the bodice. It was the bespoke wedding gown my late mother had spent six months designing and sewing for me before she died of cancer. "Why is she wearing my mother's dress?" A scream tore from my throat. I spun around, lunging at Nathan. "Why did you give my mother’s dress to her?!" Nathan caught my wrists easily, his expression flat and bored. "You weren't using it. And considering what you stole from Vanessa, a dress doesn't even begin to cover the debt." "I stole nothing from her!" Tears blurred my vision. "If you loved her, you could have just told me! Why stage a bankruptcy? Why fake David's hand? Why fake Jesse's voice? Why torture me for three years?!" "Because if you weren't buried in guilt, you would have clung to us every single day!" Nathan yelled back, his patience snapping. "We just wanted to give Vanessa our undivided attention during her final years. You have your whole life ahead of you, Leah. We have plenty of time later. We’re willing to let your lies go, so stop making a scene." Jesse frowned from the doorway. "Vanessa always let you have your way when we were kids, Leah. Can’t you just let her have this once?" David checked his watch, his tone brisk and clinical. "Today is Toby's third birthday. Go to the kitchen and start prepping the food." I turned slowly. On the mahogany dining table sat an elaborate, two-tier birthday cake. The countdown in my vision ticked down: 23:00:00. I wiped the wetness from my cheeks, feeling something inside me snap clean in two. "There is no 'later' for us," I said softly. I turned to walk down the stairs, but Vanessa darted forward, grabbing my sleeve with frantic strength. "Leah, please! I know you hate me," she wailed, leaning into me. "I’ll take Toby and leave! Don't let me come between you and the boys—" I stared into her wide, theatrical eyes. "Vanessa," I whispered, "three years ago, you told me some deadbeat knocked you up and vanished. I watched your kid for you. I bought your groceries. Were you laughing at what an idiot I was the entire time?" Vanessa’s lower lip trembled. She leaned back, putting on that helpless, fragile face that always made men want to wage wars for her. "She’s literally dying, Leah!" Nathan roared from the top of the landing. "And you’re still tormenting her?!" I looked at the three of them—men who once would have burned the world if I scraped a knee. When I awoke the blessing system at eighteen, my task had been simple: channel fortune to help three good souls achieve their dreams. Nathan grew up in foster care, his parents having died because they couldn't afford insulin; he wanted to build wealth to fund community healthcare. David wanted to be a surgeon to save lives. Jesse just wanted to make music that made lonely people feel less alone. The closer I stayed to them, the faster their luck manifested. When Nathan closed his first seed round, he carried me through the streets in the rain, shouting, You’re my lucky star, Leah. Half of everything I ever build belongs to you. When David matched into his dream residency, he gave me a piggyback ride around the hospital courtyard until the security guards chased us. When Jesse sold out his first theater, he dedicated the entire encore to me. I gave them their miracles. And the moment they got them, they turned their weapons on me. "The blessing system only brings fortune," I said, looking straight at Vanessa. "It has no karmic backlash—" Before the word left my mouth, Vanessa’s hands shoved hard against my chest. My heel caught the edge of the polished hardwood step. I tipped backward, tumbling down the flight of stairs, my body crashing violently against the marble foyer below. A sharp, searing agony ripped through my lower abdomen. "Leah!" Nathan and David’s faces went white. They took two steps down the stairs. Vanessa instantly collapsed against the banister, sobbing hysterically. "Leah, why would you do that? If you hate me so much, I’ll leave! You didn't have to throw yourself down just to frame me!" Nathan froze on the middle step, his outstretched hand stalling in mid-air. David shoved past him, staring down at me with disgust. "Leah, you are genuinely sickening. We tried to give you a chance to make amends. If you’re going to pull this pathetic, manipulative crap, get the hell out." Once, if I so much as sneezed, David would haul out his diagnostic kit and fret over me for hours. Now, cold sweat soaked my hairline as wave after wave of tearing pain ripped through my uterus. I dragged myself an inch forward, my bloody fingers catching the cuff of Nathan’s trousers. "Nathan... please. I’m pregnant. Call an ambulance." Jesse leaned over the railing upstairs, his lip curled. "If you were pregnant, there’d be blood everywhere. Give it a rest." I was wearing a thick, black wool skirt. The warm, sticky fluid pooling between my thighs was invisible against the fabric. Nathan took a deliberate step backward. My fingers slipped from his hem. He had once told me he could read my soul just by the tilt of my chin. Now, he looked down at me with eyes as dead as winter ice. Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision, swallowing the pain whole. When I opened my eyes, the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room stung my retinas. Countdown: 00:30:00. Nathan sat on the edge of the plastic visitor chair, his eyes ringed in red. "Leah. The baby... they couldn't save it." A hollow ache settled in my chest. Even knowing I couldn't keep it, the loss felt like a physical amputation. Jesse stood by the window, his jaw tight, looking away. David walked in, scanning a clipboard, and let out an audible sigh of relief. "Well, it’s just as well. Your height, weight, and metabolic markers are an exact match for Vanessa’s. It works out. You can run the preliminary human trial for her new compound." I stared at my brother, struggling to comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. "What?" "I’ve spent the last three years synthesizing a targeted cellular stabilizer for Vanessa," David explained smoothly. "Her system is fragile. We can't risk an adverse reaction. You’ll take the primary dose first so I can monitor metabolic tolerance." "You’re worried about her safety..." My voice cracked, raw and dry. "...so you want to test an unapproved chemical on your sister who just had a miscarriage?" David looked away for a fraction of a second. Nathan leaned forward, his tone reasonable, like an adult explaining something to a stubborn child. "Vanessa has a compromised constitution, Leah. You’ve always been resilient. Even if there are mild side effects, David is a doctor. He’ll treat you." I gripped the rough hospital sheets, tasting copper in the back of my throat. "What if I told you I’m dying? Would you still force me to swallow it?" Jesse flinched. "Leah, stop being dramatic." David let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Drop the act, Leah. While you were sedated after the D&C, I ran a full metabolic panel and comprehensive tox screen. Your organs are fine. You’re completely healthy." Nathan stood up, his jaw set in stone. "You’ve gotten so bitter, Leah. Refusing to help your childhood friend when her life is on the line." "Over my dead body," I whispered. "I will never take a pill for Vanessa Clarke." I swung my legs over the edge of the bed to stand, but Nathan grabbed my bicep in an iron grip. "You have twenty minutes to think it over," Nathan said, his voice dropping into a dangerous chill. "If you delay Vanessa’s treatment, we will administer it by force." Without another word, the three of them walked out, letting the heavy door click shut. Countdown: 00:15:00. The System chimed softly: [Host, please finalize your method of departure.] Tears tracked silently down my temple. Before I could reply, the door clicked open again. Vanessa walked in, holding a basket of fresh berries. She set them on the bedside table and smiled—a sharp, triumphant little smirk. "How did you convince them?" I asked quietly. "Does it matter?" She smoothed down her designer sweater. "What matters is that they don't love you anymore. By the way... do you remember that pregnancy you lost three years ago? Right before Nathan's company 'failed'?" My breath hitched. Three years ago, right when the string of accidents started, I had discovered I was four weeks pregnant. Terrified by the chaos around me, I had only told Vanessa. Days later, I suffered a sudden, violent miscarriage. I had buried the trauma so deep I rarely let myself think of it. "Nathan slipped the abortifacient into your soup," Vanessa whispered, her eyes dancing with malice. "And your brilliant brother was the one who wrote the off-label prescription." "You’re lying," I choked out. "They threw you away for me, Leah. Why is that so hard to believe?" She slipped a velvet folder from her purse and tossed it onto my lap. Inside was a certified marriage certificate dated three years ago. "Nathan married me the very day you were bleeding in that ER bed. Because that was the day I told him I was carrying Toby." The date on the document burned into my retinas. A wave of pure, unadulterated fury surged through my veins. I lunged forward, shoving her away to grab the papers. Vanessa deliberately twisted her ankle, falling backward with a theatrical crash right as the door swung open. Nathan stormed in, shoving me back onto the mattress so hard my head slammed the wall. "What is wrong with you?! She came here to make peace!" David followed, holding a small amber vial with a single white capsule inside. I curled on the bed, clutching my aching stomach, and glared up at my brother with everything I had left. "Did you give Nathan the drugs to kill my first baby three years ago?" David stopped dead in his tracks. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, instantly replaced by a sneer. "You mean the pregnancy you fabricated to guilt-trip us after you pushed Vanessa down the stairs back then? Give it a rest, Leah." He unscrewed the cap and held the capsule toward my face. "Take it," David said coldly. "Once Vanessa recovers, we can go back to being a family. We’ll take care of you." Jesse stepped up behind him. "I learned how to cook macrobiotic meals for Vanessa. I’ll cook for you, too." Nathan crossed his arms, saying nothing. Countdown: 00:01:00. [Host, time is almost up.] I looked at the capsule in my brother's hand. I looked at Nathan’s cold detachment. I looked at Jesse’s passive complicity. In my mind, I spoke to the System: I want to die by my brother's hand. And I want Nathan and Jesse to watch. [Confirmed. Method locked.] I looked up at David, a wet, broken smile spreading across my lips. "You want me to test your medicine? Fine. Feed it to me yourself." David sighed, annoyed by the theatrics, but leaned down and pressed the pill between my lips. "You’re so exhausting, Leah." Countdown: 00:00:10. I swallowed the capsule. David stepped back, exhaling in relief. Nathan’s shoulders dropped slightly. "Good. We’ll take you home tonight." [Departure protocol initiating. Three. Two—] Before the final second ticked away, I looked at the three of them and let out a soft, final laugh. "Goodbye forever." The vessel inside my chest ruptured. A torrent of dark, crimson blood erupted from my mouth, splashing across Nathan’s shirt and my brother's hands. Nathan’s scream was the last thing I heard before the light went out.