My Future Self Called Never Choose Those Brothers Chapter 01

I received an impossible phone call—from myself, ten years in the past.

On the other end of the line, eighteen-year-old Chloe Winslow’s voice was bursting with excitement.

“Twenty-eight-year-old Chloe, who did you end up marrying? Was it the gentle and steady Adrian Shaw, or the wild and passionate Brody Shaw?”

I looked down at the scar left by my missing finger and let out a soft, bitter laugh.

“Neither.”

The other end went dead silent for a moment.

“You’re lying. Adrian said he would protect me for the rest of my life, and Brody said he’d destroy anyone who ever dared to cross me.”

I closed my eyes tightly.

“Later on, they were the very ones who destroyed you. They both fell in love with Daisy Sutton, the daughter of our live-in housekeeper. To clear her way into the Winslow family, they murdered Dad. To make her happy, they burned down the Winslow Estate. In that fire, you lost your beautiful right eye.”

The eighteen-year-old Chloe on the phone clearly panicked.

“How is that even possible…”

I gripped my phone, using every last ounce of my strength to speak.

“Chloe, don’t choose either of them. Run as far away as you can. This time, don’t look back.”

******

The call disconnected, and the small diner fell silent again.

I lowered my head and continued flipping the burgers on the greasy flat-top grill.

My left ring finger was missing a knuckle, making it hard to grip the spatula properly.

A customer waiting at the counter tapped his fingers impatiently against the wood.

“Hey, can you hurry it up? It’s just a basic burger.”

I kept my eyes downcast and murmured softly, “Coming right up.”

Once upon a time, Chloe Winslow was the pampered princess of the Winslow family.

Adrian used to tell me that my hands were meant for playing the piano, painting masterpieces, and wearing diamonds, not for touching grease and smoke.

Brody was different but just as fierce.

If I got a minor splash of hot oil on my skin, he would yell at the chef until the man wept.

If anyone looked at me the wrong way, he would sneer coldly, “You want to keep those eyes?”

Back then, with one of them on each side of me, I genuinely believed that no one in this world would ever have the heart to let me suffer.

But now, I ran a tiny, hundred-square-foot roadside diner.

With a mutilated hand, I served eight-dollar burgers to complete strangers.

The man finally lost his patience and spat out a curse.

“Slow as molasses. No wonder this place is empty.”

His eyes scanned the right side of my face, lingering briefly on the thick gauze covering my right eye before turning away in disgust.

“Fucking freak. You shouldn’t be out here scaring people at night.”

I said nothing as my phone vibrated in my pocket.

It was a text from eighteen-year-old Chloe.

[Are you lying to me? Adrian just sent me a gorgeous designer gown, and Brody said that no matter who I choose at the engagement party tonight, he’ll always protect me. They still seem to love me so much.]

Looking at those lines, my fingertips went completely numb.

I used to believe them too.

I believed in Adrian’s eternal gentleness and Brody’s fierce favoritism.

But later, Adrian used that same gentle voice to force me into signing over all my Winslow equity.

And Brody took the very hand that had once taken a blade for me and personally hacked off my ring finger.

They told me, “Chloe, Daisy grew up with absolutely nothing. You’ve already had so much in life. Why can’t you just let her win for once?”

I closed my eyes.

I had listened to those exact words for seven years.

Yielding a dress, yielding my bedroom, yielding my mother’s ring.

I kept giving things up until I almost gave up my very life.

Just as I was about to type a reply, the bell above the door jingled.

A man wearing a dark jacket walked in.

“Hey, can I get a burger to go?”

As I bent down to grab a fresh patty, he suddenly spoke up, hesitating.

“Chloe? Is that really you?”

His gaze fell upon the bandage over my right eye, then slid down to my severed finger.

His voice turned into a mixture of awkwardness and pity.

“How… how did you end up flipping burgers here?”