After I Died, He Found 99 Substitutes

Synopsis

The door was thrown open with a hard shove, and before a single silhouette stepped across the threshold, a string of girlish giggles rushed in ahead of them. Someone told Richard to turn on the lights. Richard answered without much thought and fumbled for the switch. I had lost count of how many of his companions he'd brought home. And I didn't know what I did wrong in life, that after death I was reduced to hovering at Richard's side, watching him bring new women through our door. I watched him return again and again with a new face, moving from shock to fury to a dull ache, then to numbness. Now it had been three years. All the women Richard brought back had faces that resembled mine. He never let the substitutes speak. A sound would make them different, and then they would not be mine. He never allowed them to stay overnight, either; this was our marital room, after all. We never had a day as husband and wife. The woman in front of me clicked her high heels on the rug I had bought. I raised an eyebrow; I expected Richard to erupt. But to my surprise, he simply bent to remove her shoes, then gathered her in his arms at the waist and gently set her down on the bed. I saw her face clearly, and at one look I was stunned. This woman did not look like me at all.