After I Died, He Crushed My Remains Chapter 2

I stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. It was only in this exact moment that I realized just how deeply William Schmidt hated me.

He hated me so much that my death was literally a cause for celebration.

But William, I really am dead. You just refuse to believe it.

The car pulled up in front of an elite bridal boutique. William stepped out, striding toward the entrance with purpose.

He looked so eager. It reminded me of the day we had secretly gotten our marriage license, right before he dragged me to a boutique just like this one.

Back then, he couldn't wait to see me in a wedding dress. He had held me so tight, whispering that I was the most beautiful bride in the world.

Now, he was looking at Ivy with that exact same tender, loving gaze. She was standing on the pedestal, wrapped in a stunning white gown.

He gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his voice softer than velvet. "You look beautiful."

Ivy lowered her head with a shy smile. When she looked back up, her eyes were shimmering with happy tears.

"William, I have waited so long for you."

I watched in absolute horror as Ivy leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek.

Every instinct in my soul screamed to stop them.

I lunged forward, but my hands passed right through William's solid chest. I could only stand there, entirely helpless, as he slid a massive diamond ring onto her finger.

How could he do this?

Why Ivy, out of all people?

She was the one who murdered his mother!

William!

I screamed his name, my phantom throat raw and burning with absolute despair.

I watched the rest of the fitting in a state of total numbness.

Ivy stared at herself in the mirror, practically glowing with excitement. Suddenly, she turned to him. "By the way, William. Is she okay?"

We both knew exactly who she was talking about.

William's face went completely blank, laced with a heavy dose of disgust.

"What could possibly be wrong with her? It is just another one of her pathetic little games."

"Should we send her an invitation to our wedding?"

William lowered his eyelashes, hiding the dark emotions swirling in his eyes. A twisted, malicious smirk slowly crept onto his lips.

"Of course we will invite her. She is our guest of honor."

The realization hit me like a freight train. William wanted to force me to watch him get married.

After all, a proper wedding was the one thing I had always dreamed of.

Because his mother had never approved of me, we only ever signed the legal papers. We never had a ceremony. Over the years, having a real wedding had become my ultimate, unattainable fantasy.

And then, his mother died. A massive heart attack that the doctors could not fix.

On the night she died, her very last phone call was to me.

Because of that, William naturally assumed that I had said something to trigger the attack. He fully believed I had killed her.

On the day of her funeral, he dragged me to the cemetery and physically forced me to kneel in front of her gravestone for an entire day and night.

The rain was pouring down in sheets. We stared at each other through the freezing downpour.

His eyes were dead, filled with an apocalyptic level of hatred.

He told me, "From now on, Nora, I will make you wish you were dead."

From that day forward, I went from being the love of his life to his sworn, mortal enemy.

He hated me. He humiliated me. But he flat out refused to let me leave him.

He even started bringing different women home to spend the night.

Whenever he saw my red, tear stained eyes, he would just laugh, lightly slapping my cheek to mock me. "Does it hurt, Nora? You brought every bit of this upon yourself. Who else can you blame?"

I tried so hard to explain the truth, but it only made him worse.

He never once doubted his own conclusion, because he knew exactly how much his mother despised me. She had sworn up and down that she would never let me officially enter the Schmidt family.

William had fought with her constantly over it, nearly severing his ties with his own family just to be with me.

But how could a man accept that the woman he loved had murdered the woman who gave birth to him? He couldn't.

After putting Ivy in a cab, William seemed to suddenly remember I existed.

He generously pulled my number out of his blocked list. Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, he dialed my phone.

A long minute passed. I watched his relaxed eyebrows slowly pull together into a furious scowl.

He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, screaming into the empty car.

"You are asking for a death wish, Nora. How dare you ignore my calls!"

But he had no idea. It wasn't that I was ignoring him.

It was that I could never pick up a phone again.