Chapter 1

My husband still didn’t know I was dead.

I had died a gruesome, agonizing death, and wild wolves tore my body apart.

My phone had shattered on the rocks below. He couldn't reach me to demand answers even if he tried.

All of this happened because his childhood sweetheart invited us on a nighttime hike to watch the sunrise.

During the climb, she tripped and fell.

With tearful eyes, she blamed me, claiming I had shoved her.

In a fit of blind rage, my husband abandoned me in the middle of nowhere on that pitch-black mountain trail.

I panicked and tried to run after them, but I lost my footing in the dark and plunged off the edge of the cliff.

Now, my spirit hovered above him, watching his brow furrow in irritation.

Too bad for him. He would never find me again.

The call connected, but only a cold, automated female voice answered: "The number you have dialed is currently turned off..."

Logan frowned, pulled the phone back, and checked the screen.

It was definitely my number. Why was it off?

Refusing to give up, he dialed again, only to receive the exact same automated response.

Annoyed, Logan tossed the phone onto the bed. All he had done was leave her halfway down the trail. Whether she hiked to the summit for the sunrise or walked back to the car, it wouldn't have taken her long.

Yet here she was, throwing another dramatic tantrum.

If she hadn't pushed Chloe and sprained Chloe's ankle, would he have ever gotten that angry?

Chloe had already said she wouldn't hold a grudge, yet Elena had the nerve to act like the victim.

The more Logan thought about it, the angrier he got. Whenever they fought in the past, Elena would always come back and apologize within two days without fail.

She really thought she could act tough this time.

Fine. If she wasn't going to apologize, he wasn't going to reach out to her either.

He wanted to see just how long Elena could keep this up.

A distinct ringtone chimed from the bed, and the irritation on Logan's face instantly softened.

He picked up, his voice turning gentle. "Chloe? How’s your ankle feeling?"

Chloe gave a soft murmur before asking, "Did Elena come home yet? It's been so long, and she hasn't reached out to either of us. I'm really worried about her."

Remembering that Elena dared to shut off her phone and leave Chloe worrying, anger flared in Logan's eyes once more.

"Don't worry about her. She had the guts to push you on that mountain. It's time I teach her a lesson and break that nasty attitude of hers."

"By the way, have you eaten yet? I had Martha make some ginseng chicken soup for you. It'll help your ankle heal faster."

Chloe giggled happily over the line.

Watching them act so sweet together, I let out a bitter laugh as I hovered beside Logan.

Chloe had only twisted her ankle. She could walk on it without any real trouble, but in Logan's eyes, it was as if she needed an amputation.

Not only did he insist she stay in bed all day, but he also had Martha cook three meals a day so he could personally deliver them to her apartment.

I remembered when I suffered from debilitating menstrual cramps, lying in bed drenched in cold sweat. Martha had only made me a cup of warm brown sugar ginger tea, and Logan had scoffed, calling me dramatic.

"Chloe gets her period too, and she never makes a scene like this. Stop being so needy."

Yet now, Chloe sprained her ankle, and he treated her like she belonged in a wheelchair.

Love—and the lack of it—was always written in the smallest details.

Martha ladled the hot soup into a thermos, handed it to Logan, and asked quietly, "Mr. Vance, Mrs. Vance still hasn't come back. Usually, whenever she gets upset with you, she's home by the next day, but now..."

Logan glared up at her. The icy look in his eyes instantly silenced Martha, and she turned around, hurrying back into the kitchen.

Even our housekeeper worried about where I was, yet Logan didn't care in the slightest. All he cared about was pampering Chloe.

I drifted behind Logan as he got into his car and drove over to Chloe's place.

Chloe was lying in bed, scrolling on her phone. Seeing Logan walk in, she smiled excitedly and tried to slide out of bed. The second her feet touched the floor, she wobbled and tumbled forward.

Logan rushed over and caught her in his arms, his tone full of scolded affection. "Your foot isn't healed yet! Why are you trying to walk? What if it gets worse? Do I really need to stay by your side twenty-four hours a day?"

It sounded like a reprimand, but his eyes were dripping with devotion.

Chloe nestled deeper into his chest and pouted. "I was just so excited to see you! I won't do it again."

Logan lifted Chloe back into bed, tucked her under the blankets, and opened the thermos.

Her ankle was hurt, not her arms, yet Logan insisted on spoon-feeding her the soup.

"Logan, my hands are fine," Chloe protested gently, reaching for the spoon.

He gently pushed her hand away. "You're a patient right now, and patients need to be taken care of."

Chloe gave in, opening her mouth obediently.