My father stood there, dejected, before slowly sinking to the ground. He buried his face in his hands, weeping quietly.
This once proud and powerful CEO, who had commanded respect and admiration, was now reduced to a pitiful figure sitting on the doorstep, like a child who had just lost his most cherished possession, or someone who had done something terribly wrong.
I instinctively reached out to help him up, but then reality hit me like a truck. I was already dead.
At first, I was confused.
How could the man I had loved for eight years turn into this cold, heartless stranger overnight?
But the truth soon dawned on me. Ethan had always been like this.
For eight long years, he had stayed by my side, pretending to be the loving, devoted husband while secretly harboring a deep-seated hatred for my entire family. He had been patiently waiting, biding his time, all the while enjoying the privileges and comforts that came with being associated with us.
Fury surged through me as I clenched my fists, and I didn't even feel the resistance as I phased through the door, drifting into what was once my home.
"Ethan, do you think it's really okay to leave Hannah's father sitting out there like that? Shouldn't we at least let him in? He's old, after all," Sabrina cooed, her voice sickeningly sweet as she stroked her swollen belly.
Ethan pulled her into his arms, his voice dripping with false tenderness. "You're too kind for your own good. You're carrying our baby, and you want to bring that old man inside? How would you get any rest?"
Then, with a sly grin, he leaned in and kissed her. "How about we..."
"No, no, we can't! The baby knows everything."
Sabrina giggled, pushing him away playfully before darting into the bedroom.
I felt bile rise in my throat.
Before I could even float into the bedroom after them, the unmistakable sounds of their lovemaking filled the air.
They were doing it on my bed.
The sheets hadn't even been changed, and my silk nightgown was still draped over the bedpost, a cruel reminder of the life I once had.
"Ethan Collins, you deserve to rot in hell!" I seethed, the rage boiling inside me.
I opened my mouth wide, imagining the pleasure of tearing them apart in the midst of their twisted, disgusting pleasure.
But my fury wasn't strong enough.
Only vengeful spirits with a deep well of hatred could take lives directly.