My "Dead" Husband Begs for Forgiveness, But the CEO Claims Me
807 Views · Ongoing · Daisy Swift
Seven years ago, the yacht explosion I suggested took the lives of my husband and my best friend. That same day, my premature baby's heart stopped beating in the incubator. For seven years, I locked myself in a hell of guilt and self-destruction, attempting to end my life hundreds of times. Until today. In the hospital, I ran into my "dead" husband gently protecting my best friend, holding a seven-year-old boy in his arms. They weren't just alive; they had become a happy family of three. More absurdly, my parents were standing right beside them, their faces full of affection. It turned out that hell wasn't the afterlife. It was the world I was living in right now.

















































