The Ghost of the Wife He Buried

4: 4

Early the next morning, Jason came for the bride with his groomsmen and drove to the Simmons house.

It was her brother who gave her away.

His eyes were faintly red, and reluctance was written all over his face as he placed Zoe's hand in Jason's.

"Jason, she's the only sister I have. If you ever dare hurt her, I will never forgive you."

Jason swore in a low voice:

"Don't worry. As long as I'm here, I will never let Zoe be hurt."

With that, he drew the jade bracelet from inside his coat and slid it gently onto Zoe's wrist.

When her brother saw the bracelet, he froze.

He glanced at Zoe, who was still saying goodbye to their father, then pulled Jason aside and lowered his voice.

"Did you find Lucia? She called me yesterday saying she was in some cold storage, and she even made up a story about a killer chasing her."

Disgust filled his face.

"A woman that vicious, even if she got killed, the murderer would only be doing the world a favor."

I stayed silent.

I had heard that kind of contempt countless times.

But this time was different.

The Jason who once would never let anyone say a single bad word about me said nothing.

Zoe came over, holding up the hem of her gown.

When her brother saw her, he swallowed his anger and smiled, adjusting the veil that had gone slightly crooked.

Looking at the exquisite, lavish gown on Zoe's body, I went still.

The memories came rushing back like a tide.

The night before my own wedding, the gown my mother had designed for me suddenly vanished.

I was so frantic I cried.

My brother leaned against the doorway and tossed me an old, yellowed gown, saying carelessly:

"Zoe liked that dress, so I gave it to her."

"You're the older sister. Don't be so petty about every little thing."

I clutched that shabby gown and said stubbornly:

"My mother made that for me. Zoe's an illegitimate daughter. She doesn't deserve it."

My defiance enraged my brother, and he locked me inside the room.

It wasn't until the next day that Jason kicked the door open and pulled me out.

And so I walked through my wedding in a gown that didn't fit.

And my brother never showed his face, from beginning to end.

Outside, the officiant began urging them along.

Jason helped Zoe into the car with the utmost care.

I drifted behind him, following the car to the wedding venue.

The car stopped.

Jason led her carefully to the center of the ceremony platform.

The screen behind them began to play their photos.

The pictures flashed by one after another.

The first year after my death, Jason buried himself in work to hold down the grief, waking at midnight to sob over my photo.

The second year, Zoe appeared at his side more and more.

The third year, Jason packed all my things away and proposed to Zoe.

The way he looked at Zoe grew brighter and brighter.

No one cared where I had gone.

My lover and my family had long since forgotten I ever existed.

The photos kept playing.

Jason turned his head toward Zoe beside him, his tone apologetic:

"I'm sorry, Zoe. I believed Lucia's words too much back then, so I was prejudiced against you."

"But thank God, after everything, you're still here beside me."

Zoe paused, then smiled at Jason.

Just as she was about to speak, a wave of startled cries broke out among the guests.

On instinct, Zoe followed everyone's gaze to the screen.

On the screen was the evidence of her mother driving the first wife to her death, along with the evidence of how Zoe had mistreated me at every turn.

One glance, and her face went white, her eyes reddening at once.

She clutched her chest and collapsed into Jason's arms.

"Jace, I know my sister didn't want me to marry you. But she was the one who abandoned you first…"

Her brother rushed onto the platform and yanked the screen's cord loose.

Jason held Zoe, his face dark.

"Lucia." He ground out my name through his teeth. "You'd better hope I don't catch you, or I swear I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life."

I watched him rage.

And suddenly it struck me as funny.

The Jason who always insisted on evidence had just convicted me on a single sentence from Zoe.

A pity. He couldn't catch me now.

Lucia had died three years ago.

The wedding venue was ringed layer by layer with her brother's men and Jason's.

Every inch of the platform was searched carefully, and not a trace of me was found.

When his assistant came to report, Jason tugged impatiently at his tie.

"She hates Zoe that much. She's the only one who'd do this to ruin her."

"Since she won't come out and apologize, then we force her to show herself."

"Put out the word that Lucia's mother was the mistress in that marriage, and drag Mrs. Simmons's grave out of the cemetery."

No.

My mother was dead. I couldn't let her be denied rest even in death.

I threw myself at Jason like a madwoman, begging.

"Jason, I didn't do this. I'm dead, I'm really dead. Please, don't do this."

But he couldn't hear me.

I hovered in midair, staring blankly at the video his assistant had sent.

My mother's urn had been tossed carelessly to one side, filth smeared all over it.

People stood around pointing, and the sound of their spitting curses never stopped.

I covered my ears, not wanting to hear.

But the voices bored straight into my head.

I curled up in a corner, my whole heart aching until it trembled.

A sharp phone ringtone burst out.

Jason answered without even looking.

"Lucia, if you know you were wrong, then hurry up and apologize to Zoe, otherwise—"

Before he could finish, the captain cut him off.

There was a faint, barely perceptible urgency in his voice.

"Jason, it's me."

"The DNA results on that female body came back."

"It's Lucia. Estimated time of death, roughly three years ago…"