The Day I Died, He Married Her

Chapter 7

My spirit drifted in the air as the Grim Reapers glared at me, their expressions stern.

"Do you really have no desire to live at all?"

I nodded.

When I was young, my parents were deeply in love, our family was happy, and everyone adored me. Back then, I had my doting parents, my beloved Ethan Winters, and a life others envied.

Then, Ethan abandoned me.

Later, a fire took my parents.

Now, the man I loved most has married someone else.

Alone, with nothing left to tie me to this world, I should have left long ago.

The dark-robed Reaper sighed. "What a waste. You were destined for a great love—how could fate be so cruel? Could the Book of Destiny be wrong?"

The white-robed Reaper huffed. "She wants to die. Why stop her?" Then he added, "Your time isn't up. The underworld won't take you. From now on, you'll be a wandering spirit. Are you willing?"

I thought for a moment and nodded. "I am."

Being a wandering spirit wasn't so bad.

I could drift wherever I pleased, free to roam.

I became a wandering spirit, drifting through the courtyard, idly swinging my legs from the locust tree.

My phone rang again.

It was Ethan Winters calling.

But sorry, Ethan.

Rachel can't answer your calls anymore.

I'm a ghost now.

When we were kids, I once asked you—if I died, would I become a star?

Back then, you looked at me with such seriousness and said, "When people die, it's like a flame going out. There's nothing left."

You were wrong.

I died, and I still became a wandering spirit.

The phone kept ringing, piercing the silent night, grating on my ghostly ears.

Suddenly, I remembered how I used to play pranks on Ethan when we were little.

I wondered if he'd cry if he saw my ghostly face in his dreams.

I left the old house and drifted to Ethan's home.

Tonight was supposed to be his wedding night—it should've been filled with joy.

But his new home was eerily quiet.

Ethan stood by the living room window, cigarette butts scattered at his feet.

Smoke curled around him, blurring his sharp, cold features.

I floated right in front of him, stretching my mouth wide and pulling my eyes open, trying my best to scare him.

"Boo! Bet you're terrified!"

Ethan had a secret—one only I knew.

He feared nothing in this world… except ghosts.

When we were kids, I used that secret to threaten him—no getting close to other girls.

Ethan seemed to sense something. He lifted his gaze, glancing in my direction.

The night wind rushed through the open window, tousling the strands of hair on his forehead.

His eyes were like still water—deep with sorrow, yet eerily calm.

I made another silly face at him, trying to scare him like I used to.

But he couldn't see me. He thought it was just the wind and lowered his head again, redialing my number.

I sighed. Boring.

Fine. I'd wait until he fell asleep, then haunt his dreams.

Ethan kept calling, over and over, never tiring of it.

Finally, he crushed his cigarette in frustration, grabbed his coat, and turned to leave.

Lily Evans stepped out of the bedroom in her nightgown. "Ethan, where are you going?"

He paused. "To see a friend."

"A friend?" Lily frowned. "Rachel Summers?"

Ethan didn't answer. His lips pressed into a thin line as he strode forward, expression cold.

"You promised you wouldn't bother her again," Lily whispered, her eyes red, face pale.

Silence. He kept walking.

"Ethan, don't go!" Lily clutched her stomach, her face suddenly drained of color. "I—I'm in pain. The baby—"

Ethan's expression darkened. He hesitated—just for two seconds—then turned back.

He chose Lily.

Just like he did all those years ago.