The Ghost Of My Love His Belated Tears

I was always the unwanted child in my family because I had a younger brother. When I met my husband, I thought I had finally found my happily ever after. But when a speeding truck smashed directly into me, my husband was at a concert with my best friend, annoyed and impatiently hanging up on my dying cries for help. My mother was busy throwing a lavish birthday yacht party for my brother, ignoring my calls entirely. And when my family finally learned of my death, my biological parents signed a settlement agreement and dropped all charges without hesitation. My husband even held her hand as he stood before my grave and said: "It’s better that a woman like her is dead." In that exact moment, I finally realized: everyone hated me. So why... why are you the ones weeping for me now? "Stop with these pathetic little tricks. I’m busy. Don’t bother me." The icy voice on the other end of the line chilled me to the bone. "Help me..." I couldn't even care how irritated he sounded. I was dying. Just moments ago, a heavy truck barrelled around the corner, blinding me with its headlights. Before I could even react, the violent impact sent me flying through the air. In that split second, it felt like every single bone in my body shattered. The excruciating pain instantly swallowed my consciousness. I crashed heavily onto the cold asphalt. Rain mingled with my blood, forming small crimson puddles on the dark pavement. I struggled to lift my head, but my vision was blurring, fading into dull shades of gray. I wanted to live... I didn't even have the strength left to dial a number, clinging only to the hope of my emergency SOS contact. Even though I knew he despised me. "I'm not lying... I got hit by a truck. My phone should've sent you my location... Ethan, please... save me." I gasped weakly, my voice practically drowned out by the pouring night rain. A cold sneer came from the receiver, followed by the sound of the call disconnecting. I wanted to live. I wanted to survive so badly. Desperate, I dialed his number again with trembling fingers. "Please... real accident. Help..." I choked on my own blood, tears mixing with the rain streaming down my face, washing away my sight. "I'm begging you." "If you call me one more time, I'm blocking you instantly." His voice was merciless. Then, I heard another woman's hushed whisper in the background. "Phones aren't allowed in the concert hall, Ethan." I recognized that voice. It was my best friend, Hailey. "Right away, sweetheart," he replied, his tone softening instantly. Then, turning back to the call, his voice hardened back into ice: "Stop bothering me. If you really drop dead, I promise I'll buy you the most expensive plot in the cemetery." Listening to the dial tone buzzing in my ear, I had never hated him more than I did right then. Just as I closed my eyes, ready to surrender to death, a passerby finally noticed my crumpled body in the shadows! I was saved. Call 911, call an ambulance, please, I begged silently with every fiber of my being. Yet, the stranger simply stood there, snapped a quick photo of me, and turned around to walk away. A suffocating, dead silence followed. Despair swallowed me whole. The rain poured down harder, icy drops stinging my skin. My consciousness started to slip away, and the world faded into an indistinguishable blur. In the distance, I heard the faint wail of approaching sirens, but it was already too late. My breaths grew shallower and shallower until everything turned into pure darkness. The last thing I felt was bone-chilling cold and an endless, hollow void of loneliness.In the dark void, I felt a strange pulling force dragging my floating soul in a specific direction. Wasn't I dead? Dazed and confused, I let the force guide me forward. When my eyes opened again, I found myself looking at Hailey and Ethan. The two people I knew best in this world. The two people I once believed would love me forever. Ethan Vance was my first love. Back in high school, he used to skip meals and survive on cheap bagels just to save up enough money to buy me gifts. He would pretend my house was on his way home just to walk me back, only to spend an extra hour biking in the opposite direction in the freezing dark. He used to fight off the boys who harassed me, smiling through his bruised and bloody face as he told me: "As long as I'm here, I'll never let anyone hurt you!" So how... how did you become the one hurting me? Hailey and I had been friends since we were toddlers. Her mother was our family's housekeeper, and other kids often picked on her. I had stubbornly insisted on protecting her back then, never dreaming it would end up putting a target on my own back. Those boys who cornered and harassed me in high school? Hailey was the one who sent them. That was when I finally learned she had harbored bitter jealousy and hatred toward me for years. When I was eighteen, my mother and I were thrown out of our house. I fell from an upscale gated community down to a rundown, moldy apartment. My sudden downfall gave her the chance she had always craved—the power to finally crush me under her heel. During our senior year, the very first week of the semester, she casually mentioned to the whole class that my mother had cheated and was dumped by my father. Then, she abruptly turned to me with fake innocence. "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I shouldn't have aired your family business like that." I stared at her in shock. "My mom never cheated on him." "Huh? Then why didn't she get a single penny in the divorce?" Her words sounded like irrefutable proof, instantly convincing everyone that my mother was a cheap cheater. Before long, vile rumors spread like wildfire—from my mom sleeping around to me selling my body to random men every night. No one listened to my explanations. After defending myself countless times to deaf ears, I simply learned to keep my mouth shut. To them, my silence was just an admission of guilt. Shortly after the rumors started, three boys cornered me on my walk home from school. "Heard you sell yourself?" "How much for a night, huh?" They sneered and pushed me violently onto the dirty pavement. One of them pinned me down, straddling my chest. I fought, I screamed—and that was the moment Ethan appeared like a knight in shining armor.The concert hall was packed, and I watched helplessly as Ethan's hand secretly slipped into Hailey's. Drifting weightlessly above them, my heart was drowning in pure despair and rage. Hailey suddenly tilted her head, asking softly, "Do you think Chloe would've liked this concert?" "Her? She doesn't have the taste to appreciate real art." I do! The very first classical concert you ever attended was on a front-row ticket I bought after saving every penny from my minimum-wage job for an entire month! Ethan's father was a wealthy real estate mogul who demanded he inherit the family empire, strictly forbidding him from pursuing the piano. Back when we first met, a world-famous pianist he adored was holding a recital in our city. To thank him for saving me from those bullies, I worked endless shifts at a local boba shop, using my entire month's paycheck to buy him that one front-row ticket. We could only afford a single seat. He sat inside listening to the music, while I sat outside on the curb, waiting in the cold for him to finish. As I was lost in the bitter memories, that familiar pulling force yanked me forward again. When I snapped back to reality, the concert had already ended. Hailey was linked to Ethan's arm as they walked into a luxury revolving rooftop restaurant. Throughout the dinner, he treated her with effortless gentleness and devotion. Floating beside them, I let out a hollow laugh. In all the years before our marriage turned toxic, I practically had to beg him on my knees just to get him to spare an hour to eat with me. He would never waste his precious time on candlelit dinners or fine dining with me. Yet here he was, lingering over wine and candlelight with her. "Hailey, close your eyes." So he was only ever a cold, unyielding stone when facing me. Hailey giggled playfully, covering her eyes with her hands. A second later, a delicate diamond necklace gleamed against her throat. It was shaped like a little fish. I had loved fish ever since I was a little girl. Ethan had once promised me: He said he would build me the most beautiful aquarium, buy me the finest fish necklace, and propose to me with a custom fish-shaped diamond ring. I stared at the sparkling pendant in complete disbelief. "A fish?" "To a future full of endless abundance and joy," Ethan smiled at her tenderly. It was New Year's Eve. Memory hit me like a physical blow—I had left the house in the rain that night specifically to pick up his New Year's gift. "Doesn't Chloe love fish jewelry?" Hailey pouted slightly, pretending to be uncomfortable. "This necklace cost six figures. A woman like her doesn't deserve something this exquisite. Only you do, Hailey." Ethan leaned forward, gently tapping Hailey's nose to coax a smile out of her. "Fine, I suppose I'll accept it then," Hailey beamed radiantly. Under the warm glow of the chandelier, they looked like the picture-perfect couple. And what was I? What did I amount to in his eyes? I had loved him with every beat of my heart, only to end up a ghost forced to witness their stolen bliss. I wanted to scream until my lungs gave out, but no sound escaped my lips.The next two days passed in eerie tranquility. I discovered that an invisible tether bound me, trapping my soul within thirty feet of Ethan Vance. I was a prisoner of his presence. I was forced to watch them go shopping, grab brunch, visit theme parks— doing every single romantic thing Ethan had adamantly refused to do with me. What cruel irony. When I was breathing, I begged just to catch a glimpse of him and was denied. Now that I longed for nothing more than to leave this world behind, I was forced to haunt his shadow day and night. On the third day, the police finally called him in to identify a body. I followed him to the precinct, where I came face-to-face with my own corpse. Mangled, broken, and unrecognizable. Ethan looked as if my battered remains were dirtying his vision. He took a brief, detached glance before letting the white sheet fall back over my face. His expression was pitch-black, a strange, unreadable shadow flickering in his downcast eyes. As he walked out of the morgue, I saw my mother standing at the end of the sterile hallway. Her face was haggard, her eyes bloodshot. "Why didn't you save her?!" Ethan replied coldly, "If she hadn't schemed to trap me in the first place, we wouldn't have had anything to do with each other." "Schemed to trap you?!" My mother’s voice instantly rose to a shrill pitch. Floating helplessly in the air, a wave of suffocating sorrow and fury crashed over me. "No, I never lied to you..." I tried to speak, but I couldn't. Invisible tears spilled down my spectral cheeks. I loved him. That, at least, was real. A bitter sneer curved Ethan's lips. "You two are cut from the exact same cloth." "She tricked me, and you? What are you playing the saint for? Weren't you out chartering a luxury yacht to throw a massive birthday party for your golden son the night she died?" My mother’s face instantly drained of color. "That... that was because..." "Because you never gave a damn about her!" Ethan leaned against the wall, his gaze piercing. "Every single month, you came crying poverty, demanding money from her. You knew damn well she didn't have a job—do you have any idea how much of my money went into supporting your habits over the years?" "Just to fund your spoiled brat’s lavish parties?" "If you had the cash to rent a yacht, why didn't you spare a single dime to help her when she was struggling?" Ethan's relentless accusations hammered into her. My mother stood there, trembling violently. So... she had money all along. Ever since graduating from college, I barely worked outside the home. After high school, my mother remarried and had a baby boy. She constantly cried to me, claiming my stepdad abused her and refused to give them any allowance. My heart broke for her. I starved myself, living on scraps, sending every penny I earned back to her. Even after I married Ethan, she demanded more and more money. I thought my stepdad's cruelty was escalating. I never once imagined this was the sickening truth. Ha. And here I thought my own mother loved me. How utterly ridiculous. In the end, not a single person on this earth was mourning my death. "I already signed the organ and body donation forms," Ethan said, turning toward the precinct exit. "Why won't you let her have a proper burial?!" "A proper burial?" Ethan seemed to hear the world's funniest joke. "Are you paying for the funeral expenses?" My mother went completely silent. Ethan scoffed, turning on his heel and walking out the door. Look at that. I lived an entire lifetime, only to die without anyone willing to buy me a grave. Ethan Vance, you lied to me again. You were the one who promised that if I died, you would buy me the most expensive plot in the cemetery.