After I Died,My Disloyal Husband Became Depressed

When the wicked men tore into my heart and internal organs savagely, I was still holding the phone tightly, trying to ask Steve Harrington for help. Steve was my husband.

“I told you not to bother me,Even if you die out there, don't call me!” Steve barked before cutting the call.

As I listened to the call being hung up, the last bit of hope in my eyes died out.

The next second, with a hideous grin, the man stabbed the dagger into my stomach.

——

Today was supposed to be a day of celebration—our five-year wedding anniversary.

I had been home all day, waiting for Steve to return from work, filled with excitement.

The news I received earlier was too good to keep to myself: after years of trying, we were finally going to have a baby.

The pregnancy test had come back positive, and I couldn’t wait to share the joy with Steve.

When I first heard the news, I called him immediately from the hospital, but he didn’t pick up. Figuring he was busy, I sent him the news via text, expecting an overjoyed response. But nothing came.

I rushed home afterward, eager to prepare a special dinner for Steve. I cooked all his favorite meals, set them out on the table, and waited. Hours passed, and the food grew cold, but my anticipation kept me warm.

Finally, Steve called. But instead of coming home, he said he was swamped with work and wouldn’t be able to make it. He asked me to meet him at a restaurant near his office instead, promising to slip out for a bit. I was a little surprised he hadn’t mentioned the pregnancy, but I brushed it off, thinking maybe he wanted to talk about it in person.

As usual, being the stupid wife in love, I hurriedly left the house. I arrived at the restaurant, waiting anxiously, but then a text message buzzed on my phone. Steve said he couldn’t make it after all—too much work, he claimed.

Anger surged through me. I sent him a flurry of texts, pouring out my frustration and disappointment, but all of them were ignored. Deep down, I knew where he probably was.

Dejected and annoyed, I wandered the streets aimlessly, the city lights blurring through my tears. I had given everything to this marriage, only to be left alone on a night that should have been special.

Suddenly, out of the shadows, a group of men appeared, their faces masked by the night. Before I could react, they grabbed me, dragging me into a dark alley. Panic set in as they began beating me mercilessly, their fists and boots raining down on me with brutal force. They targeted my stomach, as if they knew exactly where to strike.