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My Funeral, Her Wedding Novel Cover

My Funeral, Her Wedding

When Emma's first love, Liam, returns, she immediately demands a divorce from her husband, completely oblivious to his terminal illness. Coldly insisting he sign the papers even from his deathbed, she gets her wish. But her path to a new marriage takes a tragic turn. On the very day Emma prepares to wed Liam, her former husband's funeral takes place. Dressed in her bridal gown, she is left weeping at his tombstone, struck by a devastating realization and a desperate wish for a second chance.
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Chapter 3

“This is all crystal clear to you. Everything is James’s fault.”

“The truth about what happened back then is actually—”

I interrupted Lily, keeping my gaze calm as I looked at Sophia.

“You’re right. It’s all my fault. So let’s not waste time entangling ourselves any further. Come on, let’s get the divorce over with.”

“James!” Lily called after me, as if she wanted to say something more.

I shook my head at her.

There was no need to explain. Sophia had never loved me.

When Sophia and I stepped out of the City Hall, Ethan cheerfully rushed over to her.

“Sophia, you’re finally divorced! Now we can finally be together.”

To my surprise, Sophia didn’t respond. She stood frozen, staring at the divorce certificate in her hand.

Could she be regretting it?

The thought barely crossed my mind before I shook my head.

Impossible.

Getting divorced from me had always been her wish.

Lily spoke up. “Sophia, if you regret this, there’s still time to change your mind.”

Ethan glared at Lily with obvious irritation. “Why would Sophia regret it? She doesn’t love James. Only by marrying me will she find happiness.”

Lily scoffed. “And how exactly do you plan to make her happy? With your current lack of any accomplishments?”

Ethan’s confidence faltered as he glanced nervously at Sophia, fumbling for a defense.

“Happiness isn’t just about material things. I can give Sophia spiritual fulfillment.”

“All you have left is that mouth of yours,” Lily retorted disdainfully.

I knew Lily was trying to persuade Sophia to reconsider. But after years of pouring my heart out for Sophia, tending to her every need and still failing to warm her icy heart, how could a few words from Lily make a difference?

Besides, Sophia and I were already divorced. I had no desire to drag this out any longer.

“Lily, let’s go,” I said.

Lily hesitated for a moment, then sighed and turned to Sophia.

“Sophia, think carefully about what I said. Don’t wait until it’s too late to realize what you’ve lost.”

Sophia replied with indifference, “There’s nothing to think about. I won’t regret it.”

Her final words were directed at me, “Because I never loved you.”

A sharp pain pierced my chest.

Sophia didn’t look at me again. She got into Ethan’s car and together, they drove away.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I clutched my mouth, coughing violently. Warm liquid seeped through my fingers and caught my eye.

It was bright red.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Lily kneeling on the ground, crying uncontrollably.

I wanted to comfort her. But when I moved, I realized my body felt weightless. The hand I tried to place on her shoulder passed right through her.

I froze, glancing around, until my gaze landed on the hospital bed.

On it lay my lifeless body.

I had died.

In this ethereal, soul-like state, I silently stayed by Lily’s side.

I watched her arrange my affairs—preparing my body, notifying my family and friends and holding vigil for me. She handled everything, step by step, with care, but the toll on her was obvious.

Within a few short days, she had visibly thinned.

Three days before my funeral, Lily sat before my urn, murmuring softly, “James, I don’t know if I should tell Sophia. Can you give me a sign?”

Of course, I couldn’t give her an answer. But deep down, I wished she wouldn’t tell Sophia.

I feared that if Sophia learned of my death, she might clap her hands in celebration.

As long as I didn’t witness it, I could still lie to myself, pretending otherwise.

Just then, a ringtone broke the silence.

I glanced at Lily’s phone.

It was a call from Sophia.

Lily didn’t take her eyes off my urn. Without looking at the screen, she reached out, picked up the phone and answered the call.

“Lily, the wedding between Ethan and me is in three days. I’ll send you the location later—don’t forget to come.”

For a moment, I felt suffocated. I hadn’t realized the dead could still feel.

Lily’s face went pale. “Why did you choose that day?”

Sophia’s voice carried a hint of confusion. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem at all. I’ll be there,” Lily replied.

After hanging up, she turned to my urn and whispered, “Did you hear that? She scheduled her wedding with Ethan for that day.”

“But that’s the day of your funeral!”

Yes, it was. That was the day of my funeral.

But Sophia and I were divorced. She was free to marry Ethan whenever she wanted. There was nothing I could do to change it.

Three days later, Lily put on a black dress, a matching veil and an expressionless face before leaving the house.

I wanted to stop her, to tell her not to go. But I couldn’t. I could only hover beside her, following as she walked into the wedding venue.

The moment Lily stepped inside, dressed as she was, the guests’ faces turned to shock.

Sophia, radiant in her white wedding gown, came forward to greet her. Her expression darkened.

“Lily, what are you wearing? This joke is a bit much, don’t you think?”

“I’m not joking,” Lily said coolly. “After attending your wedding, I have to head to James’s funeral. There’s no time to change.”

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