After I Died, My Wife Began to Love Me

Part 2

I had put her name on the deed to the house to make her feel secure, even though she didn't contribute a single penny.

"I've sold the house. Start packing; we're moving out," she declared, as casually as if she were discussing the weather.

"You sold the house?"

After seeing her with Jack at the restaurant, I knew our time together was running out. I had braced myself for the inevitable day she would leave me for him.

But I didn't expect her to sell the house first.

That morning, I had just returned from the hospital. The doctor had given me the diagnosis—stomach cancer, late stage.

As he patted my shoulder and sighed, my mind went blank. My only thought was of our daughter.

I had always suspected there was something between her and Jack, but I never imagined she would go this far for him.

My entire life had become a joke.

"Didn't you hear me? I said it clearly enough." Her voice was laced with annoyance.

"Where is Lily supposed to live?"

She rolled her eyes. "Plenty of people rent. Your daughter can figure it out."

Hearing the argument, my daughter came out of her room, watching from the corner with wide, anxious eyes.

For her sake, I kept my anger in check. But Emma kept pushing.

"Tom, do you even care that Jack is suffering from depression? How can you be so heartless? People like you get what's coming to them."

She threw Jack's medical report at me, her eyes burning with hatred.

"Mom, don't talk to Dad like that," my daughter said, running to Emma's side and holding onto her leg, trying to shield me.

"You ungrateful brat! How did I give birth to someone like you? You're just as worthless as your father."

I picked up my daughter, my heart breaking as she tried to hold back her tears.

Emma went to pack her bags.

"You haven't even found a new place. Why are you packing so soon?"

She glared at me, disgust clear on her face.

"Who said I'm moving in with you?"

If not with us, then the only place left was Jack's.

"We're still married," I reminded her, grasping at straws.

She laughed, cold and heartless.

"Thanks for the reminder. Next Monday, when the civil affairs office opens, I'll be there."

Hearing that, my daughter couldn't hold back anymore and burst into tears.

"Mommy, please don't leave. I promise I'll be good. I won't make you mad anymore."

She reached out, hoping Emma would comfort her, but Emma recoiled.

"Tom, get your daughter away from me. She's getting snot all over my clothes."

At those words, my daughter stopped crying, stiffening in my arms, unsure of what to do.

I was dying. I couldn't let her lose her mother too.

"I'm not getting a divorce."

"Jack was right—you really are pathetic."

Emma's chest heaved with anger as she jabbed a finger in my face, preparing to hurl more insults.

I covered my daughter's ears and carried her back to her room.

"Daddy, Mommy doesn't want us anymore. What are we going to do?"

Lily was only seven, just starting elementary school. Her small hands clutched my shirt as she looked up at me with tear-filled eyes.

"Don't worry, Lily. Daddy won't let Mommy leave."

I had to work multiple jobs just to support us after Emma drained our finances.

When my mother heard the news, she rushed over, traveling hundreds of miles.

"You've lost so much weight. Are you alright? If you need money, I've brought some for you."

My father died when I was young, and my mother raised me alone.

I had always hoped that once I started working, I could take care of her and give her a good life.

But Emma said she would never marry me if my mother stayed with us.

So, my mother, out of love for me, quietly left while I was at work and returned to the countryside. She never came back, no matter how many times I begged.

If I owed anyone in this life, it was her.

When Emma heard that my mother was visiting, she couldn't wait to stir up trouble.

I knew what she was planning—she wanted to use my mother as leverage to force me into a divorce.