My Wife Only Started Loving Me After I Died

[Short Story Expanded into a Long Novel] [Dead Man's Literature] [The Husband-Chasing Crematorium] [Regret Literature] [White Moonlight]

After seven years of love, we became husband and wife.

In the end, I was still just an emotional stand-in who bore a slight resemblance to her white moonlight.

She told me to go die and never set foot in the house again.

Perhaps no one could have imagined that I would really die in the street.

After being reborn, I awoke to meet a frail girl who stammered and worked three part-time jobs...

Perhaps it was always this way: only what is forever out of reach can be white moonlight.

A blue rose tucked into a yearbook, a white scarf tossed into the trash, a floral dress folded away in the wardrobe.

We were starting to lose track of who was whose stand-in.