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A Fine Line Between Life and Death Novel Cover

A Fine Line Between Life and Death

Desperate for survival while being hunted by a killer, a woman makes a final call to her boyfriend, only for him to dismiss her as a prankster. While he celebrates a childhood friend's birthday, she meets a brutal end. The tragedy comes full circle when he, working as a restorative embalmer, is tasked with repairing a mangled corpse. His world shatters as he meticulously reconstructs the skull, only to realize the victim is the woman he abandoned in her final moments.
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Chapter 2

Gavin brought Chloe back to the home that used to belong to the two of us. The moment she stepped inside, she noticed the traces of my absence.

Chloe asked, her voice cautious, "Gavin, is Sandra still mad?"

She could guess why I had left.

"Yeah. She went back to one of her places."

Besides the home Gavin and I shared, I owned several other properties. Whenever we argued, I would choose one at random and stay there.

Chloe bit her lip, looking guilty. "This is all my fault," she murmured. "I was too selfish… That night, I was really vulnerable. I just needed you so much…"

"I understand why Sandra is upset," she added softly. "I just hope you two won't keep fighting because of me."

Gavin chuckled indulgently. "This isn't your fault. Sandra is just being unreasonable. Don't worry. This time, unless she apologizes to you, I won't forgive her."

Chloe pressed her lips together to suppress a smile, then sniffled as if she were holding back tears. "It's my fault… I'll go make you something to eat."

She hurried to the kitchen while Gavin sank onto the couch, staring blankly ahead. After a long silence, he muttered under his breath, "Sandra, enough is enough."

I hovered in the air. My chest tightened with pain. Even now, he still thought I was just being difficult.

It was our seventh anniversary a week ago. To mark the occasion, I prepared two surprises for Gavin—my ultrasound and our marriage paperwork.

After seven years together, it was time for us to get married. But instead of a candlelit dinner and a romantic evening, all I got was a silent treatment.

As we sat at the dinner table that night, Chloe's call came in. She sobbed over the phone, "Gavin, my leg is truly useless… I fell again and spilled hot water on my arm. It hurts so much. Gavin, can you please be with me? I feel awful…"

To everyone else, Chloe was always bright and cheerful. But with Gavin, she allowed herself to be weak, to cry.

Hearing her plea, Gavin immediately grabbed his coat. I grabbed his wrist and spoke coldly, "Gavin, are you seriously leaving me for Chloe again?"

He coaxed me gently. "Come on, don't make a fuss. Chloe needs me."

My throat tightened, but I forced back my tears. "What about me? Don't I need you?"

Seven years together, and I had to be the one to bring up marriage—only because I was pregnant. Did I mean so little to him?

I was desperate. "How many times has she pulled this stunt? Can't you see? She's doing this on purpose! My birthday, your birthday, Valentine's Day, our anniversaries—every single time we celebrate something, she suddenly 'hurts her leg' and calls you away. Are you blind? Can't you see what she's doing? Why do you keep letting her humiliate me?"

Gavin stood frozen for a moment. Then, his shock twisted into disgust.

"Sandra, how did your heart become so twisted? Chloe is like a little sister to me. How could you even suspect something like that? And don't forget—her leg is ruined because of you. You owe her."

I broke down. "It wasn't me! It wasn't my fault she's crippled!"

"Enough." He held his forehead, exasperated. "I don't want to hear another word about this." Then, he pushed open the door.

I called after him. My voice shook. "Gavin! If you walk out that door for Chloe again, we're done."

The only answer was the sound of the door slamming shut.

My heart went completely cold. I packed my things and moved into another apartment.

Gavin never acknowledged the breakup, but he never came to take me home, either. Stubborn as we both were, we sank into an unspoken war of silence.

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