I died three days ago.

He didn't cry. He didn't mourn.

He crushed my ashes beneath his feet—my husband, Anderson Selman.

I thought death would bring me peace.

But my soul refused to rest. I stayed, watching him hold another woman—the one who destroyed our lives, his adoptive sister, Naomi.

She killed his mother... and me.

And yet he planned to marry her.

--

Three days after my death, someone called my husband Anderson Selman, asking him to come identify my body.

Holding his adoptive sister close, he replied with casual indifference, "She died, so what? Call me after you cremate her."

And so I was cremated. After my body was reduced to ashes, the staff rang Anderson up again.

He tsked, sounding annoyed. "Alright. I'm on my way."

Anderson arrived two hours later.

He looked disheveled, a lipstick stain darkening his collar.

It wasn't hard to tell that he had just gotten laid.

Anderson found the staff who had called him and sneered, "Where's Valeria Pendord's ashes? You asked me to pick them up."

The staff handed him the urn after confirming his identity.

Anderson took it casually, his eyes full of mockery.

"Is it really Valeria? Or you just put some pet's ashes inside to trick me?"

The staff was shocked. "Mr. Selman, it's Ms. Penford's ashes indeed. It's in the record. Do you want to check?"

Anderson smirked, "No, thanks. I believe you."

I heaved a sigh of relief. I was dead, but somehow my soul lingered.

I figured it was probably because I hadn't been buried.

Now that Anderson knew that I had died, no matter how much he hated me, he'd bury me for old time's sake, I suppose.

Before I could let out a laugh, Anderson gasped.

The urn slipped out of his hands, and my ashes scattered across the floor.

He chuckled, "Oops, sorry. A slip of hand."

Then, he reached out his foot, grinding my ashes into the concrete.

My breath hitched. I stared into his scornful eyes, trying to say something but failing to make a sound.

Anderson didn't stop until every last trace of me had been stomped into dust.

He drew his foot back, looking pleased.

Meeting the staff's astonished gaze, he scoffed, "Tell Valeria—this trick is creative but pathetic.

"My mom's death anniversary is in a few days. She'd better kneel before my mom's grave to atone for her sin. Or I'll dig up her body and lash it even if she's dead."

The malice in that sentence crawled under my skin.

I knew he meant it.

Suddenly, I felt glad that my body had been cremated.

Or I couldn't bear to imagine how humiliating that would be.

Before the staff could argue, Anderson was called away.

Strangely, my soul followed him.

I had no choice but to ride along on the passenger seat, listening to him speak on the phone.

I recognized the voice on the other end—Naomi Selman, his adoptive sister.

Back when Anderson and I were still in love, Naomi had approached me and demanded that I leave him.

I had refused, and she had started making things difficult for me, like spreading rumors about me in the office and hiring thugs to intimidate me.

Anderson had found out and scolded her, threatening to kick her out if she dared to hurt me again.

That was when Naomi finally behaved.

Anderson's face darkened when Naomi mentioned my name.

"Ugh, what brought her up? It's not like she's really dead."

"What if she is? Anderson, what would you do?" Naomi asked tentatively.

My stomach dropped. Instinctively, I turned my head and stared at him.

Once upon a time, he wouldn't let any harm come to me. He'd feel sad even when I only had a mild graze.

He used to tell me that I was his most precious treasure and he'd cherish me forever.

But now, he sneered, " I'll throw a three-day party and set off fireworks all over town to celebrate."

My eyes widened in disbelief. I never knew he hated me this much.

He'd even celebrate my death.

But Anderson, I was indeed dead. You just wouldn't believe it.

The car stopped in front of a bridal shop. Anderson got out of the car and walked inside.

He looked as excited as the day he took me to a bridal shop after we secretly got married.

He was so eager to see me in a wedding dress that day.

He held me in his arms tightly and told me that I was the most beautiful bride in the world.

And he was looking at Naomi in the same way. She was in a wedding dress, too.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and said softly, "You're beautiful."

Naomi smiled shyly and lowered her head. When she raised her head again, there were tears in her eyes.

"Anderson, I've waited so long for this."

Stunned, I watched Naomi kiss Anderson on the cheek.

I was desperate to stop them.

My hand went through Anderson's body. Froze, I watched him put a ring on Naomi's middle finger.

How could they?

Why Naomi?

She killed his mother!

Anderson, stop!

I opened my mouth, shouting in grief.

Later, I watched them, my brain numb.

Naomi twirled in front of the mirror joyfully and asked, "By the way, Anderson, is she OK?"

We all knew who she was referring to.

Anderson looked bored, annoyed even.

"She's fine. Just playing another trick for attention."

"Should we invite her to our wedding?"

Anderson's eyes were half lidded, hiding his emotions. Suddenly, a sneer crept on his face.

"Of course. She's important."

Immediately, I knew he wanted me to see his wedding.

After all, I'd dreamt about it countless times.

Because of his mother Trisha Selman's strong objection, we just registered our marriage at the city hall. There was never a wedding.

But later, a wedding became a dream that could never come true.

Because Trisha died of a heart attack.

The night she died, her last call was made to me.

Naturally, Anderson thought I said something to trigger a heart attack and kill Trisha.

On the day of her funeral, Anderson made me kneel in front of her grave for 24 hours.

It rained heavily that day. We stared at each other in the rain.

Anderson's eyes were dull, ablaze with hatred.

He said, "Valeria, from now on, I won't rest until one of us dies."

Since that day, I turned into Anderson's enemy from his wife.

He hated me and humiliated me in any possible way. Yet, he forbade me from leaving him.

He even took women home.

I looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. He patted my cheek and chuckled mockingly, "Valeria, are you hurt? You deserve it! You've got no one to blame but yourself."

I tried to explain, but Anderson only became meaner.

He was sure about his theory since he knew Trisha didn't like me.

She once said that she'd never accept me.

Anderson had argued with her many times on that matter, even having a fallout with his family just to be with me.

But the woman he loved so dearly had killed his mother.

Anderson couldn't accept it.

After saying goodbye to Naomi, Anderson seemed to remember me.

He decided to be generous and took me off his blacklist. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while calling me with the other hand.

After a while, his brows knitted together in anger.

He slammed his hand on the steering wheel.

"Valeria, how dare you ignore my call! You're dead!"

But he didn't know that I wasn't ignoring his call.

I couldn't answer his calls anymore, even if I wanted to.

After half a month, Anderson finally returned to our home.

He opened the door forcibly and shouted, "Valeria! Get out of here!"

He opened every door in the house and couldn't find me.

His expression became gloomier.

While ordering his men to look for me, he murmured darkly, "Valeria, you'd better run far, far away. Once I catch you, I'll break your legs."

The woman he was threatening was standing right in front of him.

Soon, his men texted him a location.

Anderson's features twisted. I looked at his screen in confusion. The address was Terrance Rolt's house.

"Mr. Selman, Mrs. Selman's last call was made to Mr. Rolt. But he denied seeing her. We think he may have kidnapped Mrs. Selman."

Anderson said coldly, "Stay there. I'm on my way."

His car peeled out and arrived at Terrance's house in no time.

With a scowl, he kicked at the closed door.

One kick. Two kicks. The door opened after the third one.

Terrance looked calm. There were dark rings under his eyes.

"What is it?"

Anderson scoffed, "You hid my wife from me. You tell me."

Terrance's expression didn't change a bit, as if he had been detached from the world.

"I'm not hiding her. She's dead. Didn't the funeral home call you to collect her ashes?"

"She dragged you into this foolish play? Looks like Valeria is determined to get away from me."

Anderson still wasn't convinced that I died. He stubbornly believed that this was my plan to leave him.

Craning his neck, Anderson shouted, "Valeria, just because Terrance is helping you, it doesn't mean you can miss Mom's anniversary. On the count of three, get out of here. Or you'll see how cruel I can be.

"Three. Two. One."

Suddenly, Anderson kicked Terrance and ordered his men to break into the house.

Terrance collapsed to the floor, anger shimmering in his poker face.

"Anderson, Valeria is dead. You held her ashes in your hands. Don't you remember?

"She died. She'd been dead for days."

Seething, Terrance grabbed Anderson's collar and pinned him to the wall.

With a dark look, Anderson taunted, "You're still defending her at this point? Terrance, you really love her, don't you? Shame that I got to her first. When I grow bored with her, I may give her to you. That is, if you still like her then.

"But not now. I want her to visit my mom's grave and apologize. She can't hide here with you."

Terrance was so mad that he was flushing from his face to his neck. He gripped Anderson's collar and said through gritted teeth, "Anderson, you son of a bitch."

Then, he punched Anderson on the face, hard. Anderson grunted in pain.

Suddenly, the two started a fist fight.

I heard from one senior that people wouldn't have feelings in the afterlife.

But for some reason, my chest swelled as if it was about to explode.

Terrance worked out. But Anderson had taken boxing lessons.

Soon, Anderson had pinned Terrance to the ground. There were bruises on Terrance's face.

I circled around them worriedly, but there was nothing I could do.

"Rolt. Look how pathetic you are now. Getting beaten to a pulp for Valeria. Where's she? She's just hiding inside without a sense of guilt.

"Do you think a woman like her deserves your love?"

Terrance scoffed, his eyes full of scorn, "Anderson, you're the pathetic one here. You'd mistaken the culprit of your mother's death and hurt the woman you loved. You're worse than an animal."

"What did you say?"

Anderson raised his fist coldly.

Someone shouted out nervously, stopping him.

"Mr. Selman, we found the surveillance footage of Mrs. Selman's car crash and...her autopsy report."