After I was Killed, My Husband Restored the Truth Himself

David hesitated. Seeing that William wasn’t listening, he focused on the investigation.

William figured that the murder was an act of revenge. He put on gloves and examined the mangled remains in the meat grinder.

He quickly determined that the victim was a woman, around 5.25 feet tall, and between 28 and 30 years old. But when he picked up the body parts, he realized the head was missing.

William frowned and asked, “Where’s the head?”

David replied, “There’s probably a second crime scene. The killer likely took the head somewhere else to dispose of it.”

Looking at the body parts laid out, David suddenly had a troubling thought. “This body looks a lot like Emily. Could something have happened to her? You never pay much attention to her. Don’t wait until it’s too late and then regret it.”

William scoffed, “Emily’s a coward who runs away when trouble starts. How could she have an accident? If it weren’t for her cowardice and fear, Serena’s parents wouldn’t have died. The one I should be concerned about is Serena, who lost her parents. Emily doesn’t deserve my concern!”

William’s hatred toward me started with that car accident.

A year ago, William was driving Serena’s parents to the airport while I followed quietly in my car. William was so excited to see Serena that he kept speeding.

On a rainy day, the slippery road caused us to rear-end a large truck, and the impact sparked a fire. Without thinking, I parked on the emergency lane and ran toward them.

William, in the driver’s seat, was unconscious but less injured. The airbag had protected him.

Serena’s parents were trapped in the wrecked car. I tried everything to get them out—opening the car door, smashing the windows—but despite my hands being cut by broken glass and bleeding, nothing worked.

Eventually, I decided to get William out first. I used a piece of broken glass to cut his seatbelt and dragged him from the car with all my strength. When I finally got him to safety, he woke up.

Seeing Serena’s parents still trapped and unresponsive, William went wild, trying to get back to them. But the fire had already engulfed the car, and it was about to explode.

I clung to William’s waist, refusing to let him go no matter how much he struggled. “Don’t go! It’s too dangerous! Please.”

Just then, the car exploded, and all my efforts and feelings for William went up in smoke.

Since that day, everything had changed. William hated me, resented me, and tried to humiliate me in every way. But I still held onto hope that one day he’d understand, love me again, and let go of his hatred.

I never expected his hatred to run so deep. Can eight years of love really disappear in an instant?