
Goodbye, The Most Painful Love
Goodbye, The Most Painful Love Chapter 1
As I was being brutally murdered and dismembered, my wife was in bed with her ex-boyfriend, lost in passion.
When she hung up on my desperate call for help, she said, "Get lost! You disgust me, you filthy man! Even if you die, I won't spare you a glance!"
Ten days later, she performed an autopsy on a male corpse curled up in a suitcase.
The killer had tortured and dismembered the victim with extreme cruelty, clearly seeking revenge.
She didn't realize that this mutilated body was her despised, "filthy" husband.
After killing me, the murderer stuffed me into a suitcase and threw it into the river.
Ten days later, the suitcase floated downstream, got caught on a large bridge pier, and washed up on the riverbank.
Police tape cordoned off the entire area.
My soul, separated from my body, floated in the air, watching a mud-covered 24-inch suitcase standing alone.
The corpse inside emitted a foul odor.
So this is how disgusting I've become after death.
Among the police officers, my wife Chloe Jones arrived with her toolkit. She got out of the forensic van, made her way through the crowd, and ducked under the police tape.
She was the youngest and most promising medical examiner in the city, having helped solve several major cases.
The initial assessment given by the medical examiner often influences the investigation's direction.
That's why she always arrived first.
As she put on her gloves, she asked, "Has anyone else touched the suitcase?"
A gust of wind carried the distinct smell of the corpse, causing several officers to gag involuntarily, unable to look at my body.
Receiving a negative response, Chloe bent down and waved her hand, scattering the flies covering my body.
My corpse was wearing a worn-out blue jacket.
Her hand paused, and she frowned.
My soul felt anxious.
Did she recognize me?
That jacket was a birthday gift she had bought for me last year.
Unfortunately, she merely furrowed her brow, opened my clothes, and pressed her hand against my abdomen.
"The intestines are filled with putrefaction gases," she said.
Based on the degree of decomposition, she roughly estimated the time of death.
"Death occurred approximately 5-10 days ago."
Soon, my torso was lifted onto a stretcher, placed in a black body bag, and sent back to the police station.
At that moment, her phone buzzed.
Seeing the message notification, she smiled slightly and immediately opened it.
"Chloe, come back soon, I miss you!"
She replied with a voice message, "Okay, wait for me."
Her voice was uncharacteristically gentle.
She never used voice messages to reply to mine.
She would only coldly type a single "Mm."
My heart ached with bitterness.
Chloe, during the days and nights I was gone, were you always intimately entangled with him?
Just as she returned to the police station, Officer James patted her shoulder.
"Chloe, don't work overtime tonight. Leave on time and go home to spend time with Hans Lane. Couples shouldn't let grudges linger overnight..."
At the mention of my name, Chloe's face twisted with disgust.
"Captain James, don't mention him. It's over between us. I've already sent him the divorce papers."
James sighed, "Ah, you're good in every way except for being too stubborn! Couldn't you talk things out with Hans instead of rushing to divorce? Is it because of Gene Lewis..."
Chloe frowned and quickly interrupted, "This has nothing to do with Gene. Hans doesn't deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as him. This time Hans went too far. I gave him chances, but he... What he did is something no woman could tolerate."
Captain James insisted, "I don't think Hans is that kind of person. Could there be some misunderstanding?"
At that moment, an officer brought in a package.
It was a box with the sender's and recipient's names handwritten on it.
The sender's name was mine.
Chloe looked disgusted and was about to throw the box away, but Captain James had already opened it. A smell of blood wafted out, and when he saw what was inside, Captain James was startled.
The box contained a bloody finger and a photograph.
Chloe picked up the finger with an evidence bag.
"The finger is fake, and the blood is red paint," she said.
The photograph was taken with a film camera.
It showed what appeared to be a dark room covered in glowing lights.
It looked like...
"A starry sky?" Captain James examined the photo. "What does this mean?"
Chloe scoffed, "Playing these tricks again. Who knows what's going on in his head? It's nauseating!"
Captain James looked puzzled, "But what does this bloody finger represent? Could Hans be in trouble?"
"What trouble could he be in? He's just trying to get my attention, begging me not to divorce him, pleading for me to stay with him!"
"He knows Gene once said he wanted to see an underwater starry sky. By sending me this, he's deliberately threatening me, saying he'll harm Gene!"
"That filthy man with his vicious thoughts, I feel sick just looking at it!"
"The more attention we give him, the worse he gets! I'd rather go autopsy the corpse and bring justice to the deceased sooner."
My soul floated in the air, my heart feeling empty and desolate.
So... she thinks I'm filthy, and looking at me makes her sick.
Yes, I feel dirty too...
But what made me become so dirty...
In her heart, who is clean?
Her ex-boyfriend?
Perhaps fearing that I might harm her ex-boyfriend, Chloe threw the photo and the bloody finger into the trash.
Then she took out her phone, intending to send me a message, only to realize she had long since blocked me.
So she unblocked my number and called a few times, but there was no answer.
Her fingers quickly typed out a string of words.
"Hans, if you dare harm Gene, I'll make you pay dearly!"
"Stop playing these games. You're so filthy that I feel sick just seeing you! Even if you die, I won't spare you a glance!"
"Sign the divorce papers quickly. If I have any connection with you, he'll get jealous!"
Hearing her words, my heart ached.
Just a few months ago, Chloe and I were deeply in love, but now she speaks to me with such cruelty, showing no mercy at all...
Even if I'm dirty, it's not my fault...
I'm already dead...
The dismembered body in the suitcase is me...