Ongoing · — reads

After I Died,My Disloyal Husband Became Depressed

When the wicked men tore into my heart and internal organs savagely, I was still holding the phone tightly, trying to ask Steve Harrington for help. Steve was my husband. “I told you not to bother me,” Steve barked before cutting the call. As I listened to the call being hung up, the last bit of hope in my eyes died out. The next second, with a hideous grin, the man stabbed the dagger into my stomach. Tonight was our wedding anniversary. I wanted to break the news that I was finally pregnant. My mother will never carry her grandchild like she had dreamed of… I felt like I was getting lighter, and my soul was peeling away from my body bit by bit. The last thing I felt was the searing pain as my stomach was torn apart, the life I had carried inside me slipping away along with my own. The world faded to black, and I knew—this was how it would end. Alone, betrayed, and forgotten by the one person I had loved more than anything. Suddenly, my soul floated.