Sophia lay in the hospital bed, weakened from being rescued. Joey carefully spoon-fed her warm porridge.
"Don't worry, I'll find the best doctors for you. With today's medical technology, you'll be walking again," Joey said softly.
He blew on each spoonful before offering it, a courtesy I had never received. If his heart already belonged to someone else, why married me?
Sophia's eyes were red, but she nodded earnestly.
They had their moments of peace, while I was, from the beginning, an intruder in their lives.
The phone rang sharply, but Joey glanced at it and decisively ended the call.
I saw clearly—it was my mother calling!
At her age, having to deal with this, even handling my affairs herself, was almost a form of torture for her!
"Maybe it's something urgent?" Sophia, noticing the persistent ringing and the phone's constant vibrations, suggested.
But there was little sincerity in her eyes.
Seeing her so understanding seemed to increase Joey's impatience. He answered the call without hesitation, his tone cold. "What's the matter?"
My mother was likely trying to say something, but I couldn't hear. I pressed my ear against the phone, but no sound came through.
"Aah…" A sharp cry made Joey immediately look up. He put the phone aside and turned to Sophia with concern. "What's wrong?"
"I… I'm fine." Sophia managed only these words, expending all her strength. She was sweating heavily, glancing at her legs. "It might be the effect of the anesthetic wearing off."
Her broken, intermittent words furrowed Joey's brow deeper.
He promptly pressed the button beside him, and a nurse hurried over.
The phone lay discarded, and I pressed close to it, hearing only the muffled sounds of crying.
Can ghosts even feel pain?
It felt as though something was squeezing my heart, making it hard to breathe, while Sophia nestled close to Joey, softly expressing her discomfort.
Compared to the pain of life and death, what were these pains?
Why was I the only one suffering?