I am Dead, But My Love for You Remains

Oh, that’s a photo of John and me.

'John, if you realize it’s me lying here, what will you do?'

'Will you be angry, happy or excited?'

'That difficult fiancée who always troubled you is gone now.'

"The face in the photo is blurry, but the clothes look like ours," someone remarked.

"The tech team is working to enhance the image as fast as possible. Meanwhile, we’ll wait for family members to come forward," another added.

I sighed—it was so close.

Just then, Natalie walked in.

She wore something stylish and chic, a stark contrast to my usual sporty attire.

She handed John a lunch box with a smile.

John took it.

"Things have been a bit rough lately. Stay safe and avoid going out too much," John cautioned.

"Sure. By the way, here’s the ring you asked for. Do you still want it?"

Natalie asked, holding a familiar ring box. I remember that style.

John showed it to me once, excitedly asking which one I liked.

I chose that one.

How ironic! It was our wedding ring, and his mistress was holding it now.

"No need," John replied. "You can keep it."

Natalie lung to John’s arm, pouting playfully.

"Put it on for me."

She extended her finger, and John slipped the ring on, granting her request.

John, what did our eight years together mean to you?

That was supposed to be our wedding ring.

"Is Yara here?" came a voice.

It was John’s good friend, Michael.

He peered outside, trying to spot me.

"Is Yara still not here?" he asked.

John frowned. "Yara, I consider you a brother, so stop bringing up Yara."

"But you two have been together for eight years," Michael protested.

"I'm tired of it," John replied.

After sending Natalie away, John turned to leave, but Michael grabbed him by the collar.

"John, Yara has done so much for you! Remember, her father died saving you from a bullet!"

Yes, my father was also a forensic doctor.

During a mission, he took a bullet meant for John.

My father's dying wish was for John to take good care of me.

John had cried bitterly and promised my father he would always cherish me.

But now, here I was, unrecognizable and stripped of everything, even our children.

"Michael, weren't you the one who disliked Yara the most? I broke up with her; you should be happy," John retorted.

"But you were together for eight years!" Michael exclaimed.

"So what?"

John snapped, pushing Zheng Nan aside and heading back inside. "I need to conduct a second autopsy to check for more clues."

"Did you know Yara is pregnant?" Michael asked.

John suddenly stopped, and John's tired eyes sharpened, fixing on Michael like a hawk.

"What did you just say?"

"You didn’t know? She didn’t want to stress you out and planned to tell you after the engagement. But it looks like you didn't deserve that."

Michael pushed past John and walked straight in.

John stayed outside, lighting a cigarette.

He took out his phone, unsure whether to call or not. Eventually, he went back in.

He approached my body, setting down his scalpel and just stared.

There were no new clues to find.

Michael came in with some documents. "Any new leads?" he asked.

John shook his head.

Michael glanced at the baby next to me. "He would be the same age as your child."

After saying that, Michael went out.

John’s knife remained poised in mid-air.

He was right.

This child would have been the same age as ours.

Because, he was our child.

Finally, John spoke, and his eyes filled with unexpected tears.