One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love.

His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore."

Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?"

It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

When Christopher came home, I was gently caressing my slightly rounded belly, where our child was growing.

I was just about to share the happy news with him, but to my surprise, he came back earlier than expected.

In our ten years of marriage, it was the first time we had been so in sync.

"Honey, I’m pregnant!"

I could not stop the smile spreading across my face, already picturing him picking me up and spinning me around like they do in the dramas.

But that image never came to life. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose, his exhaustion clear. It made my heart ache.

"Phoebe, Nikki needs your bone marrow."

From the weariness in his voice, it was not hard to figure out who Nikki was. She was the woman he could never have, his one true love.

Nikki Stone had ditched Christopher for a wealthier man when he was still a broke young guy. So why was she back now?

At that time, Christopher was starting his business and desperately needed funds. I became a bar hostess, entertaining clients day and night, to the point where I drank myself into a stomach ulcer.

Eventually, I saved up enough to fund his business, and he promised me the grandest wedding.

As his wealth grew, he had me step back and become a housewife. Though he never said it, I knew he cared for me.

Thinking about all the heartache, I sniffled and couldn't help but repeat myself.

"Honey, I’m pregnant. And besides, she’s not a good person!"

He looked at me with impatience, as if I was being unreasonable.

"Phoebe, you’re just a bar hostess. This isn’t the time for you to be dramatic. Nikki needs your bone marrow."

I stared at him, shocked. Once, he had held my hand and promised me.

"Phoebe, you did it all for me. I will never look down on you."

For the first time, I refused him. Not for me, but for the child growing inside me.

His tone instantly grew cold, laced with irritation.

"Phoebe, whether you like it or not, you’re going today."

……

When I opened my eyes again, I was strapped to the operating table. For the first time, Christopher wore a faint smile, while Nikki stood nearby, pretending to be concerned.

"Christopher, will the anesthetic hurt her? It’s all my fault that she has to suffer like this!"

He had actually given me anesthesia!

Suddenly, pain tore through my belly, and tears streamed down my face.

"Honey, the baby! It hurts!"

Nikki immediately started acting weak and fragile.

"It’s all my fault, I made her suffer!"

Christopher gently comforted her, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.

"Nikki, it will never be your fault."

Then he turned to me, showing me a soft expression for the first time, speaking in a gentle, soothing tone.

"Phoebe, the doctor said you’re not pregnant. I’ll give you whatever you want from now on."

Not pregnant? Then why did it hurt so much?

His tender voice continued to coax me, whispering sweet words I had never heard before.

"Phoebe, what do you want? I’ll buy you anything."

I looked up at his face, so close to mine. With hope, I made my pitiful request.

"Honey, could you love me a little more from now on?"

I used to believe, at least a little, that Christopher loved me.

But seeing the way he tenderly comforted Nikki, that belief somehow crumbled.

I was suddenly terrified. Maybe he had never loved me at all.

Christopher's deep, magnetic voice came through, filled with an emotion I had never heard before.

"Don't say such silly things. I’m your husband. How could I not love you?"

It felt so comforting, and with that thought, I sank into a deep sleep.

……

The surgery went smoothly, and Nikki survived.

I had turned into a lonely, wandering soul, unable even to save my child.

My baby had not even fully formed yet, just a tiny embryo without a soul, leaving me to be a ghost in this world all alone.

Maybe I used up all my good luck the moment I met Christopher. Now I had died on the operating table, taking with me the child who never even got the chance to open their eyes and see the world.

That’s right, my innocent baby died with me!

I was consumed with hatred! I hated those butchers who killed my baby, and I hated those unscrupulous doctors who covered up the truth!

Christopher pressed a kiss to Nikki’s forehead, completely forgetting that just before the surgery, he had sworn he would love me.

A sharp pain shot through my chest. Wasn’t I already dead? Why could I still feel pain?

My mother-in-law, Sally Ford, rushed in, leaning against the door frame. She was out of breath, constantly wiping the sweat from her face with a handkerchief.

How ironic. She had not even attended my wedding to Christopher, claiming she was too old and frail to handle the stress.

Turned out, that was a lie too.

"Nikki is such a kind girl, nothing like that bar hostess. Good people always get their reward!"

Sally knew exactly why I became a bar hostess in the first place.

The nurse looked at this family with a mix of emotions and gestured for the doctor to speak up.

I noticed that this was not the doctor who had performed my surgery. Before I could think further, the doctor began to speak.

"Mr. Ford, Mrs. Ford has pa—"

Before the doctor could finish, Christopher cut him off impatiently.

"How much do you want? Just name your price."

Sally waved her hand dismissively, completely indifferent.

"Why are we even talking about that woman right now? Can’t you read the room?"

The doctor, remembering how I kept calling out for Christopher before I died, could not hold back and added, "Mrs. Ford was asking to see you one last time before she passed."

Christopher frowned, clearly irritated.

"Tell her to drop the act. Whatever she wants, I’ll give it to her."

"Christopher," Nikki cried, leaning into his chest.

Her tears were streaming down her face as she sobbed pitifully. "Phoebe couldn’t have died because of me, right? It’s all my fault. Just let me die!"

Christopher immediately grew concerned, softly comforting her.

"Tell her if she keeps pretending to be dead, she doesn’t need to come back.

"She’s being so dramatic. It was just a bone marrow donation, for God’s sake."

Dramatic? So risking my life to save his one true love was just being dramatic.

Suddenly, I felt like I did not know the man standing in front of me. Christopher, didn’t you say you would love me if I donated my bone marrow?

Why did my child have to die while you’re here whispering sweet words to another woman?

……

The day Nikki was discharged, Sally made a pot of rich chicken soup. The smell wafted through the air, even reaching my nose.

All these years of marriage, and I had never once tasted Sally’s cooking.

Christopher always asked me to be understanding, to be considerate of how hard it was for her to raise him all on her own.

In the end, my understanding led me to death!

As the nurse wheeled my body away, Christopher frowned and pulled Nikki close to him.

"Nikki just got out of the hospital. She cannot see something this unlucky. Hurry up and wheel it away!"

Christopher, you thought it was unlucky, didn’t you? But that was your wife and your child!

I wanted so badly to rush forward, grab him by the collar, and demand answers. But all I could do was stand there and be a pathetic bystander.

The doctor stopped him to collect the body-storage fee, and Sally immediately jumped in first and shouted.

"Everyone, look at this heartless hospital! Overcharging us like this. Isn’t this just taking advantage of us?!"

Christopher barely frowned, but I knew that expression all too well. He was disgusted. I never thought he would be disgusted by his own mother.

Money wasn’t an issue for Christopher anymore. He just wanted to avoid trouble, so he pulled out a few bills and handed them over, not even caring who took them.

"Mr. Ford, about Mrs. Ford..."

Predictably, Christopher cut the doctor off once again.

"I don’t have the patience for this game. Let her handle it on her own."

He squinted slightly, his gaze settling on the exposed finger of my body. The wedding ring he had given me was still there. It was worth less than four hundred dollars.

My heart jumped into my throat, and a shameful flicker of hope rose within me. Maybe Christopher would recognize it!

"How cheap."

His words pierced my soul.

……

Christopher’s company had plunged into its second-biggest financial crisis since its founding.

The first major crisis was caused by my father.

Back then, Christopher had just been dumped by Nikki, and I swooped in, setting aside my pride to work as a bar hostess.

My father was furious with me and caused a huge scene in front of the media.

From then on, Sally hated me, seeing me as a curse on Christopher’s life, and Christopher became cold and distant.

"If it weren’t for you, all my hard work wouldn’t have been wasted!

"Phoebe, no wonder no one loves you! You deserve it!"

What they didn’t know was that later, I threatened my father with my life. Despite being a working-class man, my father scraped together hundreds of thousands to help fund Christopher’s business.

Nikki walked into the office, sniffling and teary-eyed, only to be startled by the lunch box Christopher threw across the room.

"Who dares send trash like this to my office? Bring me food from that restaurant we used to order from!"

The assistant trembled and was too afraid to speak up.

Christopher had stomach problems, so I spent my days perfecting recipes just to get him to eat a little more.

I could not win his heart while I was alive, but somehow, after my death, I managed to win over his stomach.

"Christopher, I’ll cook for you from now on," Nikki said, tears sparkling in her eyes, playing the part of the innocent girl perfectly.

Christopher held her hand gently, giving it a tender squeeze.

"Your hands aren’t meant for things like this."

I could not help but laugh. Was I born to be his cook?

Christopher was overwhelmed with work but finally managed to find time to come home.

Everything in the house was just as it had been. Flowers I had arranged before my death still sat on the table, clothes I had hung were drying on the balcony, and the fridge was stocked with meals I had prepared.

But sadly, Christopher would never see me. Even the meals I made could only reach him through the hands of his assistant.

Looking back, I found it was clear that he never loved me.

"Phoebe, stop hiding. When you see a way out, you should learn to take it."

He spoke to the empty air, but no response came.

Christopher, who had always been pampered by me, had never experienced this kind of frustration before.

In his anger, he destroyed everything that reminded him of me.

The flowers I had planted were ripped out by their roots, the clothes I had hung were thrown carelessly on the floor, and even the meals I had cooked were dumped into the trash.

After venting his rage, he dialed my number, muttering to himself that he would give me one more chance.