An ambiguous atmosphere filled the room. I didn't know why, but even though I was dead, my soul remained there. I could see, hear, and even smell everything.
Like some kind of torture, I was forced to watch Fu Yanshen having sex with his lover.
His lover made a point of moaning loudly, and Fu Yanshen kept glancing toward the bed. My corpse was lying there.
They both seemed eager to get my attention. Too bad I was dead. Nothing they did mattered to me anymore.
Fu Yanshen and I had been together for over ten years, tormenting each other for all of them.
Now that I was dead, it all seemed rather ridiculous.
If we had both backed down back then, things might never have come to this.
After they were done, Fu Yanshen sent his lover away. As she left, the woman glared at me resentfully.
Still holding a grudge even though I'm dead.
Fu Yanshen lit a cigarette. The smell of nicotine covered up the foul, nauseating stench.
The cigarette smelled awful too. I'd never been able to stand such a pungent smell, but Fu Yanshen had always liked smoking in front of me just to get me riled up.
Now, even if he was trying to provoke me, I wouldn't say a thing.
"Tang Wan, how long are you going to keep pretending?" Fu Yanshen asked after finishing his last cigarette, his voice icy.
Out in the world, he was a business tycoon adored by all, the head of the Fu Group, born arrogant and utterly conceited.
We'd still been fighting two days before I died. It was strange not being able to speak now that I was dead.
Before, we'd have been shouting at each other by now.
Fu Yanshen saw that I wasn't answering. He was furious and seemed a little uneasy, but even so, he didn't come over to check on me.
"Divorce," he said curtly, then left.
He'd brought up those two words countless times. Every time, I refused, for the sake of the Tang family and our son.
I'd never agreed. Now, for my own sake, I really wanted to say yes.
What a pity. The one time I agreed to divorce, he could never know.
A short first-person story
Theme: You can't count on men.
