Chapter 4
Steve brought the freshly made noodles to Evelyn.
When she coyly asked him to feed her, he agreed without hesitation, spooning small bites into her mouth.
The scene before me was both tender and cruel.
“Steve, I’m full.”
As soon as Steve stopped, Evelyn leaned in and kissed him on the lips.
I couldn’t bear to watch anymore and tried to flee.
But as soon as I drifted more than five
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meters away from Steve, a searing pain. enveloped my soul, worse than the agony of being crushed by the truck.
I screamed, only to be forcefully pulled back to Steve’s side.
After several attempts, the pain left me on the verge of unconsciousness. That’s when I finally realized–I couldn’t stray too far from Steve.
Or rather, I couldn’t leave him at all.
I watched, numb, as the two continued in the
room.
Added to the library
Evelyn leaned back against Steve’s chest, her breath shallow. “Steve, you still love me.”
Steve suddenly stopped and stared into her eyes. “Yes.”
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“But I also hate you.”
Evelyn’s breath hitched.
He gently caressed her face, his dark eyes filled with both affection and resignation. With a sigh, he added, “But I miss you even
more.”
I let out a bitter laugh. My heart had grown numb to the pain, but silent tears still streamed down my face.
Feigning curiosity, Evelyn asked, “Steve, do you love Henrieta? You’ve been with her for so many years–do you love her?”
Steve froze for a brief moment, and I caught the flicker of confusion in his eyes.
The answer was clear.
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“But I also hate you.””
Evelyn’s breath hitched.
He gently caressed her face, his dark eyes filled with both affection and resignation. With a sigh, he added, “But I miss you even more.”
I let out a bitter laugh. My heart had grown numb to the pain, but silent tears still streamed down my face.
Feigning curiosity, Evelyn asked, “Steve, do you love Henrieta? You’ve been with her for so many years–do you love her?”
Steve froze for a brief moment, and I caught the flicker of confusion in his eyes.
The answer was clear.
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Even smiet saisie ter sender fingers tracing the contours of Steve’s face before Asssing him agam.
Steve responded to her with shallow humed
ineatis
“Steve he lost eventing. You
TE TO
leave
Herrieta was just a stand–in. Now that I’m back divorce her
Evelyn’s hands deftly began unbuttoning Steve’s shirt. My vision blurred with tears, and isqueszed my eyes shut unwilling to Withers more
But in the stillness of the room, every breath they took, every touch between them, seared
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I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.
“Eve, we can’t.”
Steve’s strained voice reached my ears, thick with restraint.
“Why not? What, are you afraid Henrieta will be hurt?” Evelyn’s tone held a note of confusion and a hint of provocation.
Another heavy silence followed.
I couldn’t help but open my eyes, holding onto a sliver of desperate hope as I looked at Steve.
His handsome face showed a sharp edge as he spoke, “You’re pregnant. We can’t risk it.”
His answer shattered any last remnants of
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my foolish hope.
I watched him with bitter irony, the light in my eyes extinguished completely.
How could I have forgotten? He never cared about how I felt.
His heart had always belonged to Evelyn.
I cried and cried, until I finally laughed.
Evelyn slept soundly, clearly exhausted.
Steve gently tucked the blanket around her and then quietly left the room.
I watched his weary figure retreat, feeling nothing but cold.
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How long had it been since he’d treated me with such tenderness?
I couldn’t remember.
Steve made his way to the kitchen, opening the fridge. His eyes settled on the cake at the very back.
I had spent the entire day yesterday making it.
He stared at the cake for a long time, his expression complicated, as if he were looking through it at me.
Finally, he reached for his phone.
I watched as he found my name in his blacklist, and my heart clenched painfully.
He removed me from the blacklist.
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The chat history still displayed the 40–second voice message where he had harshly warned me.
Steve stared at the screen, his long fingers drumming absentmindedly against the phone.
I knew this was what he did whenever he was torn.
I spoke coldly, “Steve, what are you conflicted about?”
Of course, he couldn’t hear me.
After a long pause, he finally typed a message.
“Stop this nonsense and come home. Today is our wedding anniversary. I don’t want any
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more drama.”
The message sent successfully, but no reply came from me.
He frowned, clearly displeased.
Our wedding anniversary.
So, he still remembered.
This was the first time since we got married that I hadn’t spent our anniversary with him.
Every year, I would prepare a special gift and surprise, cook a table full of his favorite dishes, and wait for him to come home, greeting him with a smile: “Happy anniversary, darling!”
But this year, there would be none of that.
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From now on, there would never be another.
Because I was dead.
