Three years after my death, my husband finally remembered me. The reason? His childhood friend Faye’s leukemia had relapsed, and she needed another bone marrow transplant. He came to the house where I used to live, intending to have me sign a donation agreement. But he found the place long abandoned. He asked the neighbors about me. “You mean Chloe? She’s been dead for years!” one replied. “I heard she was forced to donate bone marrow while she was sick. She passed away just days after returning home.” He refused to believe it, convinced the neighbors were conspiring with me to deceive him. Irritated, he snapped at them, “If you see her, tell her this: if she doesn’t show up in three days, I won’t pay another cent for that bastard child’s medical bills.” As he stormed off, the neighbor shook her head and muttered, “Poor child… he starved to death long ago.” Three years after death, my son and I were still restless spirits. Our attachments to this world were too strong, preventing us from moving on to the next life. Meanwhile, my husband Harrison had clawed his way up from the bottom of society, transforming into an enviable new business tycoon. I had betrayed him when he was at his lowest point. So he hated me. He wanted to flay me alive. Three years ago, he forced me to donate bone marrow to Faye while I was ill. Bone marrow extraction is invasive. Whether due to a procedural error or my weakened immune system, I developed a severe infection a week after the surgery. I fell into a coma with a high fever and died at home. My three-year-old son, left with no one to care for him, eventually died by my side. In those three years, Harrison never came to see us, not even a single phone call. Now, I held my son Timmy’s small hand as we floated in the air, watching Harrison kick our old front gate repeatedly. Three years without seeing each other, and he had changed so much. His eyes were cold and unfeeling. Familiar yet strange. Behind him stood Faye, wearing a mask and dressed to the nines. Her rosy cheeks and well-proportioned figure showed no signs of illness. Timmy, frightened by the loud banging, hid in my embrace. He looked up at me, his bright eyes a mix of excitement and fear. “Mommy, has Daddy finally remembered us? It’s been so long since he came to see us.” “But he looks angry. Did I do something to upset him?” “And who’s that lady standing there?” I stroked his head, my heart aching. My throat felt constricted, unable to utter a word. “Chloe, get out here now! Stop pretending to be dead!” Harrison shouted into the yard. The commotion drew the attention of Mrs. Johnson next door. She came out and asked Harrison, “Young man, who are you looking for? This house has been empty for a long time.” Harrison composed himself and asked, “Doesn’t Chloe live here? Has she moved?” Mrs. Johnson’s expression darkened. She sighed, “You mean Chloe? She died three years ago.” Harrison froze for a moment. Mrs. Johnson continued, “I heard she was forced to donate bone marrow while she was sick. She passed away just days after returning home. It’s such a tragedy.” Faye’s expression changed, her face turning pale. She protested weakly, “Ma’am, please don’t say such things. Donating bone marrow is safe; it doesn’t kill people.” “If she didn’t want to donate to me, she could have just said so. There’s no need to curse herself like this. It’s bad luck.” She spoke loudly, as if I might be eavesdropping from inside the house. Harrison, who had been in shock, suddenly relaxed upon hearing Mrs. Johnson’s words. A mocking smile appeared on his face. “Does she find it amusing to keep up this act? If she’s going to lie, she should at least make it believable. She should check if there are any cases of people dying from bone marrow donation.” Mrs. Johnson, confused by their conversation, simply repeated, “The poor thing was found dead in the house after several days…” Harrison’s face turned cold. He said to Mrs. Johnson, “I don’t know why you’re conspiring with her to deceive me, but please tell her this: if she doesn’t show up to donate bone marrow to Faye within three days, don’t blame me for cutting off the dialysis treatment for that bastard child she’s raising.” Mrs. Johnson was stunned. She shook her head and sighed, preparing to return to her own house. Harrison called out coldly behind her, “Remember! I’m only giving her three days. If she doesn’t appear, I won’t transfer a single penny for living expenses this month. Let her watch that bastard die right in front of her.” As she turned away, Mrs. Johnson’s eyes reddened. She muttered to herself, “That poor child starved to death long ago. If only I had gone to check on them, I might have been able to save him…” “Harrison, is it possible that Chloe doesn’t want to donate bone marrow to me, so she’s hiding?” Faye asked, her expression on the verge of tears. Harrison affectionately ruffled her hair. “Silly girl, it’s just a little leukemia. Even if Chloe doesn’t donate, I’ll search the whole country to find a suitable match for you.” Faye pouted, “But Chloe’s bone marrow is almost a perfect match for my body. The doctor said he’s never seen two people with such a high degree of compatibility.” Harrison glanced at the locked gate, his tone filled with determination and promise: “Then for your sake, I’ll move heaven and earth to find her!” At that moment, my heart couldn’t help but ache again. Looking at the two people standing before me, memories from years ago flooded back. Harrison and I were college classmates. Back then, he was like the morning sun piercing through a thin mist – warm and radiant. I fell for him first. We got together after graduating from college. I once saw him as my salvation, my whole world revolving around him. I followed him into his startup, sharing in the hardships. He promised to take care of me for life. At first, he really did. But ideals eventually gave way to reality. In the early days of his business, I often accompanied him to negotiate deals. That’s when I met Luke Jenkins, the heir to the Radiant Group. Luke was a spoiled rich kid who worked just for the experience. Ever since he met me, he buzzed around me like a fly, even trying to get handsy when drunk. Finally, during one incident when Luke tried to embrace me while intoxicated, Harrison smashed a wine bottle over his head. Because of this incident, we not only lost the Radiant Group contract but also had to pay all our savings to keep Luke from sending Harrison to jail. Of course, what we actually paid was far more than just money. That night, he held me in his arms and apologized. He said he was sorry, that when he succeeded one day, he would never let anyone bully me again. Indeed, after he succeeded, no one else bullied me. Only he did. I don’t want to reminisce anymore. I looked at that face, unseen for years yet colder and more unfeeling than ever. The stifling summer wind tousled his hair, deepening his already furrowed brow. He looked lost in thought. He held Faye in his arms, his gaze fixed on the waist-high weeds at the gate. The year I “betrayed” Harrison was our second year of marriage. By then, I was already over a month pregnant. But neither of us knew about it yet. At that time, Harrison’s business had started to show promise and had attracted several investors. It should have been smooth sailing, but for some reason, we suddenly hit a major setback. Even the investments we had secured were all withdrawn. The cash flow dried up, and our products started having one problem after another. We defaulted on our bank loans, and the mortgaged house, car, and factory were all about to be repossessed and auctioned off. During those days, Harrison couldn’t eat or sleep. To make matters worse, Harrison’s mother was diagnosed with cancer that year, requiring a huge sum for treatment. I pulled some strings to investigate the cause and discovered that the person sabotaging Harrison’s company was none other than Luke Jenkins, the man Harrison had hit with a wine bottle years ago. And now, he had come to me. He said he could arrange for Radiant Group’s investment arm to inject capital into Harrison’s company and even pay for his mother’s treatment. I knew he must have conditions. Would the devil do charity out of kindness? If he didn’t want my life, he must want something even more important than life itself. I asked him what was the point of doing this. Luke sneered, “I do it because I want to. What other reason do I need? I just enjoy watching you insects, furious yet helpless against me.” “Besides, I haven’t paid him back for cracking my skull open back then. It’s time for him to pay up.” I couldn’t understand Luke. He had a hundred ways to make Harrison’s life miserable, yet he chose me. Years later, I still vividly remember the scene that day. In a dimly lit private room, Luke held me on his lap. Harrison, walking in with the contract in hand, froze when he saw us. His eyes reddened as he asked hoarsely, “Why?” I told him, “You can’t give me the life I want, but Luke can…” Luke laughed loudly. His greasy hand pinched my waist. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand arrows. Despite the utter humiliation, I forced a coquettish laugh and playfully dodged. “Harrison, isn’t this good? I help you get resources, you sign a contract with Radiant, it’s win-win.” Disappointment gradually filled Harrison’s eyes. But he still resolutely reached out to me: “Chloe, come here! I don’t need you to do this. Whatever life you want, I’ll work hard to give it to you in the future.” His tone was pleading, his expression so miserable. At that moment, my heart felt like it was being crushed by a thousand-pound stone, making it almost impossible to breathe. He said, “Chloe, I don’t have to sign today’s contract. Come home with me…” The once confident and proud man, who hadn’t hesitated to smash a wine bottle over the head of Radiant’s heir, was now begging so humbly. Luke laughed, triumphant and carefree. “Harrison, look at the woman you cherished. She’s no different from the rest. With just a crook of my finger, she crawled into my bed.” “So tell me, what was the point of smashing that bottle over my head back then? Haha…” Harrison ignored his words, just staring fixedly at me. I smiled, wrapping my arms around Luke’s neck, and said to Harrison, “That’s right, honey. Don’t take things so seriously. Just let it go.” I don’t remember much of what happened later that night. I only remember him signing the contract, his eyes blood-red as he said to me: “Chloe, in this life, we’ll never be done with each other!” After that, he threw himself into his work like a madman. In just a few short years, he grew his startup into a listed company, even becoming an industry leader last year. He had succeeded. And I had become the biggest stain on his life. Of course, I didn’t show up during the three-day deadline he gave. Harrison came to our little house again. Timmy excitedly circled around his father, placing his transparent little hand into Harrison’s large one hanging by his side. He turned back to me, jubilant: “Mommy, I’m finally holding hands with Daddy!” My eyes stung with unshed tears as I forced a smile for him. All these years, Harrison had believed Timmy was Luke’s child, despising him and refusing to even look at him. Although I had done a paternity test proving their biological father-son relationship, he still refused to believe it, thinking I had paid for a fake report. Ever since that night, I had lost all credibility with Harrison. I asked him for a divorce. I wanted to end this toxic relationship too. But he just glared at me viciously: “Chloe, remember, you owe me for life. I told you we’d never be done with each other.” “Divorce? Dream on!” He brought countless women home to spend the night, being intimate with them right in front of me. Whenever I tried to argue, he’d tell me to think about how dirty I was when I rolled around with Luke. This situation continued until Faye returned to the country. After she came back into his life, he cut off all contact with those other women. The two of them openly went everywhere together. Even Harrison’s business partners referred to Faye as “Mrs. Ford.” My thoughts returned to the present. I watched as Harrison stood at the gate, calling my phone. The automated voice informed him the number was no longer in service. He frowned, opening my SnapChat. The last message there was still the one he had sent three days ago, urging me to come forward and do the bone marrow matching for Faye. Of course, I hadn’t replied. He opened my photo feed, pausing when he saw a picture I had posted four years ago. It was a candid shot I had taken – him sitting on the sofa, two-year-old Timmy hugging his arm, resting his adorable little head on Harrison’s shoulder. I thought it was a beautiful moment and captured it, but the next second he had pushed Timmy away in disgust. He stared at the enlarged profile picture for a long while, then returned to the chat window to send me a message, “Chloe, you brought this on yourself. The three-day deadline is up. From today on, I won’t transfer another penny for your living expenses.” He waited for a long time, but still no reply. He then kicked the gate hard in frustration. Timmy, who had been happily circling around Harrison, was startled by this sudden action and began trembling in fear. His lip quivered as he burst into tears and ran into my arms: “Mommy, what’s wrong with Daddy? I’m scared…” I held him close, comforting him: “Don’t be afraid, Timmy. Daddy can’t hurt you anymore. Look, there are butterflies over there. Do you want to fly over and play with them for a bit?” I tried to distract him. Timmy turned his head and saw several butterflies fluttering nearby. He broke into a smile through his tears, quickly wiped his eyes, and flew towards the butterflies. After kicking the gate a couple of times, Harrison became even more agitated. He kept massaging his temples, then pulled out his phone and made a call. “Hello, is this the locksmith?” … Half an hour later. Harrison pushed open the cobweb-covered gate. The grass in the yard was even taller than at the entrance, reaching up to Harrison’s waist. The place had clearly been abandoned for a long time. He stood in the yard, hesitating to go further. He had been here twice before and should have remembered that I kept the yard well-maintained, not like the overgrown mess before him now. The first time he came was to drop off Timmy and me. Two-year-old Timmy had just been diagnosed with uremia, caused by congenital kidney underdevelopment. Disgusted by Timmy’s “bad luck,” Harrison bought this small farmhouse in a remote village and made us move here. He transferred $2,000 a month for living expenses, which included Timmy’s dialysis treatment costs. The second time he came to this little house was to forcibly take me to do bone marrow matching for his “true love” Faye. If he still remembered, he would surely recall that the yard was full of hydrangeas and roses. I had even made a swing for Timmy. While he was still lost in thought, Faye called again. Her voice sounded weak: “Harrison, have you seen Chloe? Will she come for the matching today?” Harrison reassured her: “I’ll handle this. You just focus on following the doctor’s treatment. Don’t worry.” Faye’s voice choked up: “I know Chloe probably doesn’t want to donate bone marrow to me again. I understand. She’s already saved me once; I can’t be greedy and ask her to save me a second time. I don’t blame her for hiding now, really…” It was as if she was confirming that I was deliberately hiding because I didn’t want to donate bone marrow to her. Harrison was silent for a few seconds. To my surprise, he didn’t take Faye’s side this time. He said, “It’s not like that. I haven’t been able to contact her yet. How could she know about your leukemia relapse in advance to hide?” Faye was taken aback. She quickly explained, “Harrison, you misunderstood. That’s not what I meant.” Harrison cut her off: “Faye, don’t worry. As long as Chloe is still alive in this world, I will find her. Even if she’s dead, I’ll make sure she donates bone marrow to you before she dies.” Faye seemed relieved after hearing this. After hanging up, Harrison stood in front of the house door for a long time. Although the door wasn’t locked, he still didn’t push it open. If he had opened it, he would have seen… Two body outlines drawn in white chalk. Those were the outlines the police had drawn after Timmy and I had died. But he just stood there. In the end, he retreated from the yard and bought a new lock from the locksmith to secure the gate. I noticed a strange phenomenon. As long as we followed Harrison, we could leave the place that had been constraining us.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “296239”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #校园School
Leave a Reply