I died.
I died on the way home to celebrate my third wedding anniversary with Frank Thornton.
A truck ran a red light and crashed into my car, killing me instantly.
Unexpectedly, my soul didn't leave this world.
I felt somewhat relieved.
It meant I could see Frank Thornton one last time.
Just as I felt this relief, my body started to drift inexplicably.
I was at a loss, and then suddenly, I felt a powerful force pulling me in.
In the next second, I found myself at our home.
What greeted my eyes was Frank Thornton holding a child, and Rita Hart lying on the bed, looking at him and the child with a gentle expression.
Frank Thornton, always so aloof, now had a smile on his face.
It was something I had longed to see but never did.
Only now did I realize that he could smile, just not for me.
The scene deeply pierced my soul, making it drift even further.
Ever since Rita Hart returned home pregnant, Frank Thornton hadn't been to the company, rarely came home, and completely ignored me.
I heard through the grapevine that Rita Hart's ex-husband had become addicted to gambling, causing their company to go bankrupt and leaving them in massive debt.
Her husband ran off, leaving her to face threats and harassment from debt collectors, and she had nearly given birth prematurely.
That's why she chose to divorce and come back to Frank Thornton.
After she returned, Frank arranged the best hospital, hired the best doctors, and took care of her day and night, afraid she might get hurt.
He even planned to bring her to our home.
I disagreed, and we had a big fight over it.
"Rita Hart has no one else; I can't ignore her when she's in trouble."
Tears welled up in my eyes, "What about me?"
"Sandra Thornton!"
Frank Thornton lit a cigarette, his tone turning cold, "How many times do I have to tell you, I only see her as a sister."
"We've been married for three years, and you still lack a sense of security?"
Do I lack a sense of security?
I couldn't help but mock myself, yes.
I do lack a sense of security.
Frank Thornton saw right through me, and yet, he didn't care about my feelings.
After years of entanglement with him, I suddenly felt tired at that moment.
"Let's get a divorce."
Frank Thornton stayed silent, but the way he crushed the cigarette butt revealed that his patience had reached its limit.
As I turned to leave, Frank Thornton grabbed me and threw me onto the sofa.
"Sandra Thornton, how many times do I have to tell you, huh?"
He half-knelt on top of me, pinning my hands and ignoring my trembling body, brutally tearing open my shirt and biting my lips as a punishment.
"I've told you, without my permission, you can't leave me."
Frank Thornton's hot breath fell on my ear, but his image in my eyes grew blurrier.
"Rita Hart is pregnant and has nowhere to go. Don’t worry, once she gives birth, I'll send her away."
His fingers dug into my waist, his kisses trailing down my neck, whispering, "Sandra, it's always been you that I love."
I closed my eyes, my nails digging into my palm to suppress my nausea.
"Frank Thornton, this home is only big enough for one of us. It's either her or me."
After that day, I died in a car accident.
This house really doesn't have me anymore.
And Frank Thornton really brought Rita Hart back home.