Before I died, I made one last phone call. It was hung up by Ethan. He was currently holding another woman, cherishing her like a priceless treasure. That woman was already showing her pregnancy. My mother-in-law was calling her "sweetheart" with every breath, slipping a family heirloom bracelet onto her wrist. Ethan looked at her, his eyes filled with gentle indulgence. What a heartwarming, loving picture. Fortunately, their happiness was about to be shattered. Because the news of my death would soon reach them. 1 Floating in the air, I saw my body curled up in the snowy yard of my childhood home, confirming one thing—I was already dead. Maybe it takes a few days for the soul to dissipate. I comforted myself. The phone on the ground flashed a few times; it was Ethan calling. To be precise, it was him calling me back. The phone kept flashing until it shut down due to the cold protection feature. Ethan, it's too late to call back now. I can no longer answer. 2 Originally, I had planned to die quietly. But at that moment, the snow fell so gently, and the creaking of the swing sounded too much like when Ethan used to push me high into the air when we were kids. I suddenly wanted to say a proper goodbye to him. He still didn't know I had cancer. But when I called, he hung up immediately. I paused, then opened Mia's Instagram. Sure enough. She had posted a new video. In the mansion Ethan had bought for her, Ethan and his mother surrounded her, pampering and protecting her. The caption read: Help, I'm being spoiled silly! (Crying laughing emoji) I put my phone down, not wanting to see the scene of Ethan showing affection to someone else anymore. My stomach knotted, and a sharp pain surged again. I fell to my knees, coughing up mouthfuls of blood. The pristine snow was instantly dyed a bright red. I struggled to get up and sat back on the swing. Seriously, I was just making myself miserable right before I died. Old people, old things, old scenery. He now holds a new love; why would he want to see these things that have long since faded away? So in the end, I didn't say goodbye to him. 3 I looked around the small yard, which was full of memories. Dilapidated and desolate. Only the cold wind swept through. My grandparents had passed away long ago, and Ethan and I had moved away long ago too. No one took care of this place. Except for the swing I was sitting on, everything else was broken bricks and shattered tiles, nothing like it was when we were kids. The scenery is not what it used to be, and neither are the people. I laughed self-deprecatingly. The swing swayed back and forth. In the quiet yard, the only sound was the occasional rustle of snow sliding off the oak tree. In a daze, I heard my grandmother's affectionate call: "Emma, Ethan, come eat roasted marshmallows!" Over the fire, the white marshmallows were roasted until they were fragrant, soft, and gooey. Ethan broke off a piece, blowing on it constantly because it was hot, dipped it in a small bowl of sparkling white sugar, and brought it to my mouth. "Quick, it's best eaten while it's hot." The marshmallow was so good; I was so happy my eyes crinkled into crescents. Seeing me eat happily, the expectation in Ethan's eyes turned into satisfaction. He was even happier than if he had eaten it himself, and patiently endured the heat to break off more pieces for me. The Ethan from back then was so good. He loved to spoil me the most. Every time he received snacks or toys from his parents, he would always bring them to me first. He held the snacks, looking proud. "Emma, give me a smile. Smile, and I'll give it to you." I wouldn't humor him. I knew that no matter if I smiled or got angry, he would end up giving it to me anyway. If you had told me then that Ethan would one day protect another woman and let her slap me hard across the face... I probably would have cursed you out and called you crazy. 4 Ethan's parents were busy with work, and my parents were busy getting divorced. So, we both became "left-behind" children, living with our grandparents. But because we had each other, we were never lonely. We dealt with the bad kids who called us "strays" together, walked home from school together, did our homework together, dozed off together on the desk, and then got woken up by a knock from my grandfather. In the winter when I was ten, I suddenly ran a high fever at night due to chickenpox. It happened that the older people in the town had all gone to a town hall meeting, and only Ethan was at my house keeping me company. Ignoring the risk of infection, Ethan braved the wind and snow, carrying me on his back in the middle of the night to the hospital in town. I was delirious with fever, whimpering miserably on his back. He just kept comforting me. "Emma, don't be afraid. We'll be at the hospital soon. Once we get to the hospital and you take your medicine, you won't feel bad anymore..." He was only twelve at the time. The boy's back was still very slender, but he gritted his teeth and carried me for miles, never letting go of my arms once. All around was a desolate, endless expanse of snow. I hugged his neck, listening to his voice, feeling incredibly safe. So please forgive me; no matter how much he hurt me later, I couldn't just casually let go and walk away. 5 It had been a few days, and my body was still lying quietly in the snow. I worriedly thought that if I was accidentally discovered, it might scare someone to death. Sigh, I originally thought that death would end all troubles, but I really didn't expect to still have to worry about my own funeral arrangements. I decided to go find Ethan and see if I could tell him in a dream that I was dead. Maybe after I was buried, my soul would be able to disappear. I had no choice; there was no one else I could turn to. At least his name was still on the same marriage certificate as mine. Asking Attorney Vance to come collect my body wasn't asking too much, right? Before leaving, I took one last look at the snowy ground. When I was fifteen, it was right here that Ethan confessed his feelings to me. On the night of the first snow, he knocked on my window and mysteriously said he had something to show me. I groggily stepped out in my pajamas, only to be wrapped in a warm, oversized coat by Ethan. Then, he carefully led me out into the snow. In the middle of the yard, there was a giant heart stamped out by footprints, neat and perfect. The snow reflected the moonlight, clear and bright. At that time, Ethan had already grown into a handsome young man. He was blushing, hesitating to speak. It wasn't until I yawned and gestured that I was going back to sleep that Ethan got anxious and blurted out: "Emma Davis, I like you!" I was so spoiled by him at the time that I arrogantly lifted my chin. "Did you really have to go out of your way to tell me something so obvious?" Ethan was stunned for a few seconds, then, both annoyed and laughing, came over to tickle me. I laughed and curled up into a ball, responding to him between breaths. "I like you too, Ethan." I still remember how Ethan looked then. He was happy but restrained, only knowing to hold my hand. His eyes were bright, looking at me unblinkingly, as if to etch this moment into his heart. Snowflakes fell slowly like confetti, landing on his fine hair and long eyelashes. The boy's eyes were full of light, holding only me. For us back then, those feelings were a mutual, unspoken understanding; there was truly no need to say it out loud. 6 I floated back to the house Ethan and I shared. But to my surprise, Mia was there too. Ethan looked a bit irritable, pacing around the room. Finally, he stopped on the balcony, lit a cigarette, and his expression was obscured by the drifting smoke. This was Mia's first time in our house. She curiously rummaged through the photos on the wall, the coasters on the dining table, and the blankets on the sofa. She took a round, white disc out of my fridge, poked it playfully, and laughed. "Is this plastic? It's hard as a rock. Why is it in the fridge? How weird." Ethan turned around: "That's a mochi. It gets very soft when you roast it, wait—" But it was too late. Mia had already casually tossed it into the trash can. With a thud. I clenched my fists. If I had known that after my death, Mia would brazenly enter my home and rummage through my things, I would have burned the place down before I left! Mia stuck her tongue out apologetically: "Ah, my hand slipped. Ethan, you won't blame me, right?" Ethan looked at the mochi lying in the trash can and remained silent for a moment. "Forget it, it's not worth much. Emma can just buy more when she gets back." Mia had innocent eyes, and when she acted coy, she was sweet and cute. Shaking Ethan's arm, it was always easy to make people soften. The last time I heard her act like this, she was still calling him "Mr. Vance." 7 At that time, Ethan was already a well-known partner at his law firm, still very busy, and I hadn't broken the habit of bringing him food. One day when I brought food, he was in a meeting, so I left the thermos and departed. When I got outside, I realized my car keys had fallen out in the firm, so I went back to get them. I don't know when their meeting ended, but outside Ethan's office, I heard a girl complaining petulantly: "Why is it always the same few dishes? I'm so sick of them. Can't she change the menu?" I suddenly pushed the door open. Ethan and Mia were sitting at the desk, sharing and criticizing the dinner I had painstakingly prepared for him. My tone was a bit stiff: "Ethan stays up late a lot, so this is a dietary menu specifically for him. I apologize for not preparing a separate portion for Assistant Mia." Mia stuck her tongue out, looking at Ethan with a pitiful expression. "I'm sorry, Mr. Vance. I won't be a picky eater ever again." Ethan didn't seem to realize anything was wrong and even tapped Mia on the head in a slightly scolding, yet affectionate, manner. "Emma is mature and sensible, she wouldn't make a fuss over such a trivial matter. You think everyone is as childish as you?" 8 It wasn't always like this. In the past, Ethan never demanded that I be "mature and sensible." From childhood to our teenage years, from the old house's yard to the bustling city, he always said that little Emma just needed to be carefree and happy; he would take care of everything. Until the year I turned seventeen. That year, Ethan's family suffered a sudden misfortune. His father committed suicide after a business failure, and his mother cried all day. Reality abruptly shattered our romantic, naive youth. Ethan started working several jobs, and the financial and mental burden left him breathless. During one of our rare meetings, unable to hide his exhaustion, he forced a smile. "Emma, you need to be a little better-behaved now. I'm not by your side, so you need to take good care of yourself." I felt a deep ache for him and thought it was time I treated him well. So, I stopped asking him to prepare surprises for me, stopped asking him to call me in the morning to wake me up, stopped asking him to travel so far to spend my birthday with me, and stopped asking him to do so much for me. To help him pay off his debts, I also took on two jobs. I knew he wouldn't accept my help, so every month, I secretly transferred my salary and the living expenses I saved up to his mother. I only kept a tiny bit for myself, living on plain bread, greens, and free soup, even dreaming about eating braised pork. I remember my shift at the boba shop ended very late. On the way back, I was followed. I ran all the way to my dorm and only cried once I was inside, clutching my racing heart. I didn't even realize I had sprained my ankle, and I limped alone for months until it healed. I never told him any of this. But Ethan still felt very guilty, always apologizing for making little Emma suffer with him. I said it's okay, Ethan, life is long, you can just treat me well later. Ethan's eyes were red. He placed my hand on his chest and rubbed it gently over and over. "Emma, never ever leave me, okay? I'll treat you well for the rest of my life, I promise." When he said this, his expression was so earnest it was almost obsessive. I had to believe him. How could I not believe him? 9 We agreed it would be a lifetime. But in just ten years, everything has turned upside down; the world has changed completely. He gave all the indulgence and love he had for me in his youth to another arrogant, smiling girl. Actually, I should have noticed it earlier. He no longer called me "Little Emma," no longer spent time coaxing me. When he praised me for being understanding and considerate, there was actually a hint of regret in his eyes. Regretting that those innocent, carefree youth days had dimmed under the grind of life. 10 In fact, when Mia first joined the law firm, back when their relationship was innocent and there was no need for suspicion, Ethan often mentioned her to me. "There's a new girl, she's so mischievous, I really don't know what to do with her." When he said this, it sounded like he was annoyed, but his eyes were smiling. "Emma, she really reminds me of you when you were little. I don't even have the heart to punish her." Even so, I didn't doubt him. Until Mia repeatedly crossed the line and provoked me. When the power went out in her apartment, she called Ethan crying; after getting drunk at a networking event, she clung to Ethan and wouldn't let go, forcing him to take care of her all night; at the celebration party, she boldly smeared frosting on Ethan's face and kissed him, causing their colleagues to gather around and cheer... Because of her, Ethan and I fought countless times. I threatened him with divorce to make him fire Mia. Ethan rubbed his temples, his tone annoyed: "Emma, Mia is just acting childish. You were just as naive in the past; you should be the most understanding. Why are you so intolerant of her? Firing a young girl for such a reason, what is she supposed to do in the future?" His eyes held deep disappointment, as if he didn't recognize me anymore. "Emma, how did you become so harsh?" 11 In our frequent arguments, our relationship grew increasingly strained. I became depressed, suffering from insomnia night after night. Every time I was so exhausted I wanted to leave, the young Ethan would appear in my memories. He stood tall and slender in the snow, his hands warm, looking at me with eyes so pure and deeply affectionate. Is he still my Ethan? How could my Ethan bear to treat me like this? I couldn't bear to leave him, so I had to doubt myself. Was I really just being paranoid? Are they innocent? Should I be more magnanimous? But no matter how much we fought, Ethan refused to get a divorce, and I couldn't make up my mind either. We just stayed entangled like that. Until this midsummer, when I went to the hospital to get my test results. Coming out, I ran into Ethan. The elevator lobby was crowded. He had one arm around Mia's waist and the other protecting her belly, afraid someone might bump into her. That careful cherishing stung my eyes so badly they ached. Through the crowd, clutching my stomach cancer diagnosis, holding a phone that was only emitting a busy signal, under the scorching 100-degree sun, no matter how deeply I breathed, my teeth chattered uncontrollably. That was the first time I saw them together with my own eyes. All my self-comfort and lingering hope were shattered in that instant. 12 The moment Ethan saw me, only panic and shock remained. I abandoned the "understanding and considerate" facade I had maintained all these years. I slapped the face I had once loved so deeply and tearfully demanded: "Is this the 'innocence' you told me about?" Before I could get an answer, Mia rushed forward and slapped me hard, leaving me dazed for a few seconds. With her petite body, she fiercely shielded Ethan. "What right do you have to hit him!" When we were kids, Ethan and I got into a lot of fights. Everyone knew that hitting Ethan wasn't a big deal, but if you hit me, Ethan would fight you like a madman. I had never been hit like that before. Consumed by fury, by the time I came to my senses, I was already undignifiedly brawling with Mia. There were onlookers everywhere. Ethan tried to separate us. During the scuffle, Mia fell to the ground, crying out in pain. Ethan instinctively pushed me away, then tightly shielded Mia behind him. His tone was agitated: "Emma, it's all my fault, but Mia is pregnant with my child. You'll hurt her like this... Stop making a scene, okay?" My heart felt as if it had been brutally pierced by a sharp blade. Because of that one incident, I could no longer get pregnant. I thought this was a shared scar between Ethan and me, a painful point we avoided mentioning. It turned out I was the only one stuck in place. He already had his own new world. A sharp cramp twisted my stomach. My lips were also busted, the taste of blood filling my mouth. I vaguely remembered how, in the past, if I even accidentally bit my tongue, Ethan's heart would ache for hours. We were surrounded by onlookers; some were gossiping, others had their phones out recording. Mia was fiercely protected, leaving me standing there completely defenseless, surrounded by camera lenses and rumors. At least you can cry, I thought to myself. But I desperately held back my tears. Don't cry. Don't add to the joke. Thank goodness the hospital security guards arrived to separate us. And took me away from the most humiliating and miserable place in my life. 13 That evening, Ethan came to find me. I locked the door and refused to open it. He sat down outside. Through the door, he kept talking, regardless of whether I was listening or not. "Emma, that child was an accident. I drank too much that night and mistook Mia for you." "She looks so much like you. I couldn't help but take care of her... but I truly never intended to betray you." "It's just that... Mia is an innocent young girl. She's pregnant with my child. If I don't take responsibility, how can she survive..." "I'm sorry, Emma. Wait until the baby is born. You can beat me or curse me all you want." "When the time comes, I'll give Mia a sum of money and send her abroad." "Let's just pretend we adopted a child, okay? That way, my mom won't pressure you anymore." "Emma, I will never divorce you." "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you." "Emma, wait for me." ... 14 Ethan came looking for me every day, and Mia wasn't one to back down easily; she would always come and throw a massive tantrum. Perhaps the previous conflict had traumatized him, and he was afraid we would fight again. To ensure the baby's safe delivery, he stopped coming to see me. Instead, he sent long messages every day, painting pictures of our future life together, trying to placate me. I drew all the curtains, hiding alone in the pitch-black room. Masochistically, I scrolled through Mia's Instagram, looking at the public displays of affection she posted specifically for me to see. "Got leg cramps in the middle of the night. Thankfully, Mr. Vance massaged my legs all night." "Finally got the limited-edition bag I've been obsessing over! Mr. Vance is the best!" "Some women are just bad luck, bringing misfortune to everyone around them. And they still wonder why their men leave them? Hilarious." ... Ethan was still eagerly sending me messages. "Emma, just wait a little longer for me." He's so funny. He seems to think he's just going away for a while. And that I will wait for him right where I am, forever. Wait for what? Wait for the baby to be born, or wait for me to die? With the way I was living—drinking myself into a stupor, neglecting everything—my illness progressed incredibly fast. I probably wouldn't make it to the baby's one-month celebration. Looking back on this life. We had so many beautiful memories. But our last encounter was him protecting another woman and slapping me. 15 I floated around Ethan for these few days. I couldn't visit him in a dream, but I saw that he had been looking for me constantly. He grew more and more anxious, not even staying with Mia anymore. He called my number every day, hoping to hear the connection tone. In the middle of the night, Ethan suddenly jolted awake. He muttered, "Emma, Emma... she must have gone back!" Ethan drove through the night, crossing the vast, snowy plains, traversing the small path where he used to carry me on his back, and finally arrived at our old house in the hometown at dawn. The yard was already crowded with people, all talking over each other: "So sad. How could someone die here..." "Still so young too..." "Coughing up so much blood, it must have been an agonizing death..." "She still has a phone in her hand. Who knows who she was calling..." 16 When Ethan hurriedly pushed through the crowd, he only saw my body, half-buried in the snow. His eyes instantly turned red. He tried desperately to pull me out, but the onlookers pulled him away. "Hey, buddy! What are you doing? We already called the police. The police said to protect the scene. You can't go over there!" Ethan was held back tightly by several people, unable to move. From a few yards away, he stared at me blankly, his voice trembling: "Emma, don't scare me... What did you do? Don't scare me..." "Stop joking around with me. How could you..." That word "die" caught in Ethan's throat repeatedly, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. "Emma, wake up..." "I'll push you on the swing. Get up, okay?" "Please, get up..." Floating in the air, I sadly watched Ethan's desperate screams echo through the sky. Ethan, am I really that important to you?
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "416071", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel