I was a transmigrator who came to this world to complete a mission.

My mission was simple—marry Harriet.

The year I met her, we were both rookies in the police force's bomb disposal unit. At that time, Jeremy had abruptly broken up with her before leaving for abroad, and Harriet was in a constant daze.

I stayed by her side at all times. Slowly, I helped her heal and get over the heartbreak.

Three years later, our relationship progressed naturally, and we got married. With that, my mission was successfully completed. The system rewarded me by allowing me to remain in this world and gave me two chances to be resurrected.

By then, I had truly fallen in love with Harriet.

I believed that honesty was important between husband and wife, so I told her everything about the system without reservation.

I had even said jokingly, "No matter what happens, I won't die. I'll stay with you until we're old."

But I never expected that this statement would ultimately become my undoing.

Not long after we got married, Jeremy returned from abroad. Putting on a pitiful act, he told Harriet that his departure back then was entirely due to his parents' wishes. He kept explaining to her how he couldn't defy them.

Harriet believed him without question. She seemed to have forgotten the pain that Jeremy had caused her back then. After that, she started following him around, showering him with care and concern.

When Jeremy was critically injured in a car accident, and his life was hanging by a thread, Harriet tearfully begged me to use the system to save him.

Seeing Harriet's face covered in tears tugged at my heartstrings. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel any heartache when she wept so mournfully.

My wife was shedding tears for another man. Of course I'd feel aggrieved and angry!

But I loved Harriet so deeply that I couldn't refuse her request. And so, I used my first resurrection chance to save Jeremy.

Last year, after Harriet defused a bomb and was preparing to return to the team, she was shot in the heart by a retaliating criminal. By the time she was rushed to the hospital, the doctor only took one look at her before issuing a death notice.

I couldn't bear the thought of losing her. Without hesitation, I used my last resurrection chance to save her.

Before reviving her, the system repeatedly asked me, "This is your last chance. Are you sure you won't regret this decision?"

I replied firmly, "I'm sure. I won't regret this no matter what."

The system complied, and from that moment onward, it never appeared again.

At that time, I assumed Harriet's feelings for Jeremy were just an obsession. I believed that with time, she would eventually come to her senses and return to our family with time. I also firmly believed we could grow old together.

But now, the cruel reality had dealt me a devastating blow.

It turned out Harriet had always loved Jeremy. My belief that Harriet reciprocated my feelings and loved me as I loved her was nothing more than my fantasy.

Jeremy looked at Harriet like he had something to say, but he ultimately held himself back.

Harriet tapped his forehead lightly and spoke in a doting tone. "Come on, Jeremy. Is there anything that you can't tell me?"

Jeremy clenched his fists wordlessly as if mustering his courage to speak. Finally, he said, "Hatty, Aaron has always been the ace of the bomb disposal unit. With you assisting him this time, how could the bomb have exploded? Could it be that…"

He trailed off and didn't finish his sentence, leaving room for endless speculation.

A wave of fury surged within me, and I clenched my hands into fists. I fervently wished that I could charge forward and give him a good punch.

Even after my death, Jeremy was still trying to besmirch me at every turn. He was planting seeds of doubt in Harriet's mind.

As a police officer, I understood my duty and never allowed personal feelings to interfere with my work. Even though I already knew Harriet didn't love me, I thought she would at least trust my character after six years of working together.

But Harriet's words shattered the faint hope I had been clinging to.

"I knew it! How else could the bomb have suddenly exploded when it was being defused properly? Aaron must've done it on purpose to harm you. I'm going to report him—he's not fit to be a police officer!" she exclaimed, her face flushed with anger.

I had no doubt that if I appeared before her now, she would slap me and berate me viciously without hesitation.

Bitterness filled my heart.

Had I overestimated my place in Harriet's heart? Or was Jeremy so important to her that she would believe anything he said?

Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Six years of working together couldn't earn me even a sliver of her trust. In her eyes, I was nothing more than a despicable and shameless man.

But I still remembered the touching words she had said at our wedding, "You're not just my husband—you're my lifelong partner in arms."

Now, with just a few words from Jeremy, she could forget those heartfelt words like they carried no weight at all.

I wondered if she would regret the things she had said then when she learned of my death.

Harriet paced back and forth in the room. Her anger simmered, and she needed an outlet to vent her fury. So, she pulled out her phone and sent me a message.

She wrote, "How dare you tamper with the bomb, Aaron? I'll make sure you pay for this! I know you must have somehow come back to life. Hurry up and reply to my message."

She stared at her phone intently. One minute passed, and then two…

However, there was still no reply from me. In the past, I had never taken more than ten seconds to respond to her messages.

Harriet's chest heaved with anger. "Playing dead, huh? Fine! I have my ways to deal with you."

She immediately called a colleague who was still at the scene. Before they could even speak, she yelled into the phone, "Tell Aaron I know all about his dirty tricks! He'd better be ready to face the consequences!"

A worried voice came from the other end of the line. "But Harriet, Aaron hasn't come out yet. The fire hasn't been put out, so we still can't get in. I think he might be in trouble!"

Harriet sneered, unimpressed. Her tone was icy as she said, "He won't die. He's probably hiding somewhere to avoid taking responsibility. Tell him that whatever he's up to, it won't work! He nearly got Jeremy killed! I'll make him pay for that!"

She hung up, muttering curses under her breath.

A trace of satisfaction flashed across Jeremy's eyes, but he masked it with a magnanimous expression. "Hatty," he said soothingly, "it's normal for men to get jealous. Aaron just got carried away. Let it go."

Harriet frowned and glared at him. "Let it go? How can I? Your health hasn't been great ever since the accident. If it weren't for the blast shield, the explosion could've cost you your life. I won't let him off that easily!"

Jeremy hugged her tightly, looking moved. The two of them looked like lovers who had survived a trying ordeal together.

After leaving the hospital, Harriet took Jeremy straight to our home. She came up with the excuse that his injury made it inconvenient for him to manage his daily life on his own to justify taking him back with her.

As soon as they entered the house, Jeremy took out a pair of indoor slippers and even found the remote control to turn on the television without so much as looking around.

His smooth actions and familiarity with the surroundings made one thing painfully clear—Harriet had brought him to our home many times before.

Harriet went to the kitchen to start cooking, muttering to herself as she listed out Jeremy's favorite dishes.

Jeremy watched her with a gentle gaze and said warmly, "It's been such a long time since I've tasted your cooking, Hatty."

In the three years of our marriage, Harriet had never cooked even once. She always claimed that she didn't know how. Back then, I didn't mind and took on the cooking and all the other household chores myself.

Now, I could see that she "didn't know how" only in my presence.

During dinner, Harriet's phone suddenly rang. She answered it, and the sound of suppressed sobbing came from the other end.

"Harriet, please come quickly. Aaron… Aaron… is dead," Monica said, choking through her tears.

Harriet rolled her eyes, clearly not believing a word of it. "Monica, I know you're close with Aaron. But you shouldn't come up with such a clumsy excuse to cover for him. I know for a fact that he can't die."

Monica hadn't expected such a response. She was stunned for a moment before crying even harder as she tried to explain, "Harriet, I'm not lying to you! Aaron is—"

Before Monica could finish, Harriet hung up abruptly and complained, "Unbelievable! Aaron even came up with a lie like this to get us to forgive him. How ridiculous! Even if something did happen to him, he has the system to save him. There's no way he'd die."

Jeremy chimed in from the side, "He's probably just jealous. Men understand men, Hatty. Don't be too upset."

Upon hearing that, Harriet slammed her fork down heavily, her expression livid. "If he doesn't apologize to you properly when he gets back, I'll divorce him!"

Her words felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

When I'd begged Harriet not to take the blast shield away, I had already told her that I only had two chances at resurrection. Still, she didn't believe me and thought I was acting out in jealousy.

Even when someone informed her of my death now, she still dismissed it as a lie. She even used the threat of divorce against me. However, that threat was meaningless.

After dinner, Jeremy climbed onto the bed that belonged to me and Harriet. The room's temperature seemed to rise as they drew closer together.

I desperately tried to leave, but an invisible force kept me confined in the room.

Just as they were about to kiss, Harriet suddenly sat up abruptly. She forced a smile and said, "Jeremy, your hand is injured. You should focus on recovering for now."

With that, she fled to the guest bedroom.

I couldn't understand it. Wasn't this exactly what Harriet wanted?

The next morning, Harriet prepared a full breakfast for Jeremy and left a detailed note with instructions and reminders before heading out.

When she arrived at the police station, she noticed everyone looking at her with sympathy. She didn't understand why they were doing that, so she asked an officer who happened to be standing nearby.

The officer struggled to find the words to tell her the unfortunate news. But before he managed to say anything, the police chief, Samson Bayer, called her over.

Harriet found it strange. "Chief, what's going on?"

Samson patted her shoulder and led her to the morgue. "My condolences, Harriet," he said solemnly.

Harriet was taken aback. She tried to brush aside the unease growing in her heart. "Chief, what are you talking about? My family is fine. What's there to grieve about?"

Samson sighed and said, "After the bomb exploded yesterday, Aaron didn't make it out. He died at the scene. His body is inside."

Harriet forced a stiff smile. "Stop joking with me, Chief. That explosion was something Aaron rigged himself. There's no way he'd die. He's probably hiding to avoid responsibility."

Upon hearing her accusation, Samson's expression turned grim as he said reproachfully, "Aaron was your husband and a fellow officer! How could you question his character and sense of duty so thoughtlessly?

"The body in the morgue is undoubtedly his. We've already confirmed it through DNA testing. If you don't believe me, you can see for yourself."

Harriet swallowed hard and stepped forward hesitantly. She still muttered stubbornly, "Fine, I'll take a look. This whole thing must be a hoax. I'm sure Aaron had found a way to escape."

And so, her hand hovered over the white sheet. Judging from how much she was trembling, what she felt inside was far from the uncaring front she showed outwardly.

Slowly, she lifted the sheet…