Haunting The Husband Who Ignored My Pleas

Michelle POV

Pain is an anchor to the living, and I had been cut loose.

I didn't feel pain anymore. I felt weightless.

I was floating. The ceiling of the warehouse had vanished, blown open to the indifferent night sky. Thick, gray columns of smoke billowed upward, carrying the acrid stench of sulfur and burnt meat.

I looked down.

The chair was a mangle of twisted metal. The concrete was scorched black. And in the center of the blast radius, there was... something. It didn't look like a person. It looked like ruin.

*That's me,* I thought. The realization was stark, unclouded by panic.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Blue and red lights cut through the smoke, painting the debris in a strobing kaleidoscope of disaster. Firefighters rushed in, hoses blasting water onto the smoldering wreckage.

Then, a black van pulled up. The words *County Medical Examiner* were stenciled on the side.

If I still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat.

Kevin stepped out.

He looked irritated. He was wearing his blue scrubs, a windbreaker thrown hastily over them. He ran a hand through his hair, checking his watch. He probably wanted to get back to Violet. Back to her cat.

"What have we got?" he asked a police officer, snapping on a pair of latex gloves.

"Explosion. One victim. Female, judging by the size, but it's hard to tell," the cop said, grimacing. "Call it so we can clear the scene."

Kevin walked into the ruins. He stepped over the rubble with practiced ease. He walked straight through me.

I felt a shiver, a phantom draft slicing through my consciousness. I turned and followed him. I wanted to scream. *It's me! Look at me!*

He crouched beside my body. He didn't flinch. He was a professional, cold and detached. He shined a flashlight on the charred remains of my arm.

"Severe fourth-degree burns," he muttered to his assistant, William, who was taking notes. "Tissue carbonization. Instant death, likely."

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out with a gloved hand, careful not to contaminate the scene.

He looked at the screen. It was my text.

*I regret every second I wasted loving you. I hope you're happy with her. Goodbye, Kevin.*

He scoffed. A short, sharp sound of disbelief.

"Unbelievable," he muttered.

"What is it, boss?" William asked, looking up from his clipboard.

"Michelle," Kevin said, shaking his head. He shoved the phone back into his pocket. "She's playing the victim card again. Sent me a dramatic goodbye text. She probably checked into a hotel, turned off her phone, and sent this to scare me."

"Are you sure?" William looked at the body, then back at Kevin. "Maybe you should call her parents?"

"And give her the satisfaction?" Kevin stood up, looming over my corpse. "No. She wants attention. I'm not giving it to her. She'll come crawling back tomorrow when her credit card gets declined."

I drifted right in front of his face. I screamed until my non-existent throat burned.

*I am right here! Look down! That's my hand you just touched! That's the heart you broke!*

But he just looked through me, his eyes scanning the warehouse perimeter.

"Bag her," Kevin ordered, gesturing to my body. "Let's get this back to the morgue. I promised Violet I'd bring her coffee."

"Boss, this is a Jane Doe," William said softly. "We should treat her with respect."

"It's a body, William. It's biological waste. Let's go."

They zipped the black bag over my face. The darkness didn't bother me. What bothered me was the man walking away, whistling a low tune, completely unaware that he was walking away from the only person who had ever truly loved him.

I tried to stay. I wanted to stay in the warehouse, to wait for the sun.

But as the ambulance started to move, I felt a sharp tug behind my navel. A hook. A spectral chain.

I was pulled forward, dragged through the air.

I couldn't leave him. Even in death, I was chained to Kevin Reed.