The Ghost of Lost Love

When Grayson Blackwood arrived at the earthquake site, both Alice Blackwood and I were trapped beneath a massive boulder. I couldn't move an inch; the weight pinned me down, sending a sharp, dragging pain through my abdomen. A cold dread settled in my chest—I knew the baby inside me wasn't doing well. I hadn't heard a single sound from Alice, and worry gnawed at me. Despite my own dire condition, I forced myself to comfort her. "Don't be scared, Alice," I whispered hoarsely. "Your brother will come to save us soon." This morning, Grayson and I had quarreled over Alice. We were in the midst of a cold war, but even so, I believed he'd come for us. After all, I was carrying his child. Even if he didn't care for me, surely he cared about the baby. But I overestimated the weight of my existence in his heart—and our child's too. When it came down to saving one of us first, he looked at me, his voice as icy as the ground beneath us. "I have to save Alice first." "What?" I thou

Grayson witnessed the entire scene with his own eyes. "Belle, if anything happens to Alice, I will never forgive you for the rest of my life." From that moment on, Grayson's disdain for me deepened, growing colder with each passing day. He even brought up divorce. I clung to him desperately, refusing to let go, but our marriage was already teetering on the edge, hanging by a thread. Alice had always been a thorn between us—sharp, immovable, impossible to ignore or remove. I looked at Grayson now and wondered: if he knew I was dead, would he feel relieved that he was finally free of me? Grayson's phone rang. He answered it, not bothering to put it on speaker. I drifted closer, curious. Could it be someone calling to report my death? I studied his face intently, waiting to see his reaction when he learned I was gone.But when I glanced at the screen, I froze. The caller ID displayed my name. The voice that came through the line was unmistakably mine. "Grayson, I can'

As I looked back, it all made sense now. His partiality toward Alice wasn't just favoritism—it was love. Because the person he truly loved was Alice, nothing and no one else mattered when she was involved. Even his mother tried her best to persuade him to check on me, but Grayson wouldn't budge. Then his phone buzzed with a message notification. He glanced at the screen, his face tightening in anger. "Mom, stop it already," he said, his voice rising. "She's incorrigible! Just because I saved Alice first, she's threatening me with divorce. She says if I don't kick Alice out of the house, she'll abort the baby. She's pure toxic, that's what she is!" His fury darkened his face, and his tone was sharp enough to cut. Curious, I floated closer to him and peeked at his phone. Sure enough, the message was from me—or at least, it appeared to be. But I was dead.I turned my gaze to Alice, suspicion blooming in my chest. Who else but her could orchestrate something like this? "You ungr

When they arrived at the hospital, Grayson was sitting beside Alice, carefully spooning chicken porridge into her mouth with the tenderness of a doting lover. I watched them, their actions as intimate as those of a couple deeply in love. The sight still stung, but the pain had dulled. Perhaps it was because I was already dead; what could any of it matter now? Death had a way of making even the most bitter grievances seem trifling. At least they could no longer disgust me the way they had when I was alive. It was Liam who exploded first. His eyes burned with fury as he caught sight of Grayson gazing fondly at Alice, the scene enough to ignite his anger to a boiling point. Without a word, he stormed forward and landed a punch square on Grayson's face, knocking him to the ground. "You bastard!" Liam roared, raining punches and kicks on Grayson. "My sister must've been blind to fall for a scum like you! She just died, and you're here playing house with this shameless tramp! How could

The scene before me was like a knife slicing through my heart—a tender tableau of affection and shared understanding. There they were, the two of them, perfectly in sync, as if the rest of the world didn't exist. If I were still alive, I would undoubtedly have been the thorn in their side, the obstacle in their love story. Turns out, falling out of love doesn't take years; it takes but a moment. And in that instant, the obsessive love I had clung to for Grayson vanished like smoke in the wind. Yet, as I watched him soothing Alice with soft whispers, promising her happiness, the ache in my chest didn't subside. It was an ache that no longer belonged to love but to something far more bitter. I thought letting go of Grayson would set me free. But even in death, I was tethered to him, unable to leave. I followed him as he left the hospital after coaxing Alice to sleep. He drove with purpose, and I, like a phantom shadow, drifted along in his wake. I followed him as he made his roun