A year after my unnatural death, my husband brought his new girlfriend to my grave. My ghostly neighbor, a veteran resident of the cemetery, patted my shoulder, telling me that people needed to look forward. But I was trembling all over, gripped by a sudden, chilling fear. Because his new girlfriend had *my* heart. **1.** I’d been dead for a year, and Liam still made time to visit my grave every week. He brought lavish offerings, even fresh flowers. My ghostly neighbor sighed wistfully, remarking how rare it was to find such a devoted man. A hollow, bitter laugh escaped my lips. Liam’s thumb traced the contours of my photo on the tombstone, his eyes filled with a deep, consuming sorrow and longing. Who would have guessed? This man, who’d once slept clutching my tombstone, had already found a new girlfriend just a week after my death. And their relationship was thriving, intimately close. I’d even met his new girlfriend before. She was his patient, a strikingly pretty young woman. When I was alive, she seemed to visit Liam almost daily. If her heart felt off, she’d see him for a check-up. If it felt fine, she’d still find an excuse for an electrocardiogram. She was clearly smitten with Liam, and even knowing he was a married man, she kept getting closer. Once, I was using Liam’s phone to look something up, and her message popped up. “Dr. Hayes, would you mind having an extra girlfriend?” Liam snatched the phone from my hand, his face blank, and typed a quick reply: “I do.” Liam would never cheat on me. I was confident of that. From childhood, his entire focus had been on medicine. It had taken me immense effort to even get him to go out with me. During that time, I’d never seen him fall for anyone, male or female. Not even me. Liam didn’t love me; I’d always known that. He’d agreed to my proposal simply because he was used to me being by his side. And now, Liam had seamlessly transitioned to a new girlfriend. The girl stepped out of the car. Her fingernails and lips were no longer purple; it seemed her congenital heart condition had been cured. They stood before my tombstone, fingers intertwined. “Avery, I have wonderful news for you. Liam and I are getting married next month.” Serena’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him for you.” She paused, then added, “And I hope you find happiness and peace wherever you are too.” I sat on my tombstone, my teeth grinding. Liam wasn’t the Liam I knew anymore either. He pulled a wet wipe from his pocket, lifted her hand, and carefully wiped a speck of dust from her index finger. He didn’t want even a single grain of dust from my tombstone to touch her. I pinched my arm, feeling a profound wave of pity for myself. Liam only stayed for ten minutes before they prepared to leave. As they brushed past me, I felt a familiar tremor. It wasn’t coming from *my* body. It was coming from Liam’s new girlfriend. I moved closer to her. And I heard it—that familiar heartbeat. One beat, two beats, three… My ghostly neighbor patted my shoulder, but I stood frozen in place. Because the heart beating in Liam’s new girlfriend’s chest… it was mine. **2.** I didn’t die a natural death, but only I knew that. On my way from the suburbs to the hospital, someone deliberately hit my car. I swerved to avoid the first impact but couldn’t escape the second. My bones and muscles felt like they’d been completely rearranged, and blood was everywhere. My hand trembled as I called Liam. “…Liam, I…” “I have an emergency surgery. We can talk later.” “Gotta go.” I called five or six times, but each time he hung up faster than the last. Finally, he got annoyed and just turned off his phone. I was dying. I wanted to tell him that. But in his heart, I couldn’t compare to an operation, to his passion for medicine. He was a doctor, a lifesaver. He could save everyone, but he couldn’t save me. My body was taken straight to the crematorium by the hit-and-run driver that very day. Two hours later, I was a handful of ashes. The entire process was disturbingly smooth. It was only after I died that I learned his “emergency surgery” that day was a heart transplant. And the patient was that young woman. Which meant that day, in the operating room, the beating heart Liam held in his hands… was mine. I watched his receding back. A sudden, morbid curiosity struck me. If Liam ever found out that he had personally sewn *my* heart into someone else’s chest during that surgery, would he break down? **3.** The girl had a beautiful name, Serena Dubois. She chatted animatedly with Liam, not at all like someone who would say morally outrageous things. “Liam, let me walk the rest of this path with you. Avery would surely agree.” She raised a hand to her chest, smiling triumphantly. “It’s a good thing I got this heart. Look, now I not only have a healthy body and a healthy heart, but I also have you.” Liam looked at her and smiled. I was smiling too, but it was a cold, sneering smile. Because my heart wasn’t healthy at all. I had a family history of heart disease. Only Liam knew about it, and he was the one treating me. Under his care, my heart pain went from once a week to once a year. By my calculations, Serena should be due for an attack any day now. Their car soon pulled up to the apartment complex. They went inside their home. It was a two-hundred-square-meter penthouse apartment, complete with a cat and a dog – practically my ideal, complete family. The moment the door opened, both pets swarmed them. I bit my lip, suddenly feeling incredibly devalued. When we first got married, I also wanted to adopt cats and dogs, but Liam had dismissed the idea. He’d said they were too much work, and I wouldn’t have time to care for them. Later, I found a stray cat, and he still advised against keeping it. He’d claimed the cat had feline distemper and ringworm. Yet now, Liam was staring, lost in thought, at Serena as she laughed and played with the cat and dog. Perhaps my heart sensed my emotions, because Serena suddenly clutched her chest. Her face turned a little pale. “Liam, I think I’m having trouble breathing.” Liam snapped out of his daze. He tilted his head in confusion, offering an explanation. “Could it be the shedding?” He pointed at the Ragdoll cat on the floor. I stared at him in astonishment. Liam, with his advanced degrees, was practically an expert in his field. And he had always known the symptoms of my attacks. How could he say something so unprofessional? Serena got up from the floor, moving away from the cat and taking deep breaths. But it was no use. Chest tightness was followed by a radiating pain from her heart. Serena indeed hunched over, her brow furrowed, afraid to move. She’d never experienced this kind of pain before; tears streamed down her face. She cried out in alarm, “Liam, my whole chest hurts so much right now!” “Is there something wrong with my heart?” Liam walked over unhurriedly. He reached Serena’s side and offered comfort. “It’s nothing. Don’t overthink it.” “You’re probably just having a stitch in your side. It’ll go away on its own in a bit.” I was even more shocked. The pain did disappear after a few minutes, just as Liam said, but without medication, it would return the next day. Liam couldn’t possibly not know that. A few minutes later, Serena’s pain indeed subsided. Liam handed her a small white pill. He wiped the sweat from her brow. “It’s a calming sleeping aid. You only had your heart transplant a year ago; you need more rest.” Serena took the pill and went to bed. I watched Liam stand by the floor-to-ceiling window, toying with a white pill bottle in his hand. I recognized it, even intimately. Because that pill bottle contained the medication I used for my heart condition. Liam himself had given it to me. Had he discovered that the heart beating in Serena’s chest was mine?
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