5

I knew I had fainted. So when I woke up, I was shocked to find myself lying in a hospital bed—again.

I tried to sit up, but then I realized…I was floating.

Milo was crying, his hands clutching mine.

I frowned. Am I dead? Am I just a ghost now?

I followed him when he left the hospital room. I followed him as he knocked on my parents’ door. I followed him when he broke the news to my family and friends—that I was gone.

I watched them cry. I watched my mother crumble. I watched my father’s eyes turn red as he sobbed.

I wanted to hold them, but I couldn’t.

In the days that followed, I stayed with Milo—or rather, I floated after him, watching as he handled my funeral arrangements and my ashes.

It had only been a couple of days, but he already looked thinner, worn down.

Three days before my funeral, he sat before my ashes, hesitating before speaking.

“Elara, give me a sign. Should I tell Lucian or not? It’s your decision.”

I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted. But I hoped he wouldn’t.

Because I was afraid. Afraid Lucian would be relieved. Afraid he’d be devastated, too.

Then, his phone rang. I watched as he picked it up.

Lucian’s voice came through the other end, startling me.

“Milo, my wedding is in three days. I hope you’ll come and set aside all the drama with Elara for once. You’re my friend too, remember? I could really use your support at the altar.”

A familiar suffocation gripped my throat. I didn’t even know a ghost could feel like this.

Milo’s face went pale. His voice trembled. “Why…why does it have to be that day?”

Lucian sounded confused. “What’s wrong with that day?”

“No, nothing,” Milo whispered. “I’ll be there. I have to go now.” He hesitated before hanging up.

His voice barely above a whisper, he murmured, “Elara… Lucian is marrying Selene in three days.”

He stammered, his hands shaking. “But that day… that day is your funeral.”

That day was my funeral.

And on that very same day, my ex-husband was marrying the love of his life.

I took a deep breath—not because I needed the air anymore. How could I? Was this some kind of sick joke?

Even in death, Lucian still found ways to punish me.

I wanted to storm into his wedding, to tell him that I was gone, that I didn’t want his wedding overshadowing my funeral. But I couldn’t. Not only because I was just a ghost now, but because Lucian and I had already divorced.

He had the right to marry whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

There was nothing I could do to change that.

Three days later, Milo stepped out of his house in a sharp black suit, his expression indifferent. But I saw his eyes—still puffy from crying the night before.

It wasn’t just cruel to me. It was cruel to my friends, too.

And Milo… he was the one who blamed himself the most for what had happened between Lucian and me.

I wanted to hold him, to tell him that I no longer cared about Lucian or his wedding. That I cared about him more. That he shouldn’t waste another second mourning Lucian’s choices.

But all I could do was float behind him, following him to the wedding like a shadow.

The moment Milo stepped into the venue, the entire room fell into a stunned silence.

Lucian turned toward him, impeccably dressed in his tailored wedding suit, and quickly made his way over. “Milo, what the hell? Why are you dressed like this at my wedding? Didn’t you get the dress code? Everyone’s supposed to wear light colors. Is this some kind of joke?”

Milo’s voice was calm but cutting. “Excuse me, but after your wedding, I still have Elara’s funeral to attend. I don’t have the time or patience for your dress code.”