My husband and his first love were both diagnosed with cancer.

Hers was fake; mine was real. Yet, my husband refused to believe me.

Later, I was kidnapped, and the kidnapper told me, “Call your husband. If he comes, you’ll live.”

But my husband only responded, “If you want to come back, come back yourself. Don’t expect me to pick you up.”

With that, he pushed me toward my death.

When my skinless body lay in the morgue, he didn’t realize that the one lying there, never to cause trouble again, was his wife.

——

“Captain Parker, we’ve found a female corpse, and the method matches the one used in that case three years ago.”

Marcus Parker’s grip tightened around his phone as the urgent voice of one of his officers came through.

He remained serious, though seated beside him, Madeline, his childhood sweetheart, sensed something off and tugged on his sleeve. “Marcus, what’s going on?”

“A body’s been discovered, Madeline. If you’re feeling unwell, you don’t need to come with me.” He turned to her, his touch tender as he brushed a stray hair away, his concern evident in his gaze.

Madeline, however, shook her head with determination. “No, I’m coming with you. As a forensic pathologist, this is my job.”

I floated above them, watching this exchange, feeling a faint, bitter pang in my heart.

Upon arriving at the scene, Madeline immediately dove into her work, her attention focused and brows furrowed in concentration.

I observed her closely, emotions swirling inside me.

Madeline raised her head to speak to Marcus. “The time of death seems to be over three days ago. The method is almost identical to the case from three years back.”

Marcus’ expression grew more solemn upon hearing this.

His eyes swept over the body, and for a brief moment, I thought he might recognize something.

When his gaze lingered on the missing chunk of flesh on the calf, I tensed.

But then, I shook my head and smiled bitterly to myself.

Of course, I was a skinned, unrecognizable figure now. There was no way he could know this was his wife, missing for three days.

“Captain, did you find something?” an officer asked, curious.

Marcus collected himself. “Nothing,” he replied.

I snickered softly. As expected, he didn’t notice. The woman lying here wasn’t just any victim; it was his wife.

His wife, who had disappeared for three days, meant so little in his eyes that he failed to connect the dots.

“Take the body to the lab for further examination,” Marcus said, and then he gently guided Madeline back to the station.

In the car ride back, Madeline suddenly brought me up. “Marcus, I haven’t seen Caroline in a few days.”

Marcus’s eyes flickered with something briefly before returning to normal. “Don’t worry. Last time I saw her, she was threatening to leave.”

A subtle smirk played on Madeline’s lips. “You should at least call her,” she suggested.

Marcus hesitated, visibly unsure.

Seeing his reluctance, Madeline offered, “Let me call her.”

She dialed, only to be greeted by the tone of a disconnected line. Frowning, she said, “Maybe she blocked me.”

Marcus scowled at that, his irritation creeping into his voice. “Forget about her. She’s always being paranoid.”

I wasn’t paranoid – I was dead. I couldn’t answer the phone if I wanted to.

Was that also my fault?

Hovering nearby, I watched it all unfold, my heart heavy with a bitterness I couldn’t express.

Soon, my body was brought to the lab, where Madeline began her autopsy.

I floated there, observing her as she examined me with her characteristic focus, emotions tangled inside me.

The initial report came out quickly, though the DNA test would take a bit longer. Marcus stood in front of the report, his eyes locking onto the word “cancer,” a flash of confusion and disbelief crossing his face.

He moved to a quiet corner, pulling out his phone and scrolling through our old messages.

The last one from me was from years ago. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Ever since Madeline had returned to his life, we barely messaged.

Marcus typed a message but hesitated before deleting it and putting his phone away. Instead, he called my best friend, Audrey.

“Is Caroline with you? If she’s done sulking, tell her to come home,” he said, his impatience clear in his tone.

Audrey, having heard his words, didn’t hold back. “I was going to ask you! I haven’t been able to reach her for three days!”

“Three days?” Marcus’s eyes widened slightly as he hung up the phone.

He stared at my contact info on his phone for a moment before finally dialing my number, only to be met with the same disconnection tone.

At that moment, Madeline approached him. “Marcus, let’s go grab something to eat. I’m starving.”

Her voice was soft and sweet, but Marcus shook his head. “I’ve got something to take care of. Next time, okay?”

I floated beside him, watching him speak to her with such gentle affection, feeling a sharp pang in my chest.

I followed him back to our home, watching as he started rummaging through the house as if looking for something. What was he searching for?

Suddenly, he pulled out a stash of pills from my bedside drawer. I remembered when I hid those from him, telling him they were just vitamins.

He didn’t know that those pills were actually my cancer medication. Perhaps it was my fault – my lies had been so convincing that even when I told him I had cancer, he refused to believe me.

I’ll never forget the way he scoffed that night when I told him the truth. “You have cancer too? Why do you always have to copy Madeline?”

That moment shattered me. I didn’t even have the right to be sick in his eyes.

Marcus’s face grew darker as he examined the labels on the bottles. His expression became more and more troubled.

Just then, his phone rang again. “Captain Parker, Madeline fainted again. She’s been sent to the hospital.”

He froze for a moment, then shoved the pill bottles into his pocket and rushed out the door.

As I floated there, watching him run to her, my heart felt heavier than ever before.

When Marcus arrived at the hospital, Madeline had already woken up, her face pale.

He quietly stepped into the room, placing the takeout container on the bedside table.

“You’re awake? I brought you some soup,” he said softly. He opened the container, releasing the fragrant steam into the air.

Carefully, he scooped up a spoonful, blew on it gently, and held it up to Madeline’s lips.

Madeline parted her lips slightly, allowing him to feed her.

I hovered in the air, watching this scene unfold, a surge of emotions welling up inside me.

Envy, bitterness, and an overwhelming sense of heartache.

I had once longed for this kind of care and tenderness, only to be let down time and time again by reality.

I thought back to the days when I lay alone in the hospital undergoing chemotherapy. Marcus had no idea.

I was too afraid of burdening his work at the police station, so I faced the pain alone.

Sometimes, when I was hungry, I’d just grab a piece of bread to get by. There was never anything like this.

As I watched Marcus gently care for Madeline, the ache in my heart intensified.

I had once been his wife, the person closest to him, yet this tenderness now belonged to someone else.

After a few spoonfuls of soup, Madeline whispered, “I’m full.”

Marcus took a wet tissue and carefully wiped the corners of her mouth, tucking her blanket in.

He stood, preparing to leave, but Madeline grabbed his hand.

“Stay with me until I fall asleep, please,” she said softly, her voice pleading.

Marcus hesitated for a moment, but eventually, he nodded and sat back down.

I stood there, watching their interaction, my emotions in turmoil.