Revived From the Dead

I'm five months pregnant. One day, I leave the house to do some grocery shopping.

As I wait at a red light, I see a woman kiss my husband. I follow them in shock, snapping to my senses when I hear the screeching of a car's brakes.

I get into an accident and end up comatose, losing my child in the process.

Not only does my husband not care for me, but he even has his lover move in with him proudly.

The moment I wake up, they panic.

The sound of intense panting and an amorous air surrounded me. A soft moan marked the end of that gratifying session between the pair.

From the corner of my eye, I could secretly see the pair intertwined in bed. Agony and weariness crept all over me.

Yet, there was nothing I could do.

The woman on the bed put on a cardigan, then scooted over to my side.

As her sharp nails rubbed against my neck, she asked, "Why are you still keeping her alive? You're not still in love with her, are you?"

My husband, Peter Crawford, crawled out of bed and then smoked a cigarette nonchalantly.

He snapped out of his daze only when his phone rang. After taking a quick glance, he answered his phone attentively, "Mrs. Gibson, is everything okay?"

When the woman heard how Peter addressed his caller, she got back to the side of the bed and blew air at him, titillating him till his breaths began to get a little heavy.

From the other end of the call, my mother asked in a concerned voice, "Are you alright, Peter?"

As he tried to restrain his emotions, Peter answered, "I'm just a little tired after wiping Riley down."

Mom replied in a regretful and worried voice, "Do take care of yourself too. Sorry for troubling you with Riley."

When I heard those words, it filled my heart with sorrow and made tears well up involuntarily.

Peter let out a few coughs and responded, "It's no trouble at all, Mrs. Gibson."

Mom exhaled, then said, "I transferred some money to you again. Just hire a caregiver if you can't handle taking care of her on your own. We will come and visit Riley the day after tomorrow."

Alarmed, Peter flung his cigarette away. "Sure. Don't worry, Mrs. Gibson. I'm here to care for Riley."

After Peter had gotten off the phone with my mother, the woman pressed against him. In a honeyed voice, she asked, "Is something the matter?"

Peter tilted his chin in my direction.

"Help me with looking after her these two days. My in-laws are coming the day after tomorrow, so make sure they don't notice anything amiss."

The woman pouted and grumbled, "You love her that much, don't you?"

Peter tugged at the necklace around the woman's neck helplessly. "This luxury item of yours was bought with my in-laws' money."

The woman beamed in an instant while she leaned against Peter.

"I knew it. You do love me. Do you think that I'm spending a dead person's money, in a way?"

Peter grabbed her by her chin and narrowed his eyes. He remarked, "You have quite a sharp tongue."

Upon realizing that she had almost revealed her true colors, the woman put on a docile act as quickly as she could. "I was just afraid of losing you," she defended.

As Peter put his clothes back on, he said to the woman, "Selena, don't overthink things all the time."

Selena Tanner watched as Peter turned around and entered the toilet.

The gentle smile on her face disappeared slowly. By the time she turned her head to look at me, all she had was a sinister look on her face.

Like a ghoul, she glided to my side. As much as I screamed in my mind with whatever was left of my consciousness, I couldn't move myself physically at all.

She bent forward slowly, speaking to me viciously.

"I can't believe I didn't manage to take you down with one hit. You are a really lucky one!"

The tears in my eyes finally overflowed from the corner of my eyes.

For the first time, a clear realization formed in this muddled head of mine—she was the one who caused my traffic accident.