Chapter 3

Vivian smiled, and Ethan said softly, "Of course I do. But you have a sore throat today, so we're keeping it bland."

So, he did know how to care for someone with a throat issue.

Then why, when I had severe laryngitis last year, did he order a table full of spicy food and tell me to stop being dramatic and starve if I didn't want to eat?

He wasn't incapable of caring. He just didn't care about me.

"Ethan, you're so sweet. Chloe must be so happy to be married to you." Vivian’s eyes suddenly dimmed. "I missed your wedding because I was sent abroad for therapy. I want to toast to you and Chloe with this water. I hope you two grow old together."

Ha. Happy? The only person who got to experience his kindness was her.

And besides, I was already dead. How could we grow old together?

"Why bring up an outsider during lunch? It ruins my appetite," Ethan said coldly.

Even though I was dead, and even though I had signed those papers, hearing him call me an "outsider" still sent a sharp pang through my chest.

Vivian looked down, acting guilty. "Ethan, if Chloe finds out we had lunch together, she won't be mad, will she?"

"She has no right to be mad. Besides, we’re getting divorced anyway."

Standing beside him, I stared at the disgust in his eyes and let out a mocking laugh.

*Ethan, I'm already dead. You can go straight to the courthouse and file for a death certificate.*

I saw the triumphant smile Vivian couldn't quite hide.

"Really? Then we..."

Suddenly, a waiter walked over. "Excuse me, sir, miss. We have a couple's promotion today. If you take a romantic photo together, you get fifty percent off. Would you like to participate?"

"Yes!" Vivian said.

"No," Ethan said simultaneously.

I didn't understand why he refused. Wasn't he desperate to divorce me so they could be together publicly?

While I was wondering, Vivian leaned in and kissed his cheek.

Ethan froze for a second, then gently pulled her back into her seat. He leaned down and whispered, "Let me handle the situation with Chloe first. I don't want people calling you a home-wrecker who stole someone else's husband."

So that was the difference between love and indifference.

When Vivian suddenly left the country five years ago, Ethan and I got married shortly after.

Everyone in our social circle rumored that I had stolen him. I begged him to clarify things.

But he had only said, *“Why care what they think? We're the ones living our lives.”*

Vivian blushed and smiled. "Okay! Then, Ethan, can we throw a little party tonight? To celebrate you becoming single again?"

Looking at her eager face, Ethan hesitated for a moment before agreeing.

Indeed, I was the only obstacle between them. Even before the divorce was official, they couldn't wait to celebrate.

...

That night.

Ethan held Vivian’s hand as they walked into the Hilton. They looked exactly like a deeply in-love couple.

I didn't want to watch them be intimate.

But every time I tried to step away, the invisible force would yank me back, forcing me to stand right next to him.

Ethan pushed open the VIP lounge door.

Suddenly, party poppers went off, showering them in confetti and rose petals.

Look at that. We didn't even have this at our wedding.

Looking at the beautiful couple standing together, it felt as if I were the villain who had wrongfully kept them apart for five years.