My Wife Was Happiest When I Died

The year I die, my wife, Liana Chandler, despises me more than ever before. Unable to handle her endless emotional abuse, I choose to end my own life by swallowing pills. At the crematorium, she watches the roaring flames in the cremation chamber with a rare smile. "Filth like him doesn't deserve a proper burial," she comments. When the employee hands her my cremation urn, she swiftly overturns it, scattering my ashes all over the floor in an instant. All this time, she has believed that I'm the one who caused her first love's death. So, she took great pains to formulate a plan—all for this very moment. When everything is over, she walks away without looking back, trampling my ashes underfoot. But before long, she's on her knees, begging for the funeral parlor to give my ashes back to her. Chapter 1 My wife, Liana Chandler, was in the middle of signing an eight-figure contract when she received news of my death. Her secretary, Tyson Weller, entered the room with a sombre expression. "Ms. Chandler, Mr. Leonard… has passed away." Liana's pen tip paused above the document for a moment, leaving a small ink blot. She looked up slowly and asked, "He's dead?" "Yes. According to the police's preliminary investigation, it was suicide." The air in the room abruptly seemed to still. Liana was silent for several seconds. Then, she slumped back against her chair as if exhausted and let out a long sigh. When I drifted over to her side, I actually saw tears in her eyes. The setting sun cast shadows over her face. She looked exactly like she did all those years ago when I first fell in love with her. But why was she crying? Was she happy? After all, she'd waited years to avenge her first love, Hector Jennings. Back in high school, she and Hector had been a couple everyone envied. I, on the other hand, had been nothing but an incompetent wimp who could only crush on her in secret. I had assumed that my feelings would never come to light, but then Hector was diagnosed with a terminal illness. He didn't want to burden her, so he sought me out instead. He told me that he could see the unconditional love in my eyes. So, he asked me to take care of Liana after he was gone and stay by her side through the most difficult period of her life. As for Hector himself, he chose to let his life run its course in a faraway place. In fact, he didn't even say goodbye to anyone before he breathed his last. I promised him that I would protect this secret, but Liana thought that I was the reason she and Hector never got to see each other one last time. She also felt that I'd somehow said something to drive him to his death. So, she pretended to develop feelings for me over time, acting as if my sincerity had truly moved her. She came up with a painstakingly elaborate scheme—she stripped me of my authority within the company and alienated me from my family, all while declaring her love for me. Once she had squeezed out the last bit of usefulness from me, she finally revealed her true intentions and told me she never actually loved me. That hurt me more than anything else. My heart ached faintly at the mere memory of her icy gaze. By the time I regained my senses, my soul, which was stuck by her side, had been dragged along into her car. Judging by the direction she was heading in, she was probably on the way to the funeral parlor. I never thought she would still want to see me one final time. When we arrived, my body was already being cremated. Behind the crematorium's steel gates, my body, once full of life, was burning fiercely. I looked at Liana, who was standing before the viewing window. She stared unblinkingly into the flames, her expression unreadable. One of the employees stepped forward cautiously. "Would you like to see him one final time, Ms. Chandler?" "No thanks," she replied coldly. "Make sure he burns thoroughly." I smiled self-deprecatingly at that. I tried to reach out and touch her face, but my hand simply passed through her body. It turned out that even touch was a luxury for the dead. I didn't know how long the cremation lasted. All I knew was that when the doors opened again, my body, which once stood at six feet and three inches, was nothing but fragments packed into a small square box. An employee respectfully held the wooden box out to Liana. "My condolences, Ms. Chandler." Instead of taking the box, Liana merely stared at the photo on it for a few seconds. It was a photo of me, smiling happily. In truth, I hadn't taken a single photo ever since I found out the real reason why Liana got together with me. Even this close-up photo, in which I was smiling widely, had actually been cropped from a photo of the two of us together. Liana slowly brushed her fingers over my face in the photo, which felt nothing like my actual skin. Suddenly, she smiled. "Condolences? Why would you need to offer me condolences for the death of a murderer? I simply don't think filth like him deserves a proper burial." Her eyes flashed with hatred, and she raised a hand to overturn the urn. With a clatter, my ashes scattered all over the floor like gray snow. "My apologies, Ms. Chandler! It's my mistake!" the employee yelped, scrambling to clean up the mess. However, Liana lifted a hand to stop them. "There's no need to trouble yourself with that. Just sweep up the ashes and wash them down the drain." With that, she turned and walked away, her back cold and resolute. I watched her walk away, feeling as if there were daggers in my heart. When we first got together, it was obvious that she couldn't even bear to see me hurt, yet now, she could say such heartless things without batting an eye. It turned out that hatred could really bring out the worst in people. Chapter 2 When Liana left the funeral parlor, the sky had already turned dark. She walked along in her high heels, her back straight, thoroughly unaffected by the fact that she'd scattered my ashes. Just then, a familiar figure rushed over to her. Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was Felix Quinlan, my long-time buddy and best friend. He was panting, his forehead was covered with sweat, and his eyes were red and puffy as if he'd been crying. As soon as he saw Liana, he stopped and asked, "Why are you here?" Liana frowned at the sight of him and asked frostily in return, "Why are you here?" Felix, who was still catching his breath, gazed at her with a complicated look in his eyes. "I came to pay my last respects to Adrian," he replied. Upon hearing this, Liana's lips curved into a mocking smile. "Pay your respects? It looks like you're going to be disappointed, then. You can't see him anymore." Felix was momentarily stunned, then his expression darkened. "What do you mean by that?" Liana didn't reply. She simply gave him a scornful look before turning to leave. His heart sinking, Felix dashed into the funeral parlor. He got there just in time to see some employees sweeping ashes into a dustpan with a broom. Rushing over, he grabbed an employee by the arm. "What are you doing?" he yelled shakily. Startled, the employee replied, "W-we're just following Ms. Chandler's orders…" Felix clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles cracked. He rushed out of the funeral parlor and grabbed hold of Liana just as she was about to get into the car. "Damn you, Liana Chandler! Have you no conscience? Adrian gave you his whole heart! I've never met anyone who loved you more than him! And yet, this is how you treat him?" "Let go!" Liana shook Felix off coldly, a fierce look in her eyes. "He loved me more than anyone, you say? Ha! He should've seen this coming from the moment he killed Hector!" Felix gritted his teeth, his eyes bloodshot. "Bullshit! Hector's death had nothing to do with—" "Shut up!" Liana screamed. Before Felix could finish speaking, she slapped him across the face, effectively cutting off the rest of his sentence. "Who are you to bring up Hector in front of me? It looks like I'll have to teach you a lesson on Adrian's behalf!" With a single wave of her hand, several bodyguards instantly surrounded Felix. Felix tried to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he was kneed in the stomach. He curled up with a muffled groan. Immediately afterward, fists rained down on him. "Stop! Stop hitting him!" I bellowed at Liana, but she couldn't hear me. I desperately tried to stop the bodyguards, but I could only watch helplessly as my hands passed right through their bodies. "Liana Chandler! Listen to me! Hector's death had absolutely nothing to—" Felix continued struggling, but then a bodyguard struck him directly in the face. Blood instantly oozed out of the corner of his mouth. "Enough! Liana, Felix is innocent! Please leave him alone!" I cried out in despair, but no one reacted in the slightest. The bodyguards didn't stop until Felix was curled up on the ground, bloody and beaten. Still, he stared fixedly at Liana as if he was trying to commit her image to his memory. He lay in a pool of blood, breathing weakly. "You… will regret it one day…" His words amused Liana. "Oh? Is that so?" she asked. She tilted her chin up and scoffed, "I'll be looking forward to seeing how exactly you make me regret it, then. But you should probably worry more about yourself right now." Then, her gaze sharpened, and she commanded, "Drag him away. He's an eyesore." At those words, the bodyguards grabbed Felix by the collar and tossed him by the roadside as if he were nothing but trash. I watched it all happen with an aching heart. My very soul felt like it was being torn into two. Meanwhile, Liana got into her car and slammed the door shut, just like she'd just slammed the door shut on a long-buried truth. As the car engine started, I took one last glance back at Felix. He was lying on the ground, but his fingers twitched as if he was trying to get back up again. My heart ached fiercely, but I couldn't even shed a single tear. Inside the car, Liana leaned against the window with an indifferent expression, but I noticed her trembling fingers. What was she thinking about? Was she regretting her actions? Or was she still not satisfied with her revenge? I didn't know. The only thing I knew was that I was suffering no less than I had in life. As I looked at her beautiful face, I couldn't help but murmur, "Liana Chandler, how much longer do you intend to hate me?" Chapter 3 News of my death quickly spread among my friends and former classmates. My former faculty advisor, Professor Elena Gibson, sent Liana a message saying that she'd sorted out some of my old belongings in the faculty office. Among those belongings were notebooks, pens, a few photos, and some other bits and bobs. She asked if Liana would like to keep them as mementos. Liana stared at the phone screen, her fingers hovering over the on-screen keyboard. She didn't reply for a long time. I floated beside her, expecting her to reject the offer. After all, she didn't even think my ashes were worth keeping, so what were these useless items to her in comparison? Unexpectedly, after a stretch of silence, she finally replied, "Okay." When the weekend arrived, she drove over to our old university. The campus still looked the same, almost as if it'd been frozen in time, from the cobblestone path winding under the shade of the oak tree to the students rushing to and fro in front of the library. Liana, wearing high heels as usual, headed toward the administration block impassively. But I noticed she was walking slightly slower than usual, looking around as though she was searching for something. When Professor Gibson saw her, she sighed and handed over a small cardboard box. "These are all Adrian's old belongings. He… always treasured them." Liana said nothing. She simply rummaged through the box. There were a few notebooks with her name written across the title page. There were also a few photos as well as other miscellaneous items. "Adrian fancied you for a long time, ever since your university days. When I heard that you two got married later on, I was so happy for him. His wish finally came true." She sighed and added, "Fate can be cruel sometimes." Liana's grip tightened when she heard Professor Gibson's words, crumpling a corner of a photograph. A strange flicker of emotion crossed her eyes, as if something had gotten to her. Eventually, she just hummed noncommittally before picking up the box and turning to leave. I thought she'd leave campus grounds immediately, but that wasn't the case. Instead, she headed down to the lake—the very place where I'd worked up the courage to confess to her. That night, I'd confessed my feelings, stumbling over my words for what felt like forever. She remained silent for a long while, so long that I almost thought that I'd blown my chance. But in the end, she smiled and asked, "Why are you so dense? If you like me, just say so." Now, I couldn't tell what she was thinking as she stood by the lakeside, staring out at the calm waters. We'd once walked laps around the sports field, hand in hand. She used to swing my arm to and fro, smiling carefreely. Had she truly been happy back then? Or… had it been an act from the very beginning? I followed after her with downcast eyes, watching as her pace slowed until she finally arrived at the cafeteria we used to frequent. She ordered the pizza that used to be her favorite item on the menu, but she only took two bites before pausing. She lowered her head, her fingers trembling minutely around the pizza, then swallowed as if something was stuck in her throat. I floated before her and smiled self-deprecatingly. "What's wrong? Are you thinking of Hector? Are you thinking about how nice it'd be if he were sitting here instead?" Tears suddenly began streaming down her face, and she could barely suppress her sobs. In the end, she shot up from her seat, picked up the box, and swiftly walked outside. Her steps grew increasingly hurried until she was practically jogging back to the car. After closing the car door, she took a deep breath and buried her face against the steering wheel. Her shoulders shook slightly. I was stunned. Was she… crying? Could those tears be for me? In the next second, I couldn't help but smile bitterly. How could she possibly be crying for me? She resented me so much that she didn't even want to keep my ashes. So how could reminiscing about our time together possibly upset her? It was likely that the sight of those familiar surroundings had stirred up her memories of Hector. After all, she had never loved me. Chapter 4 Ever since the day we returned from the university, I noticed that Liana had been acting increasingly odd. She should clearly be overjoyed that I was dead. After all, she'd finally gotten her revenge against me after hating me for so many years. She'd even scattered all my ashes. Logically speaking, she should be feeling relieved. However, she'd been quiet and listless lately. She was even distracted during company meetings. Even Tyson had picked up on it. He offered cautiously, "Ms. Chandler, you've been out of sorts lately. Should I cancel some of your engagements so that you can take a small vacation? I can book your flight tickets and hotel for you." Liana stared at her computer screen, unconsciously drumming her fingers against the tabletop. After a long silence, she finally replied, "Cancel the meetings scheduled for this afternoon and tomorrow." Tyson nodded. "Alright. Where would you like to go? I'll make arrangements immediately." "The cemetery," she said calmly. I was taken aback. The cemetery? Did she want to visit Hector's grave? But… nobody knew where Hector went after he left all those years ago. How could his grave be there when we hadn't even been able to find his body? That afternoon, I followed Liana to the cemetery in the suburbs. Dressed in all black, she carried a paper bag, treading lightly as if afraid of disturbing something. It wasn't until she stopped in front of a grave that I was able to clearly make out the name on it. Hector Jennings. My heart sank like a stone. The tombstone was new, and the area around it was clean. It was evident that someone regularly visited to tidy up the place. Yet, I knew that Hector's ashes weren't here. Instead, only a few clothes he once wore were buried here. Liana crouched down and gently dusted off the photo on the tombstone. Her movements were as gentle as a person caressing their lover's face. I suddenly felt a bitter pang in my heart. She really, really loved Hector. Even if nothing remained of him, she was still willing to buy a burial plot just to give him a proper grave. On the other hand, she'd personally scattered my ashes and ensured that not a trace of me was left behind. She dropped her guard and carelessly took two bottles of hard liquor out of the paper bag. Then, she casually sat down beside the grave, uncorked the bottle, and took a swig from it. The liquor burned as it went down, but she simply frowned and swallowed it. As she leaned against the tombstone, the sorrow and confusion in her gaze deepened. "Hector, I'm here to see you." The wind blew past her gently, and the leaves rustled as if in answer to her. She continued to drink while addressing the tombstone. Her tone was casual, yet she also sounded like she was trying to confide in someone. "Are you doing well over there? I really miss you." I stood to one side, feeling an aching tightness in my chest. She drank more and more, leaning against the cold tombstone and muttering unceasingly to herself. Soon, her cheeks grew flushed, and her gaze gradually turned unfocused. By the end, she was practically draped over the tombstone. She mindlessly picked at its edges while murmuring, "Hector… I've already avenged you, so why… why don't I feel happy at all?" Her voice was choked with sobs. Then, as if she could no longer hold it in, she buried her face in the crook of her arm and cried. Her shoulders were shaking. I stared blankly at her, feeling as if my heart was caught in a vice. She was upset, yet I was powerless to do anything. A strong smell of alcohol surrounded Liana. Noticing that she was dead drunk, Tyson hurried over. "Ms. Chandler, are you alright? Do you need me to send you home?" he asked cautiously. Instead of replying, Liana blearily shook and nodded her head in turn. Left with no choice, Tyson helped her up, then half-carried, half-dragged her back to the car. She lay slumped in the back seat, breathing heavily. Her eyes were half-closed, and she was mumbling incoherently. I leaned closer to make out the words, then stiffened. "Adrian…" She was calling my name.