LOGINOn Christmas Eve, I giddily wait for my husband, Hunter Gibson, to come home while nursing my eight-month pregnancy. Unexpectedly, Hunter bursts through the front door with his childhood friend, Winter Jones, in his arms. I attempt to help him out, only to get shoved to the floor instead. My belly bumps into a corner of the coffee table, causing pain to shoot up my nerves. Cold sweat soon beads on my forehead, and yet Hunter doesn't even spare me another glance. "Get out of my way! Someone drugged Winnie's drink at the bar! If I don't purge the poison out of her, she'll die!" As I shield my belly, I dig out my phone. "I'll call an ambulance for her—" But Hunter snatches my phone away before hurling it at the floor, breaking it into splinters. Then, he grabs me by the neck angrily. "Are you trying to ruin Winnie's reputation? If word gets out, how is she going to live with her head hung high?" In order to prevent me from "ruining his plan", Hunter decides to trap me on the balcony while disregarding my pleas and the fact that I'm only wearing thin pajamas. "You should take some time to cool off! Once you've finally learned your lesson, you're only permitted entry!" I can only slam my palms onto the glass door desperately with tears running down my face. There, I'm forced to watch as Hunter and Winter go at it like desperate rabbits on the carpet in the living room, with the Christmas songs serving as their ambiance. A heavy snowfall has occurred that night. At the crack of dawn the next morning, Hunter finally remembers that I exist. He calls my number, yet my phone was turned off. Furious, Hunter yells, "Where the hell did you go? Winnie's stomach is in discomfort! Get your ass back here right now and cook her some soup!" What he doesn't know is that I'm right outside the balcony door. The thing is, dead people are incapable of answering phone calls, not to mention Hunter has already broken my phone, to begin with.
View MoreThree years later, on Christmas Eve, a familiar tragedy repeated from that night.Another heavy snowfall, another night where the snow sealed the doors shut. Inside the haunted villa, it bore no difference from an ice cellar.It had been three days since Hunter last ate anything. He could feel his life slowly slipping away as easily as a feather drifting along the wind.He leaned against the freezing wall, clutching the blood-stained diary and the yellowed ultrasound report. "Stella, it's Christmas Eve again… Say, do you think there will be a surprise this year?"His cracked lips moved slightly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a match he had picked up from the roadside. With a scratch, the match ignited.A tiny flame flickered in the darkness, the weak light reflecting in his cloudy eyes.Just as the match was about to burn out, Hunter slipped into a dying hallucination. The darkness before his eyes faded. Instead, the ruined villa was restored to its glorious state fro
I didn't know if it was mercy from the universe, but somehow, Hunter survived.I hovered midair in the ICU, watching coldly as he was tortured by the stomach pump, his body writhing in pain. The timing of his assistant breaking in was almost too perfect, perfect enough to make me sick.When Hunter opened his eyes, his throat was raw and swollen from the tube. When he spoke, his voice sounded like a broken machine. "Why'd you save me? I wanna be with Stella…"His assistant didn't answer. Instead, he threw a document onto the bedside table. "Gibson Group is done, sir."The stock price had collapsed. Investors pulled out. Partners terminated their contracts. And after spending the past month throwing money around like a madman to build a case against Winter, the company finally ran out of cash. The man who once held enough power to make the entire city tremble with a single move was now drowning in debt. People now avoided and looked down on him.I thought Hunter would lose his min
Mom and Dad came to the house a week after my death.Within days, they looked as if they had aged a decade, their hair grayer than ever. Dad came holding a stick, ready to beat the man who had killed his daughter to death.Hunter didn't dodge. He knelt on the floor and let every blow land on his back. The hits tore his skin open, yet he didn't make a sound."Mom, Dad… Please let me stay with Stella a little longer…" he pleaded humbly, head on the floor.Mom looked at Hunter's broken, barely human figure. There was no sympathy in her eyes, just a hatred born from unbearable grief.She pulled out a thick diary from her coat—its corners worn from years of use—and threw it at his face."We found this while sorting through her belongings. Read it carefully and see what you missed over the past three years! Most importantly, I want you to see what kind of monster you'd been to her!"That was my pregnancy diary.Hunter's trembling hands slowly opened it. The first page was written a y
Hunter went mad.After finishing his statement at the police station, the first thing he did was go to the funeral home and take my body back. Ignoring everyone's objections, he spent a fortune having a temperature-controlled glass coffin made.He then placed it right smack in the middle of the living room. The place he had once deemed unpleasant and detestable had now become his sanctuary.Not only did he not move out, but he even tore down the balcony door, the very one where my frozen fingers had clawed at. The freezing wind howled through the open space and poured into the villa.The temperature inside became just as cold as outside.Hunter sat beside the coffin, wearing just a thin white shirt, barefoot. His lips had turned blue from the cold. Frost covered his eyelashes. Still, he refused to put on a coat or turn on the heater."Stella must've felt colder than this," he murmured, holding my hand through the glass. "I'll stay with you. Only when I'm freezing will you believe












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