On the third day after my death, Wren Alcott got a call to identify my remains. She was nestled against a man’s shoulder and dismissed it carelessly. “If he’s dead, he’s dead. Just cremate him and let me know.” My body was sent to the crematorium, reduced to ashes, and the staff called her again. She sounded annoyed. “Got it. I’ll be there soon.” …… Content By the time Wren arrived, it was two hours later. Strands of her hair were tangled around her face, a clear sign that she’d just left someone’s bed. Spotting the staff member, she sneered, “Asher Voss’s ashes, right? Aren’t I supposed to pick them up?” Once they confirmed her identity, they handed her the box containing my remains. Wren accepted it, her eyes filled with scorn. “So, these are really Asher’s ashes? You didn’t just fill it with some stray cat’s ashes to trick me, did you?” The staff member, shocked, replied, “Miss Alcott, these are indeed Mr. Voss’s remains. We have a record. Would you like to see it?” She chuckled softly. “No, I believe you.” I felt an odd sense of relief. Even though I was dead, my spirit lingered here. I figured it was because I hadn’t been laid to rest. Now that Wren accepted I was gone, perhaps out of a slight sense of duty, she would eventually bury me. But before I could feel any comfort, Wren gasped. The box slipped from her hands, scattering my ashes onto the ground. She laughed cruelly. “Oops, my hand slipped.” With that, she ground her high heel into my remains, twisting it with vicious delight. I could barely breathe, staring at her smug expression. I opened my mouth but couldn’t utter a sound. My ashes disappeared into the floor, blending with dust. Satisfied, Wren stepped back, ignoring the horrified staff as she said, “Remember to tell Asher—mind games don’t work on me.” “And in a few days, it’s my mother’s Remembrance Day. He’d better come crawling to her grave and beg forgiveness. Otherwise, even if he’s dead, I won’t hesitate to dig him up and desecrate his body.” Her words sent a chill through the room. But I knew she’d do it if it came to that. Suddenly, I felt lucky my body had already been cremated. Otherwise, I could only imagine the humiliation she’d put me through. Before the staff could argue, Wren got a call and left. Strangely, my spirit seemed tethered to her, following as she went. I ended up sitting in the passenger seat, listening as she chatted with the man on the other end. The voice was familiar. Graham Hale, the Alcott family’s ward. Back when Wren and I were still together, he’d confronted me and demanded I leave her. When I refused, he launched a smear campaign against me, sending people to harass me. Wren found out and had someone teach him a painful lesson, warning she’d kick him out of the house if he ever messed with me again. Graham behaved himself after that. When my name came up, Wren’s expression turned cold. “Why even mention him? Bad luck—he’s not really dead, after all.” “But if he were?” Graham’s voice was probing, his tone cautious. A chill ran through me, and I turned instinctively to look at Wren. The old Wren wouldn’t have cared if I’d died. A scratch on my hand would have been enough to bring her to tears. She once said I was her one true love, that she’d never love anyone else. Now, Wren laughed icily. “If he really were dead? I’d throw a three-day party and light up the city with fireworks.”
I stared, stunned. Only now did I realize the depths of her hatred. She’d celebrate my death as if it were a holiday. But Wren, I am dead. You just don’t believe it yet. The car stopped outside a bridal boutique, and Wren stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement. She hurried inside, almost twisting her ankle. I thought back to the day we secretly got our marriage license, and she dragged me into a boutique like this. She couldn’t wait to try on a wedding dress and show me. Back then, she’d smiled with pure happiness, saying she was the world’s luckiest bride, and I was her dashing groom. Now, that same smile graced her face as she stood beside Graham Hale, who was dressed in a white suit. They looked perfect together, a flawless couple. “Beautiful,” Graham murmured, a hint of admiration in his voice. “I finally have you, Wren,” he whispered, eyes brimming with adoration. I watched, frozen, as Graham leaned in to kiss her. I wanted to stop it, but my hand went straight through Wren’s shoulder. I could only watch helplessly as he slipped a ring onto her finger. How could this happen? Why Graham? He was the one who caused her mother’s death! Wren! My mouth opened, but only a raspy whisper escaped. I felt a hollow ache, standing numb as Graham gently touched Wren’s cheek. “By the way, Wren—he’s really gone, isn’t he?” He didn’t need to clarify who he meant. We both knew. Her face was expressionless, almost irritated. “Why would he be a problem? It’s all just an act,” she replied dismissively. “And for our wedding, should we invite him?” Her lashes lowered, veiling her emotions. Suddenly, she smiled, a twisted grin. “Of course. He’s an important guest.” Realization struck me—Wren wanted me to witness her wedding. The wedding I’d always dreamed of having with her. We had only gotten our license back then because we couldn’t get Miriam Alcott’s blessing for a full ceremony. The wedding became something I longed for but never had. Miriam passed soon after, dying of a heart attack that night. Her last call had been to me. Wren had blamed me for “driving her to her grave.” At her funeral, Wren forced me to kneel by the graveside all night, through a downpour. Her eyes, hollow and filled with loathing, had fixed on me. “Asher Voss, from now on, it’s you and me, life and death.” That was when I stopped being her lover and became her enemy. She tormented me relentlessly, wouldn’t let me go, and even brought other men home. Watching my eyes burn, she would laugh, patting my face mockingly. “Asher, does it hurt? But isn’t this your fault? Who else can you blame?” Every attempt to explain only made her torment me more. She never doubted her conclusions because she knew her mother despised me. Miriam had even declared I’d never set foot in the Alcott household. Wren had fought Miriam on this, severing ties with the family for my sake. But now, the man she adored was the one responsible for her mother’s death. How could she bear it? After Graham left, it was as though Wren remembered me. She graciously took me off her blocklist, tapping the steering wheel while dialing my number. I watched as her calm expression shifted, her brows gradually knitting together. She struck the wheel in frustration. “Asher, if you don’t answer this call, you’re dead meat.” What she didn’t know was that I wasn’t ignoring her calls. I simply couldn’t answer anymore.
Two weeks later, Wren finally returned to Riverside Manor. She stormed through the front door, heels pounding against the floor. “Asher, get out here!” She threw open door after door, searching every room without finding me. Her expression grew darker with each empty space. She ordered her people to find me, muttering, “Asher, if you’re running, you’d better be far away. Because if I catch you, I’ll break your legs.” The man she wanted to punish, though, stood right in front of her. After a while, her phone beeped with a location update. Her face twisted with a frightening intensity. Curious, I looked and saw the address—Cora Dane’s place. “Ms. Alcott, Mr. Voss’s last call was to Ms. Dane. She claims she hasn’t seen him, but we suspect she’s holding him against his will.” Wren sneered. “Against his will? Sounds more like he’s there by choice. I’m on my way.” Wren sped to Cora’s place, her face set in a stormy glare. She pounded on the door—one, two, three times before it finally opened. Cora appeared, her face impassive, dark circles under her eyes. “What do you want?” Wren scoffed, “You’re hiding my husband, and you think I don’t have a reason to be here?” Cora remained emotionless, as though she’d lost all care for the world. “He’s not here. He’s dead. Didn’t the crematorium call you to pick up his remains?” “Oh, you’re helping him play another game? Asher’s really going all out to avoid me this time.” Wren refused to believe I was dead, convinced it was one of my tricks. She looked over Cora’s shoulder, calling out, “Asher, hiding behind a woman? How manly. I’ll count to three. If you don’t show yourself, don’t blame me for what I’ll do.” Three, two, one. Then, Wren shoved Cora, ordering her men to search the house. Cora cried out in pain as she fell, a flash of anger crossing her calm face. “Wren, Asher is dead. You picked up his ashes. Don’t you remember?” “He’s dead. Dead for days now.” Cora, trembling with fury, grabbed Wren by the collar and pushed her against the wall. Wren’s voice was mocking. “You’re still hiding him? You must really be infatuated with Asher, Cora. Too bad he loves me. Maybe when I’m done with him, if you still want him, I could hand him over to you.” “But not yet. He still owes my mother at her grave. He can’t keep you company yet.” Cora’s face flushed with anger, clenching Wren’s collar. “Wren Alcott, you’re a monster.” She slapped Wren hard across the face, leaving Wren stunned. The two of them fell into a vicious fight. My heart pounded, helplessly watching as they struggled. For all her training in Mixed Martial Arts, Wren had Cora pinned down quickly, leaving Cora bruised and battered. I could only watch in anguish, unable to do anything. “Look at you, Cora. Nearly beaten to death over Asher, while he happily hides behind your protection. A weak man like that—is he really worth it?” Cora scoffed, her voice dripping with scorn. “Wren, the real pathetic one is you. Mistaking your mother’s killer for someone loyal to you. Hurting the one who truly cares about you. You live like a stray dog.” “What did you just say?” Wren’s hand rose to strike when someone burst in. “Ms. Alcott, we found the footage from Mr. Voss’s accident. And… his autopsy report.”
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