Chapter 1

As I died from cancer, my husband was wrapped up in Zoe's gymnastics. "Just let her die already! Saves me the trouble of a freakin' divorce," he snapped before hanging up on my doctor. I woke up, surprise, as a ghost, right beside them, watching them continue the "gymnastics." F#@!

At first, I just stood there, frozen, my mind blank. This couldn't be real. This wasn't real. But the sounds, the laughter, the way Lucas looked at her, it was all too vivid, too cruel. My chest tightened, even though I didn't have a heart anymore.

Then, the anger hit. White-hot, searing, like a fire I couldn't put out. How could he? How could he do this to me, in our home, on the day I died? I wanted to scream, to throw something, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I felt.

I turned away, desperate to escape, to get as far from this nightmare as possible. But the moment I reached the door, I slammed into an invisible wall. I tried again, and again, but it was no use. I was trapped, forced to watch as Lucas and Zoe laughed, kissed, and carried on like I never existed.

The realization hit me like a tidal wave: I wasn't just a ghost. I was a freaking prisoner!

And then, in the middle of it all, Zoe suddenly paused, "Luke, this place is covered in dust. How long has Ava been gone having her little adventures?"

Lucas didn't even stop. He just sighed, his voice lazy and dismissive. "She preferred to avoid me. But don't worry, I'll make sure the divorce happens soon enough."

Zoe giggled, leaning back into him, her smirk widening. I stood there, frozen, my heart, or whatever was left of it, shattering all over again. In the house we'd once shared, the man I'd loved for so long was holding another woman, talking about me like I was nothing more than an inconvenience.

They kept going, their laughter and whispers filling the room, while our wedding photo hung on the wall behind them, a silent witness to the life he'd thrown away.

I didn't want to see any more. I couldn't see any more. But no matter how hard I willed myself to look away, I couldn't.

Then, as they finally slowed down, Lucas murmured in her ear, his voice dripping with sweetness, "Zoe, happy birthday."

And just like that, the final blow hit me: today wasn't just Zoe's birthday. It was the day I died.

The day he chose her over me.