After the bomb exploded, the entire room turned into a sea of fire. Flames shot skyward, instantly engulfing my body.The last image I saw was my wife, Harriet Philips, holding my blast shield firmly in front of Jeremy Sawyer, her first love.When I regained consciousness, I had become a spirit tethered to Harriet's side. She was holding Jeremy's hand, which was slightly scorched by the flames, and gently blowing on it."Jeremy, your hand is all red from the burn. Let's hurry to the hospital to get it bandaged," she said with utmost concern.Upon hearing this, a wave of bitterness flooded my heart.Anyone could see the deep and affectionate bond between them. However, Harriet had been my wife for three years. Ironically, she had never shown such anxiety or concern for me.The redness on Jeremy's hand was barely noticeable, but Harriet was overly worried. In contrast, she hadn't spared me a glance when I was engulfed in flames.Jeremy seemed to be recovering from immense fear and
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