I'm about to give birth to my second child, but my husband wants to care for his true love.

I snap, "Aren't you afraid of me dying in labor and taking the baby with me?"

He says I'm being unreasonable. Then, he leaves without another look back.

Later, the postpartum care center I'm at catches fire. My husband doesn't hear my cries for help. Instead, he carries his true love out of the fire.

He subsequently loses his mind after learning of my death.

The blinding flames in front of my eyes faded, and the intense pain of burning disappeared.

I saw my daughter, Lily Atkinson. She was crying and calling my name.

I hurried over, desperate to hold her in my arms. But my hands passed right through her. I couldn't touch her.

Looking down, I realized I was transparent. My body was no longer physical, just a soul.

"It's okay, Lily. I'm here. Mommy's here," I repeated it over and over. My voice grew more choked with each word, but Lily couldn't hear a thing.

She had a burn on her face, and a blister had already formed.

A nurse was helping her treat the burn, and Lily was trembling in pain.

Watching her suffer twisted my heart. It was then that I understood that death didn't end pain.

Others who had survived the fire were surrounded by their families, but Lily was all alone by herself.

Feeling bad for her, the nurse gently asked, "Sweetie, where are your parents?"

Lily's eyes were red, with tears still clinging to her eyelashes. She spoke carefully, "Miss, could you please lend me your phone? I want to call my daddy."

The kind nurse handed her the phone.

As soon as the call connected, Lily desperately pleaded, "Daddy, please come save Mommy. She…"

Half an hour ago, the postpartum care center I was staying in had caught fire.

The fire spread quickly at the time. I held my newborn baby in one arm while gripping Lily's hand with the other.

I told her to run ahead and find her father, Stanley Atkinson, to tell him to come save me.

I thought she would be too scared to remember, but she had remembered my words clearly.

Stanley's impatient voice came through the phone. "You're saying your mom's in trouble? You're already lying for her at such a young age? What did she teach you?"

Before Lily could say another word, he hung up.

He didn't even ask and just assumed I was lying. Did he really not care if something happened to me?

Lily handed the phone back with a face full of disappointment.

I reached out to gently hold her and blew softly on the wound on her face.

Suddenly, an overwhelming force pulled me, and the scene around me shifted. I saw my husband, Stanley.

Stanley tightly held Sabrina Randall's hand while nervously asking the doctor, "Doctor, will this wound leave a scar? Are there any other precautions we need to take?"

The doctor's gaze shifted between the two of them. His expression was somewhat awkward.

As Stanley and Sabrina left the examination room, I overheard the doctor mutter quietly, "If his wife knew, she'd probably be devastated."

I had already been devastated so many times that I had become numb.

But I still had Lily, and Stanley was her father.

I floated to Stanley's side and coldly said, "Lily is upstairs. Go see her."

I knew full well that he couldn't hear me or see me. But I still stood in front of him, hoping against hope that he might hear me and go check on Lily.

But even as I shouted until my voice grew hoarse, nothing changed.

Sabrina tugged at Stanley's sleeve, "Maybe you should call Jaycee. She might actually be in trouble."

Stanley casually replied, "What trouble could she be in? She's probably just being dramatic to get my attention."

I saw a fleeting flash of triumph in Sabrina's eyes.

After that, Stanley took Sabrina home.

When the car stopped, my mind exploded.

How could Stanley let her stay here? This was my home, the place where I had lived in for over a decade and where my late parents had lived.

An accident killed them both, leaving me so deeply shaken that my mental health broke down. The doctor had suggested I change my surroundings, so this house remained vacant.

Stanley knew exactly how much this house meant to me.

Sabrina effortlessly entered the password and strode in confidently.

As soon as the door opened, a little girl came running out and clung to Sabrina's leg. "Mommy, are you okay now? Luckily, Daddy Stanley's here. Daddy Stanley, you're the best."

"Let me hold you." Stanley picked up the little girl.

The girl wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed his cheek, and cooed, "I love you the most, Daddy Stanley."

Stanley's eyes were filled with warmth as he smiled. "Hannah, do you love me more, or Mommy?"

Hannah Randall blinked, shifting her gaze between Sabrina and Stanley.

Stanley laughed heartily at her reaction. He spun her around before finally setting her down.

Meanwhile, Sabrina watched him the whole time. Her eyes were practically glued to him.

Her eyes turned red-rimmed as she sighed. "If I had married you back then, we wouldn't be…"

Stanley gently wiped her tears and softly comforted her, "That's all in the past. From now on, no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

Sabrina wrapped herself around him.

His body stiffened. He didn't embrace her, nor did he push her away.

"You have to keep your word," Sabrina muttered. "When I gave birth to Hannah, I almost died. At the edge of life and death, all I saw was your face."

Stanley comforted her again.

After a while, Sabrina pulled away and wiped her tears.

Seizing the moment, Stanley excused himself to use the bathroom. Once inside, he crouched down, frowning and clearly irritated.

His eyes were fixed on his phone, but he didn't make a move for a long time.

Curious, I glanced over.

The screen showed a chat with me.

The conversation remained frozen on a message I had sent two days ago.

Stanley stared at the last message I had sent him. "Sabrina again? Do you really have to be with her? I'm seven months pregnant. Aren't you worried I might die and lose our baby?"

Lily had gotten first place in her exam at that time. I had talked to Stanley about it for a long time.

Only then did he put down his work and come home early. We, as a family of three, were preparing to celebrate.

Just then, his phone rang. He was told that Sabrina had miscarried and was bleeding heavily.

Stanley immediately wanted to go to her. I grabbed him.

In my anger, I asked, "Don't you care about me? What if I die and lose the baby?"

Stanley looked at me helplessly. His voice sounded exhausted as he said, "Stop making a scene. You're fine."

After saying that, he turned and left without looking back.

But it wasn't long before my water broke.

After giving birth, I arranged for postpartum care at a center.

I hadn't expected to run into Sabrina there. At the time, Stanley wasn't around, and she was acting arrogantly in front of me.

I was furious and ended up arguing with her.

It was during this argument that the postpartum care center caught fire.

I immediately ran back to my room. Lily and my newborn son were still inside.

Stanley, who had said to stay by my side, didn't hear my cries for help. Instead, he carried Sabrina out of the fire.

And just like that, I was consumed by the flames with my newborn son.

I wanted to kill Stanley.

And I did. I reached out to grab his neck and tightened my grip.

"I'll be back soon. Tomorrow's your checkup day. I'll cancel my work and spend the whole day with you. Don't be angry, honey."

Stanley sent me a message, unaware that I was already dead.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated.

A message came through, written in my usual tone. "If you love Sabrina so much, why bother coming back? I don't need you. Get lost."