His mom looked at him as if he had just spoken in a foreign language. "Evan, you're not married."
The world spun. Evan felt like he was being pulled into a void.
No. This can't be. Michelle is real.
He clenched the blanket tighter. "Ma, we… we met her family. We got engaged. We got married! I remember it all!"
His mom simply looked at him with pity. "Sweetheart, it's probably just the effect of the accident. You need to rest, okay?"
A ringing buzz filled Evan's ears. Her voice felt distant.
His hand trembled as he reached for the phone on the bedside table. The screen was black—dead battery. He reached toward his mother.
"Ma… please… charger."
She sighed but handed him a charger from her bag. With shaking hands, Evan plugged it in.
When the phone finally turned on, his heart nearly exploded.
Michelle was gone.
Her contact—gone. Their chats—gone. Their photos—gone. Every record, every proof of her existence—vanished.
Evan clutched the phone tightly.
He stared at the screen, his eyes empty.
Michelle had truly disappeared.
Panic surged in his chest. His fingers flew through the contact list. No Vanessa. No Celline.
He searched old chats. Nothing.
His fingers trembled as he opened his photo gallery. Not a single photo of Michelle. No wedding pictures. No trace the girl had ever been part of his life.
It made no sense.
His breath quickened. He dialed Michelle's number from memory.
The number you have dialed is not in service.
His heart pounded harder. He searched for "Michelle William" on social media.
Nothing. As if she had never been born.
No. No. No. This can't be happening!
The door opened again. A doctor entered with a nurse, checking his chart. His mom stood by, watching Evan with concern.
"Doctor… I… I need to see Michelle," Evan said hoarsely, almost whispering.
The doctor frowned. "Who's that, Mr. Evan?"
Evan stared at him wide-eyed. "My wife."
The doctor exchanged a glance with his mom, then smiled gently, as though speaking to a delusional patient.
"Mr. Evan, you're not married."
Evan's blood turned to ice.
He shook his head firmly. No. This was wrong. This couldn't be happening.
Just weeks ago, he had held Michelle. Felt the baby move inside her. She was real.
Evan clutched at his hair.
No! Don't tell me it's happening again!
"Mom, do you remember Aunt Mirna?"
His mom gave him a confused look. "Who's Mirna?"
Evan's heart dropped. No. No, this couldn't be.
"Aunt Mirna, Ma!" he repeated, more desperate. "Michelle's mom!"
His mom kept looking puzzled. "Evan, you must still be confused. I don't know anyone named Mirna."
No. No. It's happening again.
Evan struggled to breathe. Michelle… Aunt Mirna… their baby… gone.
Just like Raka.
His eyes burned. His jaw clenched. He turned to the doctor, his gaze sharp.
"Doctor," his voice was low, shaking with anger and despair, "how long was I in a coma?"
The doctor seemed surprised by Evan's intensity, but answered calmly, "Two weeks, Mr. Evan. Today is January 4th, 2019."
So it was true. Everything had disappeared.
Evan gripped the blanket on his lap.
Michelle…
Their baby…
Their marriage…
Their love…
All gone, like it never existed.
Evan was discharged a few days later. The family car picked him up and took him back to his parents' house—a place that now felt strangely unfamiliar.
The scent of the house hadn't changed—wood and a touch of lavender from Mom's diffuser. But something was missing. Michelle…
His mom helped him onto the couch. "If you need anything, let me know, okay? You still need rest."
Evan nodded faintly. Rest? What he needed was answers.
He pulled out his phone, searching for any trace. Michelle's contact? Gone. Messages? Erased. Wedding photos? Empty.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
This had happened before.
But this time… Michelle… their baby…
His gaze fell to his hand.
The ring.
His ring finger was bare. No wedding band. No proof they were ever married.
Then he remembered something.
The ring from 2016.
The one that had once mysteriously changed to say "Evan–Michelle."
He rushed to his room, opened the drawer where he kept old things. His hands dug through it, searching for the ring box.
After what felt like forever, he found it. His hands shook as he opened the lid.
The ring was still there.
But… the engraving was gone.
As if the marriage had never happened.
He gripped his wallet tightly. His breath was ragged.
January 1st, 1994.
He was 25 years old.
Again.
For the fifth time.
His eyes locked on the date. His heart pounded—not from his injuries, but from the crushing realization.
Michelle… their baby… gone.
Everything he lived through last year—all the joy, the hope—gone.
He clutched his hair. "Damn it… DAMN IT!" He hurled his wallet to the floor.
His mom rushed into the room, alarmed. "Evan? What's wrong?"
He turned to her, his face full of anguish.
But how could he explain?
That he was trapped in this loop?
That Michelle—his wife—no longer existed?
That their baby… might never have been born?
His eyes welled up, but he held the tears back.
Just like four years ago, he was alone again.
His mom had just mentioned her plan to host a thanksgiving service and prayer gathering at home to celebrate Evan's recovery.
Evan still sat at the edge of his bed, his mind racing, but he tried to focus on something else.
"Ma… remember Reza's wedding?" he asked, something suddenly coming to mind.
His mom nodded. "Yes, why?"
"The food was great, right? Let's use that catering service!"
His mom thought for a moment, then smiled. "Oh, yes! It was really good! Can you contact them?"
Evan nodded, picking up his phone. He hesitated a moment, then texted Reza.
"Za, do you still remember the caterer from your wedding? I want to book them for Mom's event at home."
He waited, tapping his fingers anxiously. Was that caterer still around? Was Laras still running it?
Suddenly, his phone rang. Reza.
"Hey Evan! Feeling better?" Reza's voice was cheerful.
"Yeah, getting there."
"You're serious about the caterer? I think so, but I need to ask Laras first. She handles all the bookings."
Laras still exists.
Evan exhaled in relief, but also felt cautious. If Laras was around, that meant…
Sienna must be around too.
And her chilling words, "Until someday I kill Uncle Evan" might still stand.
He waited as Reza said he'd check with Laras. Would she even agree to take a booking from his family?
A few minutes later, Reza texted back.
"Laras said okay, but there's one condition: you can't be involved. Orders go through me or your mom only."
Evan gave a crooked smile. Of course. Laras would never want to deal with him directly.
"Okay. Mom will handle the details," he replied.
Message sent, but his mind kept spinning.
If Laras still existed, Sienna surely did too.
And that meant… her grudge might still be alive.
The thanksgiving event at Evan's house was festive. It wasn't just a celebration of his survival—it was also his 25th birthday.
His mom invited many people—family, close friends, and coworkers. The living room and backyard buzzed with conversation, laughter, and the mouth-watering aroma of food.
In the corner, Evan saw the catering staff setting up dishes. Among them, one girl caught his eye. Sienna.
Now 16, she looked even more beautiful in her catering uniform. Her neatly tied hair gave her a mature look, but something in her eyes—a deep, mysterious gaze—reminded Evan of the threat she once whispered on the day of a wedding that no longer existed in this reality.
"Happy birthday, Uncle Evan," Sienna said suddenly, not even turning as she continued arranging plates.
Her tone was casual, but Evan could feel something beneath the words.
Cold.