Chapter 1

To save his first love, my husband, Nixon Shepherd, gave away the bone marrow that could have saved me.

I told him it was my only chance to live.

But he looked at me with disgust. "Stop being dramatic. She actually needs this."

He didn't know I wasn't making it up.

I had leukemia. I was really dying.

*****

After I died, my soul floated over to Nixon.

He stood outside the operating room. Worry was all over his handsome face.

We had been married for seven years. He had always been so cold and distant. I had never seen him look like this.

Now that I was a ghost, my memories were fuzzy. I could not help but wonder who exactly was lying in that operating room.

Right then, the doctor walked out with a smile. "The bone marrow transplant worked. You can see her now."

Nixon's face lit up. He rushed inside without a second thought.

When he saw Rebecca Velez on the bed, his eyes filled with tears. His voice shook with worry. "Rebecca, how do you feel? Does it still hurt?"

"I'm fine now," Rebecca said. She gave him a soft, weak smile. Then she asked, like it was nothing, "How's Madalyn? I heard she's sick too."

Madalyn Sutton was my name.

"Don't talk about that liar when we're happy," Nixon said. His face turned sour. His eyes burned with anger. "She is always causing drama."

When I saw that cold look, I felt a stabbing pain in my heart, though it was not beating anymore.

Then it hit me. I died in the ICU, just down the hall from Nixon.

Right before the end, I was drowning in fear and pain. It wouldn't let me go.

Tubes were everywhere. The doctors kept trying to shock me back to life over and over again.

In those last moments, my mom, her hair all white, sobbed by my bed. Her tired face looked even thinner and more worn out.

Even then, all I could think about was Nixon. The man I had loved for seven years.

My voice was weak and broken, but my mom still heard me whisper his name.

With trembling hands, she grabbed my phone and called Nixon.

The phone rang for so long. Finally, Nixon picked up.

"Madalyn, do you even know Rebecca is in surgery right now?" Nixon snapped. "I have to be with Rebecca. I can't deal with you right now. If you keep acting like this, we're getting a divorce!"

Even as my mind faded, the pain tore through me.

In my last minutes of life, the man I loved was with his first love.

As I slipped away, the man I loved just brushed me off and threatened divorce, as if my life meant nothing to him.

My mom couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Madalyn, I'm so sorry. I never should have made you two get married.

"If Nixon hadn't insisted on taking that bone marrow, you could have lived. It's all my fault."

I wished I could wipe away her tears. I wished I could tell her it wasn't her fault. The real mistake was loving the wrong person. I gave my heart to Nixon, and he crushed it like it was nothing.

In the end, not only did my love get crushed. I lost my life, too.

But I never got the chance. After I died, I became a ghost, stuck by Nixon's side with no way to break free.

By Rebecca's bed, Nixon was complaining about me. "I'm just here taking care of you, and Madalyn has the nerve to get moody and not come home.

"I'm busy enough, and she still has to cause drama. She never cares about what I'm going through!"

I floated in the air and stared at Nixon. "I wasn't causing drama."

I didn't come home before because I was sick. Now, it was because I was dead.

*****

Two weeks later, Rebecca was discharged from the hospital.

Nixon brought her home to make sure she was well taken care of.

Rebecca walked into the room Nixon and I once shared. Her eyes showed a quick flash of victory. But her face stayed soft and innocent like always. She asked gently, "You brought me home. Won't Madalyn be upset?"

"Why bother about her?" Nixon replied. He sounded irritated at the mention of me.

Rebecca's smile curled a little more. A flash of satisfaction showed in her eyes.

Nixon pulled her over to sit. Then he ran into the kitchen to cook for Rebecca.

As I watched him, memories from when we first got married six years ago came flooding back.

"You know, I only married you because my parents forced me. I'm actually in love with someone else." He sat in the chair and looked at me with cold, distant eyes.

I froze for a second and then forced a smile. "I understand."

"I'm swamped with work. I can't stand chores or social gatherings," he went on. He seemed a bit surprised I wasn't upset.

I answered right away, "Don't worry. I'll handle all the housework. You don't have to deal with any social stuff."