After I Died for My Wife's Brother, She Went MadChapter 1 Death

I married the daughter of a wealthy family.

Everyone said that I got a great deal.

Only I knew that Zoila Jenkins was getting close to me for some reasons.

She did it just for the heart that matched with her brother Ray Jenkins.

Finally, I had a car accident under Ray's design.

I gave my heart to him.

My wife had gone crazy.

Finally, she dug out the heart that belonged to me and beat herself to death in front of my grave.

1.

I died.

When my body lay in the operating room, I wanted to take a last look at my wife, but my soul uncontrollably drifted towards the outside of the emergency room. My wife, Zoila, was anxiously pacing outside the emergency room, her face filled with deep concern.

But the person she was worried about was not me, but her brother, Ray Jenkins, who was lying next to me undergoing an organ transplantation.

The anxiety on her face was something I had never seen in all the years since we had been married.

Thinking about this, I had a bitter feeling in my heart.

Why do I still feel sadness when I die?

I died in a car accident, the violent impact had already disfigured me, leaving only a weak and miserable body struggling to survive.

In the final moments of my life, as I repeatedly dialed my wife's number with the little strength I had left, all I heard was the cold and mechanical voice, saying that the line was unreachable.

Perhaps she was annoyed by my calls, and my wife finally blacklisted me.

Taking my last breath, I felt my soul left my body.

I floated in the air, watching as my body was taken away.

Because I had signed up for organ donation, and my heart was immediately matched with a patient who was waiting for surgery.

Until I floated into the operating room, I didn't know that Zoila had been ignoring calls all along because she was accompanying her good brother Ray for a matching surgery, and it was astonishing that he was using my heart.

I was floating next to her, watching as she blacklisted my phone number and carefully read through the post-operative instructions.

I couldn't help but smile bitterly. It turned out that the little girl I once held in high regard, who had never experienced any setbacks, could also love someone so wholeheartedly.

It was just that person she loved was not me.

2

The encounter between me and Zoila was like a destined plot in a novel.