After I was Killed, My Husband Restored the Truth Himself

After finishing up the case files, David asked William, patting his growling stomach, “Emily hasn’t been to the office for a few days. She usually brings you those homemade meals. Why hasn’t she shown up?”

William slammed the keyboard and scoffed, “She only knows how to bring those useless meals. Does she think a little bit of food can make me forgive her? It’s pathetic, really.”

I couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt, realizing that my efforts were seen as worthless to him. I thought I’d be more upset, but instead, I felt a strange sense of relief.

David, clearly sympathetic, said with frustration, “You’re being unfair. Emily isn’t like that. She’s a good person, kind and brave.”

“Enough!” William shot back, clearly irritated. “Don’t talk about Emily anymore. It just makes me sick.”

David was taken aback. He clearly didn’t expect William, who was usually so mild-mannered, to react with such anger when my name came up.

Just then, William’s phone rang. The caller ID showed Serena’s name.

He answered the call, and Serena on the other end was throwing a fit, demanding his attention. Without hesitation, William dropped everything and rushed to her side.

Watching him leave so quickly, I felt a wave of relief. I had loved him for so long and put myself at risk to save him during the worst moments. But all he cared about was Serena and her parents.

He had forgotten that I had saved him. Instead of being grateful, he blamed me for everything. Even on the night I was dying, I called him for help, but he coldly told me to stop bothering him and complained that I was interrupting his celebration of Serena’s birthday.

I should have realized long ago that William wasn’t worth my sacrifices.

I followed William to Serena’s house. As soon as the door opened, Serena threw herself into his arms. She was as gentle as a little rabbit, speaking softly, “I dreamed about my mom again. She said it hurts so much. I’m so sad, but there’s nothing I can do.”

She broke down in tears, saying, “It’s all my fault. If you hadn’t picked me up that day, this wouldn’t have happened.”

William kissed her forehead and gently wiped her tears away. “Serena, sweetheart, don’t think like that. It’s not your fault.”

Their tender moment was interrupted by a call from David. Though he kept his tone calm, I could hear a hint of urgency.

“We found a second location where the body was dumped, and we also found the victim’s phone. There’s only one contact in her address book, and it’s you.”

William stood there, stunned and speechless, for what felt like an eternity.