I don't know how long it had been, but when I woke up again, I found myself floating in the air, in a transparent state.

In the hospital, Ethan sat with his head bowed, carefully blowing on a bowl of seafood porridge before feeding it to my "best friend," Sophie.

I sat at the edge of the bed, watching everything unfold with cold detachment. A strange bitterness filled my heart as I instinctively reached for my tears, only to realize that I was already dead.

Outside, thunder rumbled and rain battered against the glass like frantic moths drawn to a flame, adding to my growing irritation.

Yet they seemed oblivious to the storm, gazing at each other with deep affection.

They were sweet and loving, like a devoted couple, completely unaware of my existence or suffering.

It was only in death that I discovered my so-called best friend had feelings for my boyfriend!

"Sophie, I added extra ginger to the seafood porridge for you," Ethan said, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at her.

Ethan's gaze was filled with such tenderness that it nearly drowned me. I should have noticed earlier—his indifference toward me had started when he began casually probing into Sophie's habits.

Sophie was my college roommate who often skipped classes and failed exams.

After graduation, she struggled to find a job while her family pressured her into blind dates.

She would call me in tears, and out of sympathy, I invited her to live with me and Ethan.

We weren't wealthy; we rented a small one-bedroom apartment.

When I discussed this with Ethan, I worried he might be upset. To my surprise, he welcomed Sophie with open arms and praised my kindness.

Sophie hugged me tightly, calling me loyal. In that moment, I felt like the happiest person alive—blessed with an understanding boyfriend and a caring friend.

But little did I know that this act of kindness would lead Ethan to abandon me... even to the point of sending me to my demise.

"Ethan, I'm a bit scared; can I lean on your shoulder?" Sophie blinked her big doe eyes at him.

"I thought I was going to die out there—the wind was fierce, the rain relentless—I swallowed so much seawater."

Tears welled up in her eyes, clinging to her lashes in a pitiful display.

"Thank goodness... you saved me, Ethan. When I saw you swimming toward me, I thought maybe this drifting soul finally had someone to rely on..."

Ethan's heart melted at her words; he pulled her into an embrace and whispered soothingly, "Sophie, don't be afraid. You suffered alone before without anyone to shelter you; now I'm here. I'll always protect you."

Hearing Ethan's promise felt like a cruel joke.

He had once told me he loved independent women—those who could stand strong like a flourishing tree and inspire him with their vitality.

How had things changed so drastically?

Sophie sighed and gently pulled away from Ethan's embrace, biting her lip in false bravado. "Well, you're Emma's boyfriend... If only we could meet sooner in another life."

She looked as innocent as a delicate flower about to fall from its stem—an appearance that made anyone want to protect her.

This was her forte; it was what Ethan adored most about her.

After moving in with us, Sophie often used her mental health struggles as an excuse to shirk household responsibilities.

The only chore she consistently did was laundry for Ethan—even when she was sick and feverish.

When she first moved in, she promised to handle everything at home so that Ethan and I could focus on our jobs without worry.

She tearfully explained, "Emma, I'm so grateful for you and Ethan letting me stay here. But since Ethan is technically a stranger to me, even if he doesn't show it outwardly, living together for too long might affect your relationship. If I do more around here, it will prevent any resentment from building up."

Her words touched me deeply.

So even when Ethan caught Sophie washing clothes while sick and scolded me harshly for it, I chose not to argue out of respect for Sophie's pride.

But soon enough, she began crossing boundaries.

Her focus was solely on Ethan—caring for him meticulously while neglecting everything else around her.

As the little annoyances piled up, my patience with Sophie wore thin, and Ethan's attitude toward me grew increasingly cold.

The final straw came one evening when Sophie emerged from the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel, and wandered into the living room.

I had already hinted to her multiple times that this behavior was inappropriate, but she always responded with a feigned sense of hurt and continued to act as she pleased.

That night, while Ethan and I were watching TV, Sophie approached us, exposing a generous amount of bare skin as she tried to squeeze between us.

I finally snapped, unleashing the frustration I had bottled up for so long. Instead of supporting me, Ethan accused me of being narrow-minded for not accepting my best friend.

Sophie, with tears streaming down her face, leaned on Ethan's shoulder and apologized, promising to move out immediately.

Ethan's heart melted at her display of vulnerability, and in an effort to make amends, he rented her a lavish apartment without consulting me—using funds from our wedding savings.

Meanwhile, Ethan and I were cramped in a tiny, outdated apartment. When we moved in together, he had held me close, full of remorse, promising he would work hard to buy me a beautiful home and spare me any suffering.

But now, that promise seemed to have been transferred to Sophie.

When I confronted him about taking money from our account for Sophie's apartment, he responded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Sophie is still just a girl; she doesn't know better," he said dismissively. "She doesn't have a job or family support. As her friend, it's my duty to take care of her."

His expression shifted to disgust as he continued, "It's pathetic that you can't even accept your best friend. I really misjudged your character."

His harsh words jolted me back to reality.

It was Sophie who had encouraged him to call and check on me while showering him with compliments about his kindness.

Now, unable to answer his calls after everything that had happened, I could only imagine his frustration as he cursed my stubbornness.

"Emma, you've gotten bold! Ignoring my calls? Can't you change that awful attitude?" he texted angrily.

"If you want to sulk, fine! Just don't come crying back for forgiveness!"

"You think you can just disappear? Go back to South City and tidy up your mess!"

"I didn't tell you, so what? I just brought Sophie along to unwind! Why are you making that long face? Who are you trying to intimidate?"

I couldn't help but scoff at how I had ever considered marrying someone like him.

With me out of the picture, their two-week trip turned into their own private honeymoon.

Trapped in this spectral state around Ethan, I watched helplessly as he and Sophie acted like a couple madly in love.

They completely forgot about me; in their eyes, I was just an obstacle standing between them.

After their trip ended, Ethan returned home from dropping Sophie off at her new apartment.

He opened our door only to find darkness enveloping the space; dust hung in the air like a forgotten memory.

"Emma, I'm back! Why are the lights still off?" he called out while fumbling in the dark for the switch. The irony hit me hard—he didn't even know where the light switch was in our own home!

"Don't sleep yet! I just drove hundreds of miles; I'm exhausted! Make me some noodles with two eggs!" He still treated me like his live-in maid.

If I weren't stuck as a spirit right now, I would have slapped him across the face!

The glaring light flickered on without any response from me. Frustration clouded his eyes as he stomped toward our bedroom.

"Emma! Is this really necessary? If you hadn't been so petty and left early..."

He paused at the bedroom door when he found it empty. "Emma?"

His breath quickened as he scanned the dust-laden room that felt eerily lifeless without my presence.

Panic seeped into his demeanor as he realized no one had been living there for quite some time.

Just then, an urgent phone call shattered the silence. Grabbing his phone frantically, Ethan answered, "Emma? Where are you...?"

Before he could finish his sentence, a serious voice interrupted him from the other end, "Hello sir? Are you Emma's friend? This is South City Police Department; we received a report..."