Chapter 4: Ghosts of Us

I wanted him to flinch, to show some crack in his composure.

He was furious. His usually restrained demeanor broke—his eyes cold and sharp. He spat the words, each one cutting deep: “Don’t mention her in front of me. You know nothing.”

For a second, I thought he might throw me out of the office. I stood my ground, refusing to look away.

No, I thought, the one who knows nothing is you.

I glanced at the ring on his left hand—the same ring we exchanged before I died.

That’s why I hadn’t believed he truly had a new girlfriend. No one in a new relationship would still wear their ex’s ring.

The sight of that ring was a punch to the gut.

I wondered if Lily ever noticed, or if she pretended not to care.

Ethan and I had a wedding before I died. Though I was frail from chemotherapy, he looked at me in my dress, calling me beautiful.

The ceremony was just us. Afterward, he held me by the window, looking at the maple tree we’d planted together. He built a greenhouse around it, hoping I could see it bloom. “Do you think I can last until it flowers?” I asked. He kissed my forehead: “You can.”

The memory is a blur of sunlight and tears.

The maple tree was our hope—a future we’d never get.

But before the maple blossoms bloomed, I was gone. I asked him to call me if they did, and to remember to eat if I didn’t wake up. His tears fell silently as he promised.

I never woke again. I never saw the flowers bloom.

Sometimes, late at night, I wonder if the tree ever flowered, or if he let it die with me.

We’d been through so much. I couldn’t understand how he could treat someone else as me.

I didn’t give up on the angel’s bet—if only because I couldn’t stand seeing him deceive himself like this.

It became a twisted sort of motivation. I told myself, If I could just make him see the truth, everything would fall back into place.

But the world had moved on without me.

One evening after work, I saw Ethan quietly watching Lily work, his gaze distant, as if searching for a lover he could never reach.

He would never know—the lover he longed for was right behind him, watching silently.

I sighed, thinking: You don’t know how little time I have left.

The sight of him like that, so lost, made my chest ache.

I wanted to reach out, to tell him I was right there, but the rules held me back.

I was just a ghost in someone else’s life.

I didn’t understand why he kept Lily. Apart from her face, we had nothing in common. Lily was gentle, introverted, mute.

Even my mother would have seen the difference between us after an hour, despite our identical faces.

I started to wonder if maybe it wasn’t about me at all—maybe Ethan just needed someone to fill the silence I’d left behind.

Lily was a blank slate, easy to project onto.

This confusion deepened on the 28th day after my rebirth. That day, I stopped the receptionist from bringing oranges—Ethan was allergic. He overheard and asked, “How did you know?” I brushed it off: “Aren’t I supposed to be your future girlfriend? Of course I researched your preferences.”

I flashed him a playful grin, hoping to break the tension.