After I Died, My Ex-Husband Wept at My Grave
The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night.
The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face.
When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on."
It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it.
Later, I died.
But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.
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