After I Died My Boyfriend Went Crazy นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I just couldn't let it happen no matter what, but I was open to going out with him like this, I loved it so much. After such an awesome date, my boyfriend took me home and sent me right into unconsciousness, fucking me with something akin to anger, which triggered it. It was the most intense one yet, I woke up the next morning still struggling to breathe, and the guy was functioning like he didn't just do that to me! We finished packing for our trip and boarded the jet with Adrianna and Ian. I had to sit with Adrianna to give myself a break from Trey because he was really consuming all my thoughts.

“Like I ruined things between us.” He stops walking. Levi sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that… I haven’t told you about it.” I say nothing, waiting for him to continue. “My boyfriend died. Two years ago. It broke me. I haven’t really let anyone in since. You’re the first. And I guess last night scared me because… I liked it. I liked kissing you. A lot. And it felt like maybe I was moving on too fast.” My chest constricts “Levi… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

The night I was taken to the hospital, my girlfriend, Lila Hart, signed the Do Not Resuscitate form without hesitation. To the world, she announced that I had died beyond saving. The internet cheered. When the news reached my parents, they seemed to have aged ten years overnight. Crushed by grief, they both took their own lives. After death, my soul hovered helplessly, forced to watch them go. Rage burned so hot that I refused to move on or cross into whatever came next.

I glanced at the two of them but didn't expose their lies. Instead, I feigned amnesia. "Jonah, since you're my boyfriend, why don't you take me home?" The man named Jonah Mullen nodded and went to handle my discharge procedures. Meanwhile, my real boyfriend, Eric Cobb, stood silently to the side. In the end, it was Jonah who took me home. I quietly stepped out of the room and overheard him talking on the phone in the living room.

“Charles, I know you are listening. Have you caused enough drama? “It’s all my fault. I’ve been too selfish. I’ve always loved you. Can you forgive me? Can we start over? “We can go abroad. They have the most advanced treatments. You’ll get better…” “Debbie…” My voice was hoarse and weary. I did not have the energy to entertain her. She responded eagerly, “Yes! I’m listening!” I said, “Let’s end things peacefully.” Then, I hung up and blocked her number. I lay on the bed, drenched in sweat. I felt the pain in every fiber of my being. I was forced to remain fully conscious, fully aware. The next morning, Jimmy carried me out to the rocking chair in the garden, “Charles, this is my first time

He reached for my glass. I pulled it away. “I’m not drunk.” “It’s true,” I continued, my words tumbling out faster now, tripping over each other. “And I didn’t know she killed him. I thought my boyfriend’s father killed my dad. So I killed my boyfriend’s father.” Adrian froze. “I found out later my mom was the one who ordered it,” I said, my voice cracking. “So my life is ruined. And my boyfriend—no, ex—hates me now. His brothers hate me. My best friend hates me too.”

His loud groans increased and his dick turned more woody, standing more erect like ebony. "Do you do this to him too?" His sudden question prompted me to look at him. I assumed he was drunk and continued slurping on him but he repeated the question again. "Do you do this to your boyfriend too?" I chuckled, tilting my head to the side. What did the mean? I only had a bastard boyfriend and he was dead. He killed him with his own hands. I watched him die. Maybe he was drunk. "I don't have a boyfriend, Alessandro." I replied him with a little smile. "And if you meant Julian, you should know he's dead and six feets below."

Slowly, he stepped back and closed the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and glanced back at the cake. A small smile tugged at my lips, but it quickly faded as reality set in. This was my mom’s boyfriend—the man she was planning to marry. The thought hit me like a wave, suddenly overwhelming the brief moment of levity I’d felt. I arched my brows, without a second thought, I marched to the bathroom, tossed it into the toilet, and flushed it away. The satisfaction was immediate. With that done, I headed downstairs to the dining room.

I stare blankly at him. Whoever he is. He glances back at the road, paying attention to where he was driving for a second. But I couldn't help looking at him, letting the words process in my brain. "Jasper is dead," I say clearly, more to myself then him. I wanted to hear the words so I could understand them, believe them. He shakes his head slowly. "I was dead, but not anymore." Out of everything that has happened today-with my boyfriend trying to kill me and my father disappearing-this just passes through me with ease. Perhaps I am just numb to everything right now with all the stress...

"Danica, you're a terrible liar. Do you think I will believe you if you imitate what happened to Nat? Get over here and finalize our divorce in three days. Stop coming up with bad excuses like this." When I saw that he heartlessly hung up the phone, I completely gave up on the idea of seeking his help. The drug dealers brutally stabbed me dozens of times as they gritted their teeth in anger and roared, "Pay for what your father did!" Moments before dying, I seemed to have seen my father. "Dani, don't cry. Come. Follow me home," he said with a smile. Although I desperately wished his words were true, I knew very well it was just my hallucination, for my father had been dead for more than ten