Chapter 2

2 Maybe my resentment ran too deep, because my spirit remained tied to Garrett.

He didn't head to the hospital. Instead, he drove straight to the new suburban house we were supposed to move into after our wedding.

Before he could even unlock the door, Lindy threw it open and leaped into his arms.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his chest.

"Garrett, I was so scared being here all alone."

"Please don't ever leave me by myself again."

Fighting the overwhelming disgust, I drifted right past them into the house.

I had spent an entire year decorating this home with my own hands.

Every piece of furniture and every little design detail was chosen with absolute care.

I had counted down the days until we could start our newlywed life together in this dream home.

Yet here was Garrett, bringing Lindy inside to play house.

It felt like a violent slap in the face.

I glared at Garrett, desperate for him to give me an explanation.

Then I remembered I was dead, and no living person could see me.

"Why are you running around barefoot? You're going to catch a cold," Garrett said gently.

He lifted Lindy in his arms, walking straight through my ghostly form before placing her onto the couch.

Lindy wasn't satisfied with just being coddled. She lowered her head and sobbed softly, acting like a victim.

Garrett grabbed a tissue to wipe her tears, his face full of worry. "Why are you crying? Does something hurt?"

Suddenly, she looked in my direction with wide, terrified eyes, her body trembling violently.

Could Lindy actually see me?

Slowly, Lindy raised a trembling finger, pointing straight at where I stood.

"Every time I see Corina's picture, I get so scared."

"Garrett, I can barely breathe. My chest hurts so much."

She clutched her heart, putting on a show of sheer agony.

Garrett followed her gaze, stood up, and marched directly toward me.

For a fleeting moment, I thought he was looking at me, and I called out his name.

He didn't flinch. He just kept walking.

Just when I thought he would stop, he walked right through my translucent chest.

Behind me came the harsh sound of metal hitting the wall.

I turned around.

He was tearing down our framed wedding portrait.

Only now did I notice how brightly I was smiling in that photo, glowing with genuine happiness.

Garrett, on the other hand, had looked completely empty and detached.

Still unsatisfied, Garrett grabbed a pair of scissors from the counter and slashed the canvas until my smiling face was torn to shreds.

He truly hated me that much.

In the past, I always made excuses for his coldness and cruelty.

Why did it take dying for me to finally see his true colors?

And to think I threw my entire life away for a monster like him.

When we were kids, Garrett and I lived in the same neighborhood cul-de-sac.

He used to wear faded blue athletic jackets, and when he smiled, tiny dimples appeared beneath the warm sunlight.

Back then, I fell completely in love with him, and my whole world revolved around his shadow.

Whenever the neighborhood kids played outside, my eyes were always glued to Garrett.

The way he ran, the intense focus on his face during debates―everything made my heart race.

One summer break, the kids from our block went to the beach outside town.

Garrett rushed straight into the ocean to swim, ignoring every warning sign posted along the shore.

Moments after diving in, an undertow caught him, dragging him under as he thrashed helplessly.

The other kids froze in absolute terror.

In that split second, only one thought crossed my mind.

I could not let Garrett die.

Without hesitation, I plunged into the freezing water and swam toward him with everything I had.

The ocean was bone-chilling, and every stroke felt like tearing through lead, but I forced myself forward.

I managed to grab hold of Garrett and pull him toward the shallows.

In the chaos, thick kelp tangled tightly around my ankles.

Panic swallowed me like a tidal wave as I struggled, only to be dragged deeper down into the dark water.

My lungs burned, my vision blurred, and my consciousness began slipping away, but my hands never let go of Garrett.

Eventually, some nearby adults pulled both of us out of the water.

From that day on, I developed a crippling phobia of deep water.

Whenever I saw deep water, I would shake uncontrollably and struggle for air.

Yet, I never once regretted jumping in that day; as long as Garrett was safe, nothing else mattered.

As the years passed, my love for Garrett only grew stronger.

Garrett, however, never seemed to notice my feelings.

He was always surrounded by pretty girls, and Lindy was the one who captured his heart.

I knew Lindy was his first love.

Whenever they were together, I could only stand quietly in the corner.

Watching them laugh and hold hands tasted like pure acid in my throat.

Years later, Garrett's family suffered a catastrophic financial blow.

His father's business went bankrupt, burying them under crushing debt, and aggressive creditors showed up at their door daily.

Garrett ran everywhere trying to secure loans, but every door was slammed in his face.

When he was completely cornered, I reached out to save him.

I emptied my entire savings account and begged my father to step in and clear his family's debt.

Out of gratitude, Garrett's parents pressured him into marrying me.

Garrett was deeply unwilling, but after his parents practically begged on their knees, he finally agreed.

I was foolish enough to believe fate had handed me a miracle.

I thought he was finally mine.

I poured my heart into setting up our new house, dreaming of giving him the warmest home possible.

I woke up early every morning to cook his breakfast, and I always had warm slippers waiting by the door when he came home.

Yet Garrett treated me like an unwanted stranger, frequently staying out late or not coming home at all.

Deep down, I sensed the danger, but I blindly chose to trust him.