"Based on the surveillance footage, it appears Miss Gilbert's death was a suicide."

Detective Kennedy sat with his hands clasped on the table, a serious expression on his face. "If everything looks right, Mr. Ross, please sign here."

A thick stack of reports detailing the incident lay before Damari Ross. The stark, monochrome text declared my death.

Damari barely glanced at the document, sitting in silence.

Detective Kennedy, sensing this might take some time, swallowed and continued, "Mr. Ross, if there are no issues, please sign. We will proceed to transfer Miss Gilbert to the mortuary."

Damari remained in his own world, disconnected from everything around him.

Just as Detective Kennedy braced himself for a long wait, Damari suddenly spoke, "Did she suffer?"

"Uh, well..."

Detective Kennedy was momentarily taken aback, not expecting Damari to break his silence with such a question.

But before he could respond, Damari let out a faint, bitter laugh, as if realizing the absurdity of his question.

His pale lips moved slightly, "Sorry, forget I asked."

Then, with a decisive gesture, he signed his name on the document, pressing the pen heavily enough that it seemed it might bleed through to the next page.

"Please follow me," Detective Kennedy said, opening the door.

Damari stood up, his long legs striding forward, resuming his role as the unflappable businessman.

In the narrow corridor, Detective Kennedy spoke cautiously, "Mr. Ross, I need to prepare you. Your wife, Miss Gilbert's body, is not in the best condition."

He lowered his voice, "She fell from a great height and there was an impact."

He paused, "You need to be ready for that."

Damari's only response was a quiet "hmm," without any further reaction.

Detective Kennedy glanced at Damari, sighing quietly, sensing he'd done all he could.

Once we arrived, they followed procedure and brought "me" out.

Damari gave a brief, detached glance before efficiently assisting the police in transferring my body to the mortuary.

Throughout, Detective Kennedy couldn't help but watch Damari.

After all, during his time on the scene, the sight had left him feeling incredibly nauseous.

My body was battered from the fall, limbs broken and lifelessly splayed out.

My head was misshapen, thick blood covered my face, soaking into my hair.

I was no longer recognizable as a person.

The fear of death is ingrained in human nature, and few could remain as composed as Damari when faced with a corpse.

When everything was settled, Damari stood in the shadows, hands in his pockets. "Can I leave now?"

Detective Kennedy nodded, stunned. Damari left without a backward glance.

It was as if I, Harlee Gilbert, meant nothing to him.

Damari didn't go back to Nora's place; instead, he came home to us.

When Nora called, he pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice smooth and calming, "Nora, I'm alright. There's no need for you to come over."

From what I could gather, she was likely offering some comforting words, to which Damari occasionally replied with an "Mm-hmm" to reassure her.

As the conversation went on, Damari's voice grew sharper, tinged with annoyance: "Nora, Harlee's decision to jump was her own choice. She brought it on herself. It's not your fault."

His eyes turned a shade darker. "Even if there's payback, let it come for me."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before he realized he might have been too harsh. He softened his tone, "Nora, get some rest. Don't make me worry."

The room was silent, and Damari lay back on the Victorian-style couch, eyes closed, as still and silent as a statue.

He stayed like that for so long that I almost thought he had drifted off to sleep.

Then suddenly, I heard a quiet, sarcastic whisper: "Idiot..."

Idiot?

Indeed, an idiot.

How foolish it was, after ten years of being in love, to find out that Damari had fallen for someone else.

How foolish it was to expose his deceitful lies and still stubbornly go through with marrying him.

Damari and I were college sweethearts. From the beginning, his parents disapproved of us. The idea of "social class" seemed like an insurmountable barrier between us. Damari's family was wealthy, and he had been pampered since childhood—used to a life where his every wish was fulfilled.

The only setbacks Damari faced were because of me. First, during our early days, when I was distant and reserved, he fell for me—the introverted woman with a complex family background. Then, although he loved someone else, he ended up trapped in a marriage with me because of a child I used as leverage.

I clearly recall holding up the pregnancy test to pressure him into marriage. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable: "Harlee, you set me up."

Back then, I was determined to ensure no one found happiness. With a bitter smile, I defiantly replied, "Damari, just admit it."

Eventually, Damari gave in, whether out of guilt or obligation. Either way, I got what I wanted. When Nora heard the news, she tried to take her own life. While Damari left me to be with Nora in the hospital, I went in for a procedure to end the pregnancy.

As the cold instruments invaded my body, I recalled the stormy night when Damari's parents summoned me for a confrontation. The moment Damari found out, he was anxiously waiting outside my dorm, rain and wind beating down on him, turning the ground to mud. His nose was red from the cold wind, and when he saw me, there was a misty look in his eyes. He approached carefully and whispered, "Harlee..."

I responded with a simple "hmm," and he tentatively grasped the edge of my coat, softly asking, "Do you still want me?"

When had this pampered young man ever been so dejected?

As I walked out of the hospital, I ran into Damari, who was holding a takeout container. I smiled at him, and he cautiously stepped forward, as if expecting trouble. "Harlee, what more do you want?"

"Nora can't handle any more stress right now. Let's discuss this at home. Please, don't make a scene."

He then ushered me away from the hospital. The rough pull made me cry out in pain, but Damari seemed oblivious to my distress, continuing to drag me along.

I was taken aback. Did he really care for her that much? I hadn't even spoken a word, just smiled. Yet he assumed I'd cause harm.

Defiantly, I shook off his hand and headed towards the nurses' station, loudly asking for Nora's room number. Damari quickly covered my mouth, his breath tense with a warning: "Harlee, that's enough."

His eyes were filled with frustration, every feature of his face accusing me of being unreasonable. I thought, he truly loves her. Enough to ignore my visible weakness, enough to stand against me without hesitation.

I bit him hard, but he kept my mouth covered, refusing to let go. I stomped on his foot out of spite, and he let me. I struggled against him, and he only tightened his grip. It wasn't until I was exhausted and fainted from anger that he finally realized something was wrong.