The final argument with Ethan ended with him slamming the door as he stormed out. Overcome with anger and grief, I suffered a fatal heart attack. He used the excuse of “clearing his head” to take his mistress and her son on a scenic getaway. Meanwhile, our young daughter Sophie was left alone at home, keeping vigil over my lifeless body for seven days and nights. When Ethan finally remembered us, he returned to find me cold and still. Sophie was weak and sickly, her small face gaunt and pale, on the verge of collapse. Finally coming to his senses, Ethan broke down sobbing at my grave, clutching Sophie. But she struggled free from his arms and hid behind my headstone. Blinking up at him with big eyes, she asked, “Who are you? Please don’t disturb my mommy.” Ethan and I had the worst fight of our marriage. He violently swept everything off the table, shouting at me in a rage: “Lily, stop being so paranoid! There’s nothing going on between Olivia and me.” I silently tucked away the lipstick I had found in his clothes. It was a hard-to-get limited edition luxury brand – what a shame it had already been used. Sighing deeply to mask my pain, I said, “Can you please be rational, at least in front of our child?” Ethan angrily smacked the lipstick out of my hand. The force left a deep red mark on the back of my hand. “I’m sick of living like this. Do whatever you want from now on.” With that, he grabbed his jacket from the couch and stormed out, slamming the door. The thunderous slam made my ears ring. I sank to the floor, exhausted, and began cleaning up the mess Ethan had made in his outburst. 5-year-old Sophie came running out of the bedroom. She gently hugged my neck and stroked the red mark on my hand. “Mommy, does it hurt?” Seeing her tear-filled eyes, I pulled her close, my heart aching. “Sophie sweetie, Mommy’s not hurt. Mommy’s just…tired.” I had trusted Ethan unwaveringly for seven years. Yet he and Olivia kept testing my limits again and again. At this point, I truly couldn’t maintain this marriage any longer. Sophie stood up and held my hand in both of her little ones. “Sophie will help Mommy to bed to rest. My preschool teacher says sleep makes you less tired.” Sophie’s sweetness relieved much of the ache in my heart. I tucked her into her little bed and lay down beside her. We read our endless bedtime stories together, just the two of us. As night fell, Sophie’s breathing became slow and steady. A notification popped up on my phone by the bed. I absently opened it. It was a photo from Olivia. The image showed Ethan lying shirtless on white hotel sheets. There was no caption, but the message was clear – she was staking her claim. My blood rushed to my head as my heart clenched painfully. I stumbled to the living room to find my medication. The pill bottle I normally kept carefully stored was nowhere to be found. In my final moments, I suddenly remembered. It was Ethan. Earlier during our fight, he had knocked everything over. A white pill bottle had fallen out the window – the one containing my life-saving heart medication. The cardiac arrest came on so suddenly. By the time I realized what was happening, I had already become a spirit hovering above my body. I looked helplessly at my sleeping daughter, my heart breaking. My death may have freed me from pain, but she was still so young – what would become of her now? The next morning, Sophie slept in naturally. She drowsily opened her eyes, instinctively trying to rest her head on my arm as usual. But she found I was already gone. As the reality sunk in, Sophie felt bereft. She ran barefoot through the house. Calling out “Mommy” in each room. Finally she found me collapsed by the sofa. Sophie pressed her little face against my cheek, whining. “Mommy, why are you sleeping here? You’re supposed to sleep in bed with Sophie.” She lay on top of me for a long, long time, but I didn’t comfort her like I normally would. Sophie’s lower lip trembled unhappily, but she said: “It’s okay, Mommy must be really tired and needs more rest.” My poor little Sophie. She was still so young. I hadn’t even had the chance to teach her about the concept of life and death. In her mind, she only thought Mommy was sleeping and would eventually wake up. The moment Ethan angrily walked out, I truly hoped he would have the guts to never come back. But now, I didn’t care if he had cheated or not. I didn’t care about Olivia and her son’s insults and abuse. I could even accept if he scattered my ashes to the wind. I just wanted him to come home quickly. Our daughter was only 5 years old. She couldn’t take care of herself and shouldn’t be alone for too long. But I stayed by Sophie’s side from morning until nightfall, and Ethan never appeared. Sophie’s tummy started to growl with hunger. Once again she climbed on top of me with her little bare feet. “Mommy, why won’t you wake up? Sophie is hungry and wants you to make dumplings.” Previously, to help her quit unhealthy junk food, We didn’t keep many ready-to-eat snacks at home. The kitchen was stocked with mostly raw ingredients. Now I deeply regretted that decision. If I had known I would have such little time left with her, Why did I place so many restrictions on her? She was just a child after all. Time ticked by slowly. I couldn’t bear to watch Sophie’s pitiful state any longer. I tried to leave her side to go outside. I had to find Ethan. Even if my soul scattered, I had to find a way to make him come back and save Sophie. I didn’t know which hotel Ethan and Olivia had slept at last night. But I knew where Olivia lived, because I had seen that address in Ethan’s car GPS countless times. The man who always claimed to be busy with work and often needed to stay late at the office Was now lounging on Olivia’s couch, playing video games with her son. As one game ended, Ethan had clearly let the boy win on purpose. Ryan happily jumped up and hugged Ethan’s neck, saying: “Uncle Ethan, I wish you were my dad.” Olivia smoothly fed Ethan a piece of cut watermelon. She chided gently, “Ryan, what are you saying? You have a father. Mommy’s just unlucky that he left us.” Seeing Olivia’s pitiful expression, Ethan’s eyes filled with tenderness. He picked up Ryan and lifted him overhead: “It’s alright, a father’s love is essential for a child’s growth. Ryan can call me Dad if he wants. I already think of him as my own son anyway.” After Sophie was born, Ethan said he trusted me and left her upbringing entirely to me. He rarely even attended parent-teacher events at her preschool. I made excuses for him, always telling Sophie: “Daddy doesn’t dislike you, he’s just very busy. Don’t blame Daddy.” Then I shouldered everything behind the scenes, all to maintain the trust between father and daughter. I never imagined that during all those days and nights Sophie’s father was absent, He was here playing dad to someone else’s child. Olivia looked slightly embarrassed as she said coyly, “But won’t Lily be upset about this?” At the mention of me, Ethan’s expression instantly darkened. He said coldly, “Don’t worry about her. She was still arguing with me before I left. We used to get along fine, but now she’s always nagging like a shrew.” Hearing his words, Olivia’s face lit up with joy. She clung tightly to Ethan’s arm, her voice dripping with honey. “Then why don’t you stay here tonight? Get some peace and quiet away from home.” I hovered in the air, frantically circling. I opened my mouth, wanting to scream: Ethan, you can’t stay. Our daughter is waiting for you to take care of her. Please stop worrying about someone else’s child. Sophie is your real daughter. But it was all futile. I couldn’t make a sound, and they couldn’t hear my cries anyway. Ethan considered for a moment, then relaxed back on the sofa. He replied, “Alright.” The TV blared loudly as Ryan contentedly sat in Ethan’s lap. Olivia snuggled against Ethan’s shoulder, occasionally feeding him fruit. In this moment, they truly looked like the happiest family of three in the world. Seeing Olivia and her son’s smug faces made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t bear to watch their intimate moments any longer, and I was worried sick about Sophie at home. When I floated back home, Sophie was sitting silently beside my body, staring into space. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had just been crying. She brought over her favorite stuffed bunny. The toy was made of cheap materials, and I worried it wasn’t hygienic, so I usually didn’t let her sleep with it. But to coax her, I would always say: “Mommy likes Fluffy too. Why don’t you let me keep him?” That tactic wasn’t very effective – she would usually throw a fit before giving in. But today Sophie lifted my stiff arm and tucked her most treasured toy into my embrace. She said in a small voice: “Mommy, I’m giving you Fluffy. I don’t want him anymore. Please don’t be mad at Sophie.” She hugged my arm and pleaded, “You can sleep with Fluffy now. When you wake up, will you forgive Sophie?” My tears fell but disappeared into thin air. This silly child thought I wasn’t waking up because I was angry with her. But how could I ever be mad at my Sophie? I may have regretted moving far away to marry, and forgiving Ethan time after time. But having Sophie was the one thing I never regretted. She was the most important light in my life, one of the few comforts in my difficult days. If not for Sophie, this world would have lost its appeal for me long ago. I wanted to reach out and hug her, but my ethereal arms passed right through her small body, leaving no trace. The warmth that was once within reach was still so close, yet now completely beyond my grasp. Sophie fell into a deep sleep leaning against me. The weather was getting chilly as autumn approached. When Sophie woke again, she couldn’t stop sneezing. Her little nose turned red, clearly coming down with a cold. But she paid no attention to her discomfort. Her first action upon waking was to check my reaction. Fluffy had slipped out from under my rigid hand onto the floor. Seeing the lifeless toy, Sophie burst into tears. She shook my body, sobbing: “Mommy, do you not want Sophie anymore? You won’t even keep Fluffy?” Perhaps sensing something was wrong, she reached out to feel my cold forehead.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “296102”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn
Leave a Reply