Simon ran through three red lights, speeding to the forensic lab.
When he looked at the autopsy report, his eyes landed on the last line, where the name of the deceased was clearly written: Laura.
His eyes reddened, and even his fingertips trembled.
“You’re saying… the body is Laura’s? How is that possible?”
The words were clear as day, stamped with the institution’s seal, undeniable.
But Simon refused to accept it.
The forensic examiner rolled his eyes.
People had been talking for a while-how Simon didn’t care about Laura at all, especially given his recent public displays of affection with Hollie.
Who treats their loved one like that?
He guessed this young master had changed his heart.
And now it was all coming to light.
“The body is indeed your wife’s. The ring too-it’s hers…”
That ring was unique, the only one in the world. The inside band was engraved with my initials, custom-made by a top designer Simon had commissioned.
There was only ever that one ring.
But Simon had forgotten.
To him, it was just an ordinary piece of jewelry.
That’s right-he stopped caring long ago. How could he remember the days when he swore eternal love to me?
Simon refused to believe it, gripping the report so tightly that it crumpled in his hands.
“How could this be? How could she be dead?”
Given the condition the body arrived in, the examiner thought, it would be more surprising if she weren’t dead.
“I only locked her up for three days! How could this happen…?”
“The body’s mouth was sealed shut with industrial glue, her throat blocked completely. There was even acid residue in her stomach, and her internal organs were destroyed. It’s hard to imagine the suffering she went through before she died. Mr. Smith, just how much did you hate your wife?”
Yes, how much did he hate me?
“This isn’t right. You must be lying to me. I need to see her-take me to her…”
For the first time, Simon’s voice held a note of desperation, his arrogance and coldness replaced by the pleading of a broken man.
He no longer resembled the proud figure he once was, now more like a pitiful, lost soul.
I was dead.
He should be happy.
Now, he could marry Hollie, openly and without guilt, showering her with the same love and affection he once gave me, offering her everything.
But why?
Why was there not a trace of happiness on his face?
Instead, what I saw was…
Regret?
—
My body lay in the cold, sterile morgue. The air was freezing, almost enough to numb the soul.
When Simon saw my body again, his usual cold, expressionless mask was gone.
He bit down on his lip, trying to hold back the tears that welled in his eyes. Trembling, he reached out and touched my arm.
He removed the ring from my finger, and under the dim lights, he saw the engraved initials.
In that instant, a tear fell onto his hand.
What was he thinking?
Perhaps he was reliving the moment he made that fatal decision.
Recalling how, in his fury to teach me a lesson, he had drugged my drink, bound me, and thrown me into the trunk of his car.
Or maybe he was remembering how he and Hollie were wrapped in their love while I fought for my life in the darkness of that trunk.
Simon wanted to take my body home.
But James got there first.
This hospital belonged to the Porter family, and when James saw the results of the autopsy, he was ready to kill Simon on the spot.
If not for his family holding him back, Simon might not have made it out alive.
James couldn’t believe Simon still had the audacity to come.