I followed them all the way to Simon's house.

Aria, when I was gone, you could finally make a grand entrance, right?

No, when I was your boyfriend, you also visited Simon's house several times, staying out all night.

I looked around Simon's house, which was a lightly luxurious and cold decoration style, many times larger than my dormitory.

After taking a shower, Aria obediently sat on the edge of the bed, with wet hair dripping.

I wanted to pick up the hair dryer and dry her hair as usual, but I could never.

In my place was Simon, who was holding the hairdryer and gently stroking Aria's hair.

I wondered if his actions reminded you of me, Aria.

Simon's fingers went through Aria's hair, reaching her ears, neck, and collarbone, and then slipping into her clothes.

Aria did not refuse.

Simon kissed her, and Aria responded, a hint of blush appearing on her face.

Simon's kisses became more and more passionate, and he began to explore Aria's body.

They gradually rolled onto the bed, and Simon quickly and skillfully stripped off Aria's clothes and threw them aside.

Seeing this scene, I wished I could poke myself in the eyes.

Who was it that said that the living can't compare to the dead? Why did I have to watch my girlfriend being intimate with someone else here?

Wasn't it said that the departure of a loved one would make people remember with regret day after day?

Why did I have to suffer here even though I was already dead? Why did I have to watch my loved one betray me, turning the scenes I imagined when I was alone at home into reality?

I really regretted saving Simon, this son of a bitch.

I crashed around in the living room, but I couldn't feel the pain anymore. In the past, I used to be able to use this method occasionally to exchange for Aria's tears and keep her at home. But as time went on, it became useless. I became more and more like a clown performing a monologue, repeatedly hurting myself to prove that my loved one didn't love me.

Aria's moans reached my ears.

I remembered that rainy day when I first witnessed her cheating.

I went to pick her up at a party, but I saw her getting into an unlicensed Aston Martin.

I dialed Aria's phone number.

She actually answered.

"It's raining. I'll come pick you up."

"No... Um..."

I saw Simon suddenly leaning in to kiss her face, licking and biting the most sensitive part of her ear.

I heard her gasping on the phone, "What are you doing?"

"I'm with a friend doing aerobic exercise in the next-door gym..."

Simon smiled cunningly, unbuttoned Aria's clothes with both hands, and greedily sucked on her collarbone.

"Ah... It's been a long time since I exercised, um. I'm a bit out of breath. I'll call you later."

I watched Simon put down the seat, throw the phone to the back seat, and flirt with Aria.

They made love in the car. The sports car kept shaking, producing a dense haze in the cold rain.

I stood in the rain and thought of ten thousand possibilities, and finally returned home, pretending that nothing happened.

I was afraid of a falling out with her. I was afraid that I would leave first.

How could I give up first when she was the one who betrayed me?

Aria, how could you do it?

You had long forgotten what you said, but I hadn't.

My thoughts slowly drifted back and I found that the vibration in the room had stopped.

I heard a hoarse male voice, with displeasure.

"Your face looks terrible."

"Then get the hell off me."

Aria's voice was particularly cold.

I followed Aria back to our home.

As she opened the door, Coco ran over with its tail wagging. But it started barking at Aria unlike before.

"Coco, what's wrong with you? Why are you so cranky?"

Aria wanted to hold Coco in her arms, but she missed.

Coco stood diagonally opposite Aria with some hostility, maintaining a distance.

"Coco, come here quickly. Let me hug you!" Aria's voice gradually became aggrieved as she tried to pull Coco over by its collar. But Coco struggled desperately and ran away into the distance.

Even the dog didn't want to be close to her after I died.

Aria angrily picked up Coco's favorite doll and threw it at Coco. Coco fled away in pain.

"Even you don't want me anymore." Aria sat paralyzed on the ground and slowly lay down, her eyes closed tightly.

Aria, did you also suffer? Were you starting to miss me?

A subtle exuberance suddenly arose in my heart. I lay down beside Aria and silently watched her.

Aria lay from dawn until sunset. The setting sun fell on her body, forming a dappled light and shadow.

In the past, we often spent our time aimlessly, lying down all day like this. Because Aria once said that she liked watching the sunset and didn't want to do anything when she watched the sunset.

After a long time, Aria suddenly sat up, and I saw her packing up all my things: our photos, the movie tickets, the little notes I wrote to her, my trophies and medals that I gave her, the signed jersey of Cristiano Ronaldo that she went through a lot of trouble to get, the thermos cup we bought together, and the clothes, hats, and shoes she bought for me, the scarf she knitted for me by hand, and many, many more evidence of our love.

I squatted aside and watched those big boxes, feeling a bit smug. We had loved each other for so long, and we weren't without proof. I enthusiastically explained the origin of each item, with exaggerated and arrogant gestures. If Aria saw it, she would definitely say that I was too noisy.

Unfortunately, she couldn't hear me.

The whole room was so quiet that I could hear Aria sighing again and again.

I also felt depressed.

Aria, I thought I hated you.

But every time I started to hate you, I always remembered how good you were to me.

We had so many beautiful memories.

When I looked at these traces of our love, I realized that I didn't hate you but hated that you didn't treat me well.

I knew you loved me too, but you had given that love to others.

Was I too greedy? Or were you too cruel?