His First Love Trapped Me

Wilson, a detective for years, was more observant and diligent than most.

"John, I checked. Sandra was wearing a dress that day. She wouldn't have had the pockets to be carrying cash. Besides, there's been no activity on her accounts these past few days, and she doesn't have many friends. Aren't you even a little worried?"

John casually fed Tammy the orange, then finally turned to look at him. Wilson, usually calm and collected, was on the verge of tears, grabbing John's arm and pleading softly, "John, listen to me. If something happens to Sandra, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Seeing Wilson's anxiety, John hesitated and rose from his seat. However, Tammy tugged at his sleeve before he could take a step. She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, her expression fragile and pitiable.

"John, you know this whole thing has been so traumatizing for me. Can't you let them handle it? I'm terrified of being alone."

Before John could respond, Wilson pulled on his arm, trying to drag him toward the door while still talking.

"Miss Tammy, your injury is more or less healed. Don't keep clinging to John. He's got a wife to find. Even if you're in a hurry to take her place, another day or two won't make a difference, right? Honestly, you're just being melodramatic."

"Shut up!" John roared, shaking off Wilson's hand and shoving him aside. His entire body trembled with fury, seeing his beloved woman insulted.

"You seem more anxious than I am. What? Do you have something going on with Sandra, too?

"And let me warn you—watch how you speak to Tammy from now on. If you dare insult her again, don't blame me for ending our friendship."

My heart twisted in agony. So, that was how worthless I was to him.

He had forgotten that the only reason Wilson was so concerned about me was that a few years ago, when his mother was gravely ill and desperately needed money for treatment, I had stepped in to help and save her life. John knew that but still spat out such hurtful words without a second thought.

Wilson was frustrated, but John shoved him out the door before he could explain.

"Get out! Don't show your face here unless you find Sandra's body! Stop spewing nonsense in front of me!"

I watched his face, twisted with anger and felt a surge of bitterness. The husband I devoted everything to for the past ten years had no compassion for me.

After Wilson left, Tammy wrapped her arms around John's neck and spoke softly, sounding aggrieved.

"John, I'm terrified. I didn't mean to stop you from looking for Sandra."

John stroked her hair, his expression full of tenderness.

"I know you're not that kind of person. Don't worry. Sandra is well-liked; plenty of people will look for her. Right now, I want to focus on being with you. Once you're better, I'll go check on her."

A bitter smile crept onto my face as I watched them embrace lovingly. So, he did know how to love someone. He just never loved me.

Two days later, a group of hikers found my body. I had died a horrible death, covered in countless wounds from brutal beatings. Even the hardened detectives, used to seeing such sights, couldn't hold back their tears.

They covered me with a white sheet and brought me to the hospital. At the time, John was accompanying Tammy to get her wound dressed in one of the exam rooms.

As my body was carried past him, he was smiling down at Tammy, his gaze never leaving her face. His deep affection made my death seem even more meaningless.

The hospital staff did not notice as the stretcher carrying my body bumped into Tammy. She yelped in pain and collapsed into John's arms. John's face twisted with anger, ready to yell at the staff for their carelessness.

Then, his eyes fell on my limp arm, hanging out from under the sheet. He froze on the spot. There was a scar on my wrist, one he was all too familiar with.

That scar came from the time a criminal's relative tried to attack him in revenge. I had thrown myself in front of him, shielding him from a knife that should've landed on his head. Instead, it slashed across my arm.

"Wait!" he shouted instinctively. His voice trembled, and he looked momentarily panicked.