ผัวแฝดกระแทกแรง [3P] + [PWP] + [NC30+]

The man on the bed didn't react, but my son, Terry Heath, had gotten used to it.

He carefully placed the biscuit next to the pillow, then quickly devoured his share.

He patted his stomach, still hungry.

Terry instinctively glanced at the biscuit no one had eaten, then made his way to the kitchen and drank a large glass of cold water.

My soul floated in the air. As I watched the scene below, my heart ached.

Was this really my son? The one who used to complain about being hungry if dinner was even a little late?

How did he change so much in just three days after I died?

Suddenly, my phone lit up, revealing a family photo as the wallpaper.

In the cozy room, Wendy Lloyd had her arms around me as I lay half-asleep, laughing brightly with Terry for the camera. Their faces had a striking resemblance and bore the same cheerful expression.

That day, I had still been asleep when Wendy and Terry quietly tiptoed into the room.

Wendy whispered, "Terry, Daddy's still sleeping in. Let's go wake him up."

Terry nodded, grinning like a mischievous kitten. "Okay, Mommy."

With a raised brow, Wendy pulled out a delicate feather pen from behind her and gently tickled my nose, one swipe, then another, until I couldn't hold back a sneeze.

Annoyed, I sat up and grabbed a pillow to throw at her. "Wendy!"

She quickly pulled Terry in front of her like a shield. "Terry, help me stop Daddy!"

A chaotic scene followed.

The warm scene in the photo triggered Terry's memories. His eyes lit up as he stared at the feather. "Mommy used to wake Daddy up like this."

He put the phone down and hurried over to the bed. "Daddy, I know how to wake you up now. I'm going to bring the feather back from our old home."

Watching Terry leave confidently, I froze for a moment, then instinctively reached for his shoes on the floor to help him put them on.

But my hand passed right through the air.

Right. I forgot.

I was dead. I couldn't take care of Terry anymore.

After leaving home, I followed Terry to the Lloyd residence.

It was Christmas Eve, so the streets were filled with the sounds of fireworks. The air buzzed with the joy of families reuniting, making it almost overwhelming.

In front of the grand and opulent Lloyd residence, a graceful woman was throwing snowballs in the yard with a six-year-old girl.

The woman's soft voice could be heard from time to time. "Be careful. Don't fall."

Wendy's first love, Hudson Clark, stood nearby, his eyes filled with contentment as he smiled.

What a picture-perfect, happy family.

As Terry watched the scene through the fence, he felt a wave of discomfort wash over him.

Wendy used to have snowball fights with him every Christmas Eve.

He wiped his eyes quickly and stood on his toes to ring the doorbell.

Soon, someone came to open the door. It wasn't Wendy, but Hudson. "What are you doing here?"

The moment he saw Terry, the smile on his face froze, replaced by wariness.