Chapter 1

Before I died, Naomi Dudley ran away with Bryson Lloyd to escape me. She cut all ties with me and moved far away.

As I lay dying in that hospital bed, clinging to my last breaths just to see her one last time, I was still clutching a gift I wanted to give her.

She never showed up. Instead, I got a single line from her over the phone.

She said, "If he's dead, just bury him on the mountain. Why are you calling me?"

When the line went dead, Mom squeezed my hand and cried until she fainted, like a little kid who couldn't find their way home.

And with that, my last shred of hope snapped. I died full of resentment.

Over the years, as I watched Mom's back grow more and more stooped, the obsession in my heart slowly faded.

Just as I realized I didn't care about Naomi anymore, and my spirit began to fade into transparency, she came back.

Her sharp edges were gone. She had become gentle and attentive as she stayed quietly by Bryson's side.

Now that the male lead and female lead no longer had a possessive second male lead crowding them, their love only grew stronger.

I mocked myself. No matter how toxic my possessiveness used to be, I couldn't ruin what they had.

After all, I was just a dead man. What could I possibly do?

The candle smoke drifted and twisted in the wind.

I just stood there quietly, watching them.

When they finished paying their respects to her mother, Bella McNeil, I figured it was time for them to leave. It had been three years. Naomi must have long forgotten the lunatic she hated most.

But after the candle burned down, she lied to Bryson.

Once he took the car keys and walked away, she approached my grave as I looked on in disbelief.

She stood there in total silence for a long time. So long that I thought she was just trying to pick the perfect words to curse me out.

The wind picked up. Tilting her head, she brushed her hand against my headstone and asked, "Kenneth, why haven't you visited my dreams?"

Her voice was so soft, I thought even a ghost could have auditory hallucinations.

Naomi pulled a crumpled milk candy from her bag and set it on my grave.

Then, she turned and walked away.

I stared at that candy for a long time.

"Naomi, I don't like sweets anymore," I thought to myself.

I tried to kick it away, but my toes slid right through it.

I smiled faintly. Feeling a dull ache in my chest, I sat down on the hillside.

The sun was setting, bleeding red across the sky above me. Ghosts didn't have much to do for fun, so I usually spent my time staring blankly at the clouds.

But right now, my eyes were glued to that candy. I didn't think a ghost's heart could ache like this.

But the living Kenneth's heart certainly did.

I decided I was done keeping score of our past. I didn't want Naomi anymore, and I was done running away.

I was going to finish one last thing, and then I would finally cross over.

It was time to end this life.

I followed them down the mountain and got into Naomi's car.

Sitting in the backseat, I just watched her.

As the female lead of this story, she was naturally stunning. I couldn't help but lean in to study her face.

There was a faint scar near her cheekbone. That was the mark left by 17-year-old Naomi when she defied the will of the world to protect me.

This girl, who cared so much about her appearance, was willing to leave a scar on her face just to protect me.

And that was why I had always believed she loved me.

Naomi was very quiet in the car. Her hands were resting on each other.

Suddenly, I noticed a cheap red string around her wrist. Back when she was sick, I had walked up the mountain, bowing at every single step, just to pray for that lucky charm at a shrine.

Back then, she had cried tears of gratitude as she threw her arms around me. She had even shown it off to everyone she met.

Now, she had to hide it away, terrified anyone else might see.

I couldn't help but look at her eyes. Naomi always looked at people with such deep devotion.

Who would have thought she'd turn out to be the coldest one of all?

My chest trembled slightly as I let out a low chuckle, and my eyes grew unexpectedly moist.

Even as a ghost, I was still pathetic.

I had spent three years trying to forget her, yet the second she reappeared, our memories hit me like a tidal wave.

Time hadn't trapped me. I was the one who refused to leave the memories of my youth with Naomi behind.

Outside, the neon lights of the city blurred past. The Maybach sped forward, but my thoughts drifted backward into the wind. Back to a time before Naomi met Bryson and before she had forgotten me.