Marina naturally grabbed his hands, asking innocently, "Do you think Caitlin would be upset and kick me out if I stayed?"

Anthony chuckled, looking at her tenderly. "I'm the man of the house. She's got no say. Stay as long as you want."

I caught the smug glint in her eyes, feeling a pang of regret.

I used to be a hotshot in the business world, pulling in millions a year.

For our little family, I quit. For him, I learned to cook, burning and cutting my hands countless times.

Marina's voice pulled me back. She tugged his arm, whining, "I want some pastries."

"Two years of eating them, and you're still not sick of them?" he teased.

She shook her head. "Caitlin makes them so good. I can't get enough."

That was when I realized all those pastries I made for Anthony had ended up in her stomach.

"Alright, I'll call her and get her home to make some," he said.

Marina threw herself into his arms. "You're the best."

Anthony rubbed her cheek. "Anything to make you happy."

He dialed my number but could not get through. That was normal because I was dead.

His face darkened with irritation, and he texted me: [If you want next month's allowance, get home now.]

His commanding tone cut me deep. Even as a ghost, I could still feel the hurt.

"She's probably pulling that runaway stunt again to get your attention," Marina grunted. "Don't fall for it."

"A housewife with no family?" Anthony smirked. "She's got no leverage to play games with me."

He sent me another message. [If you're not back in 30 minutes, we're done.]

It was the second time he'd threatened divorce since Marina came back. The first was when I drank some honey water for cramps. It was what he had made for her.

She whined about it, and he ditched me for a week to pamper her. When he finally came home, he called me vicious and demanded a divorce.

Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined he would say something like that. He had promised to love me for a lifetime.

I slapped him, and he stormed out.

If Marina hadn't clamored for my pastries, he might've never remembered me.

He walked her into the room, and she kept him there under the pretext of fearing the dark.

I just didn't expect him not to share her bed.

After she dozed off, he slipped into our room and froze at the sight of our wedding photo off the wall.

Hesitated, he called me again, but there was no answer.

He raked his hair in frustration and kicked my suitcase. It spilled open, and two outfits and hundreds of our photos slipped out.

He picked one up. It was him proposing to me.

Back then, he only had eyes for me. Yet his love had vanished in just a few years.

"Anthony," Marina called out.

She stood at the door in his shirt. Her bare legs radiated temptation under the light.

He rushed over, scooping her up. "The floor's cold. You'll get sick."

She blushed in his arms as he carried her to our bed, but her eyes glinted when she saw the scattered photos on the floor.

"I got a picture from a friend," she said. "The person in it seems to be Caitlin. Wanna see it?"

I floated over, stunned when I saw her phone screen.

Anthony snarled, firing off messages.

[You slut, can't keep your legs closed?]

[Damn it, you're cheating on me?]

I laughed at his blind rage. The edit was so obvious, but he didn't see it.

Watching him shred our photos, I wanted to slap him silly.

For the rest of the night, he was cursing non-stop.

Loving him was the biggest mistake I had made in my life.

He didn't sleep a wink, yet he still insisted on making breakfast for Marina the next morning.

"Are you really going to divorce Caitlin?" she asked tentatively.

"I will get to the bottom of this," he said, slamming his bowl onto the table. "If she really betrayed me, I'll make sure she leaves with nothing."

I laughed and looked around. Everything in this house, from the decor to the ornaments, was handpicked by me.

From now on, they were all his.

After breakfast, Marina insisted on going to the company with him.

Anthony gladly agreed and took her along.

In his office, he set some fruit down in front of her and told her to take a nap if she got tired.

George burst in, out of breath. "A friend on the police force said the victim seemed to be Caitlin."

Anthony's face twitched. "Don't talk nonsense."

Before George could explain, Marina stepped up to Anthony, clinging to his arm like she owned him.

"Did Caitlin put you up to it?" she snorted. "Tell her that Anthony's too busy to play along with her dumb drama. If she doesn't get back home now, he's seriously gonna dump her."

George was at a loss.

"I thought we were tight," Anthony sighed. "And here you are, playing along with Caitlin. Marina's right. I don't have time for her games. Tell her to get home immediately."

Tears streamed down my face as I heard that. One word from Marina, and everything I was got erased.

His care for her was a stark contrast to his indifference to me.

Suddenly, a stern voice cut through the room. "Hello, is Mr. Anthony Hamilton here?"

A police officer appeared in the doorway, announcing, "After a thorough investigation, we've confirmed the victim from the elevator crash two days ago was Caitlin Hamilton."

Anthony's body swayed, and his face turned ashen.

"How is that possible?" he muttered.