After I Died, My Boyfriend Destroyed My Body with His Hands

To take the fall for his first love, my husband killed me with his hands.

Before this happened, I once asked him, "Is it only when I'm dead that you'll spare me a glance?"

He replied, "Even if you were gone, I wouldn't spare you a glance."

However, after he learned the truth, he painstakingly dug my remains mixed with dirt, from the earth, until his nails were torn and bleeding.

At that moment, he trembled and said, "Ariella, don't be afraid. I'm here to make amends."

1

It was our third wedding anniversary.

I had prepared a romantic candlelit dinner.

At ten in the evening, I received a call from Jordy Hudson, my husband, "Margret's daughter is having a birthday. I won't be coming back."

I remained silent for a long time.

Margret Steinfeld was his first love. Before she appeared, I thought his indifference was just his nature.

Only later did I realize he would care for someone.

He would bring her an umbrella on rainy days, buy her expensive gifts, and take her and her daughter to amusement parks.

On Christmas Eve, he left me at home with a high fever because of a single word from her.

But his care never extended to me.

"If you don't come back tonight, let's get a divorce." My tone was indifferent.

I didn't know why, but this time I didn't want to avoid it anymore. I didn't want to stay silent. I wanted to fight back.

I thought he would argue with me, but he hesitated for just two seconds before saying, "Alright."

Then he hung up, not giving me a chance to respond.

Perhaps he had long wanted a divorce. After all, the person he held in his heart was never me.

I took out the divorce papers I had prepared, signed them, and left the house.

Little did I know, as soon as I stepped out, I was knocked unconscious by two men and stuffed into a black van.

When I woke up, I was in an abandoned factory, with no sign of the kidnappers.

"She's been caught. What should we do?"

I became alert. The rough voice came from downstairs, and the footsteps were getting closer. "Kill her? Sure, but the price doubles."

I opened my eyes wide, filled with terror and unease.

I quit my job to be a housewife and take care of Jordy because he wanted me to.

I always strived to live peacefully without offending anyone. Who wanted me dead?

The footsteps grew nearer.

I didn't have time to think. I took out a spare phone from my pocket.

Leaning against the wall, I stood up. Although my hands were tied, at least my fingers could move.

I hid in the corner and dialed an emergency contact number.

"What is it?"

"Jordy, I've been kidnapped. Please save me! I'm currently... "

Before I could finish, he interrupted, "What are you up to? You know I hate it when you act like this."

I wanted to argue, but I inadvertently heard a girl's soft breathing on the other end.

The words stuck in my throat, and I swallowed them back. I pleaded humbly, choking back tears, "I'm not joking. I've been kidnapped. Please believe me this time. Please save me. I don't want to die... "

He sounded like a spectator watching a play, devoid of emotion. "Your acting is good, but I hate your exaggerated play."

Then the phone was hung up.

The sound of the call being disconnected echoed through the factory, like a countdown to my life's end.

At the same time, the kidnappers appeared behind me.

I didn't even have time to scream before darkness engulfed me.

I had thought that when he returned home and saw the divorce papers, he might try to keep me, or at least have some reactions.

But unfortunately, I would never know.

2

Jordy and I met through a blind date.

He didn't know me, but I had long held a deep admiration for him.

He was the esteemed attorney, Mr. Hudson, but I was just a small intern at his firm.

Being able to date and then get married to him was the luckiest thing in my life.

He was always indifferent to me. I thought it was just his cold nature.

Then his first love, Margret, returned from abroad with her daughter, and I saw a completely different side of him. He became even colder towards me.

I could clearly feel that his heart no longer had room for me.

When Jordy finally came home one day, he just changed his clothes and was about to leave.

I grabbed his hand and stripped off my clothes myself.

I was terrified and deeply humiliated.

But he hadn't touched me for a long time. If I let him go, I feared I would never win back his heart.

Seeing me like this, his eyes darkened, "I have something urgent."

His so-called urgency was just that woman catching a cold.

I tightly held his hand to my chest, but he shook it off as if he had touched something dirty, "Don't disgust me."

As he opened the door, I cried out, "Jordy! Is it only when I'm dead that you'll spare me a glance?"

He lowered his eyes, full of disdain, "Even if you were gone, I wouldn't spare you a second glance."

I knew he always hated me being pretentious.

And I was used to being humble in front of him. It took all my courage, but it was all for nothing.

I crouched down, hugging myself, letting the tears fall.

When I snapped out of my memories, my soul was already floating in the air.

The first person I saw when I opened my eyes was the Margret I had known for a long time!!

How could it be her?

I was puzzled. I had never seen her in person, nor had I ever interacted with her directly.

Why was she here?

I watched as she handed a wad of cash to the thug, "Thanks for your hard work. I'll take it from here."

The thug grinned lecherously, "Call me anytime for such good jobs. This chick was really tasty! I couldn't sleep all night, mesmerized by her body!"

I clenched my fists. I never imagined that even in death, I would suffer such humiliation!

I glared at Margret with hatred.

I had never seen her in person, but I had looked at her photos countless times in the dead of night.

She was beautiful, the kind of beauty I could never match. No wonder Jordy liked her so much.

But I never thought she would be so vicious!

She placed a burning charcoal on my body, leaving no part of my skin unscathed.

My body was disheveled, and her gaze was full of contempt.

I didn't understand. I posed no threat to her. Why did she want to kill me?

If anyone should hate, it should be me hating her!

I lashed out in vain, unable to make contact.

I gave up...

Looking around, I noticed her daughter sleeping soundly on the floor nearby.

It was almost evening, Jordy called her, "Margret, where did you go?"

It was the first time I heard Jordy speak so gently.

Margret's voice trembled, "Jordy, my daughter was kidnapped. The kidnapper asked me to bring the ransom. I was too anxious to tell you, but now... I accidentally killed the kidnapper. What should I do?"

Jordy immediately calmed down, "Don't be afraid. Tell me where you are, and I'll handle it!"

In less than ten minutes, Jordy arrived.

Calming down, I realized Margret had planned this all along.

She bet that Jordy would definitely help her...

Jordy looked at the disfigured corpse in front of him with calmness. If he had paid more attention to me, he would have known that the body was mine.

I often wore this outfit, but he rarely came home and never looked at me.

3

He comforted Margret, telling her to leave with her daughter, "Make sure no one sees you. Go back quietly! I'll take care of this. If anything happens, it won't be your fault, understand?"

Margret's tears hung on her lashes, evoking sympathy, "Okay, I understand."

After Margret and her daughter left, I stayed by Jordy's side.

He carried my body into the mountains and dug a two-meter pit.

Just as he was about to sever my fingers, he noticed my index finger twitch.

It was my last attempt to touch his cheek, to remember his face.

Without hesitation, he cut off all ten of my fingers and threw my body into the pit, then shoveled hard on my body.

Although I was just a soul, I felt a pain that pierced my soul, indescribable in words.

He shoveled all night, and I lost count of how many times he struck. I only knew that my body had become a heap of broken remains.

I wondered, if he knew this heap of flesh was me, would he feel a twinge of regret?

Once, I held onto hope, but now I was merely curious.

Deep down, I knew the answer: he wouldn't.

When it came to anything related to Margret, he would always stand by her side.

The weather turned against me, and it began to rain heavily.

He donned a raincoat and buried me deep in the soil.

Exhaling, he remarked, "This rain is just right, it can cover up the evidence."

Ironically, I was still worried about him catching a cold in the rain.

Later, he took my ten fingers to a farmer's pigsty, leaving them to be devoured by the animals.

Returning to Margret's home, Jordy emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.

With a serious expression, he said, "Pretend nothing happened today. You've been home with your daughter all along, understand?"

Margret nodded obediently.

He had no doubts, and only thought about how to exonerate Margret.

The thunder outside grew louder, and the rain fell harder, waking Margret's daughter, who began to cry.

Jordy gazed out the window, lost in thought, then opened his phone to our chat window.

He knew I was terrified of thunderstorms.

Before Margret came back, I would nestle in his arms during storms, refusing to let go even if he pushed me away.

Even after Margret appeared, I would bombard him with calls or messages during storms.

He never responded, or incredulously asking, "You're in your twenties, how can you be afraid of thunder? Are you a child?"

This was the first time I hadn't disturbed him during a storm, yet he thought of me.

"Jordy, what's wrong?" Margret naturally linked her arm with his, concerned.

Jordy, however, pulled away swiftly, as he once did with me. "Nothing, you and the child should sleep. I'll stay in the living room."

"Don't go, I'm scared. Could you stay with me tonight?" Margret blushed.

"Don't worry, I'm just in the living room." Jordy didn't give Margret a chance to respond, grabbing a pillow and lying on the sofa.

I couldn't understand it. Weren't they always sharing a bed?

4

Jordy tossed and turned on the sofa, repeatedly checking his phone every couple of minutes.

On the chat interface were messages and photos I had sent him.

At 6:30 PM, I sent a picture of a candlelit dinner with a cute emoji: "Happy third anniversary, darling! I prepared a candlelit dinner today!"

At 7:45 PM, I said, "When will you be home, darling? You haven't been back for a long time. Could you come back today?"

At 9:00 PM, I said, "I made your favorite grilled fish."

At 9:49 PM, I said, "I've reheated the food three times, but it doesn't taste as good now."

At 9:55 PM, I said, "Are you coming home tonight?"

No matter how much warmth I offered, it couldn't thaw his cold heart.

I wondered what Jordy thought as he read my messages.

Before I could figure it out, Jordy suddenly got up, dressed quickly, and left Margret's house.

He finally returned to our home.

On the table of cold dishes lay a divorce agreement.

He picked it up, frowning.

He searched every corner of the room, confirming my absence, then collapsed against the wall, overwhelmed by fatigue and despair.

On our chat interface, he typed: "What are you up to?"

But in the end, he didn't send and deleted it.

This wasn't my first time running away.

He knew I was just throwing a tantrum and would eventually return. As the loved one, he always had the confidence.

So, he never reached out, not even once.

He wasn't always like this. When I first noticed him, he treated people gently.

That year, I just graduated and faced rejections everywhere.

I hid in a corner, crying with my head in my hands.

Jordy appeared like an angel, offering me a handkerchief and gently patting my head, "Don't cry. Don't let others laugh at you."

I cried even harder.

Yet, after all these years, I still remembered the unique scent of Jordy's handkerchief.

It was a scent I would never forget.

Later, he forgot about the struggling graduate and never showed his gentle side again.

After I had been missing for 24 hours, no one cared.

My spirit grew more transparent.

My friend Mary invited Jordy to a wedding and casually asked, "Where's Ariella? I haven't been able to reach her these past few days. Did you bully her again?"

Jordy frowned, "She didn't contact you?"

"No, did you two fight again?"

Jordy seemed uneasy, "She's throwing a tantrum, probably ran away again. She'll definitely come to your wedding tomorrow."

The next morning, Jordy dressed meticulously to attend the wedding.

Until Margret called, "Jordy, what should I do? I had a nightmare that the kidnapper came back for revenge. I'm so scared!

Is her soul back? Does she want to drag me to hell?"

Margret's voice was choked with sobs, stirring deep empathy.

Without a second thought, Jordy rushed to her side.

My heart, which wasn't there, felt a sharp pang of loss that engulfed my spirit.

How could I feel such pain without a body?

Yet, this pain was nothing compared to the coldness in my heart.

Ironically, I still harbored a sliver of hope, foolishly imagining he would attend the wedding to find me, to see me one last time.

I had always misunderstood my place, mistakenly believing I would be more important than her, even just a little.

5

Margret sent her daughter to school early.

With her hair down and wearing a white shirt, she looked at Jordy with tearful eyes, evoking sympathy and allure.

She rose and nestled into Jordy's embrace, murmuring, "Jordy, I'm really scared. If not for my daughter, I wouldn't have done such a thing."

Jordy didn't push her away but gently lifted her and laid her on the bed.

Margret seized the opportunity to wrap her arms around his neck, "Please, don't leave me, okay?"

I turned away, knowing they were very close, but witnessing it still made me unbearably sad.

Just then, Jordy's phone rang, and he pulled his head out of Margret's arms.

Mary's voice came through the phone, "Jordy! What's going on with you and Ariella? You're not even coming to my wedding! Ariella hasn't returned my messages for days!"

Jordy frowned, "You mean Ariella didn't attend your wedding?"

"Yeah! Ariella always contacted me when she ran away before, but this time she's completely out of touch!"

Just then Jordy's phone screen displayed an incoming call from an unknown number.

Without hesitation, he hung up on Mary and answered the unknown call, "Is this Mr. Hudson, Ariella's husband?"

Jordy heard a man's voice and immediately felt a sense of hostility, "Who are you?"