Chapter 1

Once upon a time, I was a doormat. Not only did I spend all my money on my girlfriend, but I also followed her around like a puppy, catering to her every whim. I even washed her underwear. Yet, my girlfriend treated me with contempt, using my money to support her first love. The two of them spent their days together, rarely coming home.

Then, I died of cancer.

My girlfriend and her first love held their wedding. I watched as the roses I had carefully tended withered away, and I saw her life gradually deteriorate into something worse than a pig or dog's. Yet, I felt nothing.

She regretted it eventually, praying to every god and buddha, desperately begging for my return.

I died from a terminal illness. Before I went to the hospice, Mia was still arguing with me, all because I didn't want her to have dinner with her first love, Jason, that day.

She accused me of being jealous, saying that over the years, it was Jason who had helped her in her career, while I had been useless.

Jason was her first love and now her boss.

I had intended to tell her about my illness that day and ask her to accompany me to the hospice, but at that moment, my heart turned cold.

I shut the door tightly and refused to let her leave. She scratched my arms until they bled.

"Lucas Wilson, what right do you have to compare yourself to him? You're not even worth his little toe. If I could be with him, I would have been long ago. How could it ever be your turn?"

With my last hope shattered, I finally let her go.

I packed a simple bag alone, took my cat Jerry, and went to a mountain resort hospice.

After just two months, my body couldn't hold on any longer. During that month, she hadn't called me once or sent a single message.

After I died, perhaps due to some lingering attachment, my soul refused to leave and floated back to Mia's side.

I saw Mia contacting Jason more frequently after I left.

I saw her dolling herself up like a young girl before each date.

I saw her celebrating Jason's birthday, even making a handmade music box, not caring that she cut her hands in the process.

I saw her rushing out to meet Jason at his beck and call, rain or shine, never refusing.

I saw her occasionally stumble upon my things at home, pausing for a moment, then checking her phone for missed calls or unread messages. When there were none, she would say,

"This time you're really being stubborn, not contacting me for over a month. You're so paranoid. Let's see how long you can hold out this time."

In our five-year marriage, I could never measure up to Jason's place in her heart.

Perhaps from the very beginning, I meant nothing to her. My relentless pursuit before marriage and attentive care after marriage only made her think that maybe I wasn't so bad at a marriageable age.

It turns out that after all these years, I still couldn't warm even half of her heart.

Just when I thought Mia had forgotten about me and would naturally end up with Jason, he asked about the necklace he had given her during their naive first love. She couldn't find it at home and suddenly remembered me, frantically calling my number,

"Where's my necklace? Did you pick it up and put it somewhere again?"

"I told you not to touch my things, don't touch my things. Always pretending to be sick and weak, who are you trying to impress?"