Chapter 4

After leaving the hospital, Harriet took Jeremy straight to our home. She came up with the excuse that his injury made it inconvenient for him to manage his daily life on his own to justify taking him back with her.

As soon as they entered the house, Jeremy took out a pair of indoor slippers and even found the remote control to turn on the television without so much as looking around.

His smooth actions and familiarity with the surroundings made one thing painfully clear—Harriet had brought him to our home many times before.

Harriet went to the kitchen to start cooking, muttering to herself as she listed out Jeremy's favorite dishes.

Jeremy watched her with a gentle gaze and said warmly, "It's been such a long time since I've tasted your cooking, Hatty."

In the three years of our marriage, Harriet had never cooked even once. She always claimed that she didn't know how. Back then, I didn't mind and took on the cooking and all the other household chores myself.

Now, I could see that she "didn't know how" only in my presence.

During dinner, Harriet's phone suddenly rang. She answered it, and the sound of suppressed sobbing came from the other end.

"Harriet, please come quickly. Aaron… Aaron… is dead," Monica said, choking through her tears.

Harriet rolled her eyes, clearly not believing a word of it. "Monica, I know you're close with Aaron. But you shouldn't come up with such a clumsy excuse to cover for him. I know for a fact that he can't die."

Monica hadn't expected such a response. She was stunned for a moment before crying even harder as she tried to explain, "Harriet, I'm not lying to you! Aaron is—"

Before Monica could finish, Harriet hung up abruptly and complained, "Unbelievable! Aaron even came up with a lie like this to get us to forgive him. How ridiculous! Even if something did happen to him, he has the system to save him. There's no way he'd die."

Jeremy chimed in from the side, "He's probably just jealous. Men understand men, Hatty. Don't be too upset."

Upon hearing that, Harriet slammed her fork down heavily, her expression livid. "If he doesn't apologize to you properly when he gets back, I'll divorce him!"

Her words felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

When I'd begged Harriet not to take the blast shield away, I had already told her that I only had two chances at resurrection. Still, she didn't believe me and thought I was acting out in jealousy.

Even when someone informed her of my death now, she still dismissed it as a lie. She even used the threat of divorce against me. However, that threat was meaningless.

After dinner, Jeremy climbed onto the bed that belonged to me and Harriet. The room's temperature seemed to rise as they drew closer together.

I desperately tried to leave, but an invisible force kept me confined in the room.

Just as they were about to kiss, Harriet suddenly sat up abruptly. She forced a smile and said, "Jeremy, your hand is injured. You should focus on recovering for now."

With that, she fled to the guest bedroom.

I couldn't understand it. Wasn't this exactly what Harriet wanted?

The next morning, Harriet prepared a full breakfast for Jeremy and left a detailed note with instructions and reminders before heading out.

When she arrived at the police station, she noticed everyone looking at her with sympathy. She didn't understand why they were doing that, so she asked an officer who happened to be standing nearby.

The officer struggled to find the words to tell her the unfortunate news. But before he managed to say anything, the police chief, Samson Bayer, called her over.

Harriet found it strange. "Chief, what's going on?"

Samson patted her shoulder and led her to the morgue. "My condolences, Harriet," he said solemnly.

Harriet was taken aback. She tried to brush aside the unease growing in her heart. "Chief, what are you talking about? My family is fine. What's there to grieve about?"

Samson sighed and said, "After the bomb exploded yesterday, Aaron didn't make it out. He died at the scene. His body is inside."

Harriet forced a stiff smile. "Stop joking with me, Chief. That explosion was something Aaron rigged himself. There's no way he'd die. He's probably hiding to avoid responsibility."

Upon hearing her accusation, Samson's expression turned grim as he said reproachfully, "Aaron was your husband and a fellow officer! How could you question his character and sense of duty so thoughtlessly?

"The body in the morgue is undoubtedly his. We've already confirmed it through DNA testing. If you don't believe me, you can see for yourself."

Harriet swallowed hard and stepped forward hesitantly. She still muttered stubbornly, "Fine, I'll take a look. This whole thing must be a hoax. I'm sure Aaron had found a way to escape."

And so, her hand hovered over the white sheet. Judging from how much she was trembling, what she felt inside was far from the uncaring front she showed outwardly.

Slowly, she lifted the sheet…