Three Matches and the Lies We Call Love

Before my mother passed, she left me three matches — each one capable of taking me back in time.

I used the first match to return to the night Miller was drugged.

I knocked over his spiked drink before he could touch it. He never slept with his secretary, Scarlett.

I saved our marriage.

But then, not long after, we were in a car accident. Miller threw himself over me, shielding my body with his.

His injuries were too severe. He didn't make it.

Without a second thought, I struck the second match.

We went back to before the crash, and this time, we walked away without a scratch.