Chapter 3

The waiter returned soon afterward.

He looked a little panicky, but when he saw Justin's dark expression, he forced himself to calm down. "Sir, there's... No one on the terrace."

"No one?" Justin frowned deeply and asked, "Did she run off?"

"She must have," the waiter said, keeping his head down.

He did not dare mention the high heel left on the terrace or that the snow beneath the railing looked unusual.

It was better to avoid trouble. Who would want to risk spoiling the boss's celebration?

"Good riddance, I guess," Justin sighed in relief, contempt flashing in his eyes. "I knew she was just putting on an act. A minute ago, she acted as though she were going to die at any time. Then, she slipped away the moment no one was looking. That disgusting woman is full of lies."

Kelly felt much more relieved, too, and she patted her chest. "I'm glad she left. I was honestly afraid she might do something drastic."

"Something drastic?" Justin scoffed with his arm around Kelly's waist. "She values her life more than anyone. There's nothing she wouldn't do for the wealth, status, and position of my wife.

"Don't worry. She'll refuse to die even if there is no one else in this world."

It felt as though an invisible blade had just cut my heart to pieces.

Even though my heart was no longer beating, the sense of suffocation still made me want to curl into a ball.

'So, that was how you saw me? A vain woman obsessed with wealth and terrified of death?

'Justin… Have you forgotten that you were the one who begged me to marry you?

'You were the one who stood outside my home all night in the snow and swore you would treat me well for the rest of my life.'

Those promises from the past sounded like a cruel joke now.

The party continued.

A huge three-tiered cake was soon wheeled in.

Justin held Kelly's hand, and they cut the cake together.

The smell of sweet cream and frosting filled the air. It was sickeningly sweet.

I floated beside the cake and looked at the delicate sugar figures on top. They really did look just like them.

For the past six months, stomach cancer had made it almost impossible for me to eat.

I had stayed alive through IV drips.

I had almost forgotten what cake tasted like.

I reached out, wanting to scoop up a little frosting and taste it.

My fingertip passed straight through the frosting, moving only the faintest flowing of air.

I could not even have a single bite of something sweet anymore.

Disappointed, I pulled my hand back. I crouched beneath the table and hugged my transparent knees.

'It's okay.

'After all... I won't feel hungry anymore.

'It's really... Okay.'

I repeated those words to myself, but tears welled and rolled down my cheeks anyway.

Could ghosts cry too?

If they could, their tears had to be the most bitter in the world.