After I Die

Five years after our breakup, my ex-girlfriend, Ryann Garcia, became a sought-after jewelry designer, accompanied by a young and accomplished business elite.

Her career flourished, and upon her return to the country, she looked for me frantically just to see my regretful look.

What she didn't know was that I died tragically in an illegal mining factory, trying to earn her tuition for studying abroad.

1

The news of the renowned jewelry designer, Ryann, returning to the country quickly became the focus of major media outlets.

Her claim to fame was a ring called "Dust."

Once released, it sparked widespread discussion.

Such a stunning piece from a designer who was a newcomer with no connections intrigued everyone about the genius behind it and the story it carried.

At that moment, Ryann exuded a cool aloofness. In crowds, she maintained a serene smile, aloof yet irresistibly intriguing.

The reporters all praised Ryann, the talented designer, who became famous at a young age.

But I found it hard to connect the present Ryann with the innocent woman who used to act coquettishly and ask me to carry her on my back.

"What inspired you to create 'Dust'? Is there a special meaning behind the name?"

Reporters eagerly threw questions at her.

With a mocking smile, Ryann faced the cameras and said, word by word, "It's all because of my ex-boyfriend. He taught me that the love I believed in was nothing more than dust to him, utterly worthless."

Well, the ex-boyfriend she despised was me.

I used to be Ryann's ex-boyfriend, and now I was a wandering ghost who had been dead for several years but still lingered in this city.

"She knows how to hold a grudge," I thought, unable to defend myself, only managing a bitter smile.

2

Ryann's words caused an uproar, prompting reporters to delve into our old story.

As the reporters surrounded her, making it impossible to move forward and posing increasingly invasive questions, someone appeared to ease the tense situation.

"These are old stories. Please stop questioning my fiancée." Following the source of the sound, I looked up and saw it was Kaden Fletcher.

Five years ago, he was Ryann's senior and one of her many admirers.

After so many years, had he and Ryann been together?

Kaden wrapped an arm around Ryann's shoulder, shielding her from the encroaching reporters, his gaze filled with tenderness.

No one understood that look better than I did. He really liked her.

Kaden was tall, handsome, and came from a wealthy family. Over the years, he had built his successful career.

Together, he and Ryann made a perfect couple.

Noticing the scarf around Ryann's neck, Kaden frowned, "I've seen you keep that coarse scarf for years. Why wear it now that you're back? Was it a gift from your ex, Alexander Lloyd? Haven't you forgotten him yet?"

"I met the wrong person when I was young, I'm going to throw this scarf now. He is not worthy of me remembering him for so many years."

In the next moment, the scarf I clumsily knitted over two months was tossed into the trash by Ryann, along with my youthful affections.

Although I had mentally prepared myself for Ryann to fall in love with someone else, witnessing this scene still pierced my heart.

"Ryann, the orphanage director, Livia, is sick. Please help her." A voice called out.

I turned to see a woman, worn and haggard from life's struggles.

It was Debby Adams, my childhood friend from the orphanage, and once Ryann's friend.

Ryann glanced over, her gaze cold.

"What? Has Alexander hitched himself to someone influential and forgotten about Livia, who raised him?" Ryann sneered.

Debby looked distressed. "It's not like that, Ryann! Alexander, he..."

Ryann sneered. "If Alexander wants a favor, let him come and ask me himself. What's the point of sending you? That snobbish man, doesn't he even have the courage to see me? Where did the courage to abandon me go?"

Ryann regarded Debby with a superior air.

Hearing her words, my dead heart suddenly felt a beat, and each beat felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

I looked down at my transparent body, smiling self-deprecatingly.

Even in death, I was still so pathetic.

Hearing Ryann's sarcasm, Debby couldn't help but shout, "Ryann! Alexander isn't like that. He loved you so much. You can't say that about him!"

At the mention of love, Ryann's expression shifted slightly, her voice growing colder. "Anyone can claim to love me, but not Alexander. He doesn't deserve it!"

Ryann walked towards the edge of the crowd.

Debby, unwilling to give up, followed but was stopped by security, pleading desperately, "Ryann. I'm begging you, save Livia."

Ryann paused, her voice indifferent. "I might help, but let Alexander come and beg on his knees."

"Alexander is... He..." Debby couldn't bring herself to reveal my death, as she had promised me.

Ryann's face showed mockery.

"Alexander hitched himself to a rich daughter and forgot about you and Livia? Typical. He dismisses those who genuinely love him."

3

I watched as Kaden took Ryann's hand, leading her through the throng of reporters.

It reminded me of years past when I, too, held her hand, running down streets swept by the summer evening breeze.

The person I once couldn't stop worrying about had achieved her dreams, had a successful career, and found a man capable of providing her a stable life.

Without me, she was still doing well.

Originally, knowing she gave up on me should have made me happy and relieved.