Chapter 3

Instead of panicking, Serena actually scoffed.

She turned to Tyler with an eye-roll. "See? What did I tell you? Another pathetic stunt."

She brought the phone back to her ear, her tone dripping with annoyance:

"Mark, I know Austin is your golden goose, but after pulling a stunt like this, you really don't need to help him lie for attention."

The owner's voice cracked. "Serena, listen to me! The police just recovered Austin's body! You need to come down to the station right now!"

His grief and urgency were real. He was begging her to understand that I was actually dead.

Serena simply laughed, cold and dismissive.

"Unbelievable. Now you're dragging the cops into it?"

"Do me a favor, Mark. Tell Austin to stop playing the victim. It's childish."

She hung up without waiting for an answer, then tapped open our chat history on Snapchat.

The thread was filled with messages from me.

I had texted her constantly: asking if she was tired, buying her clothes, making sure she ate lunch...

Every message was loaded with care and worry for her well-being.

Her replies, on the other hand, were painfully dry. Just "k," "fine," "busy." Whenever I brought up something about my own life, she didn't even bother to respond.

She didn't think twice about it now. Frowning, she put on an act of righteous fury and sent me a voice message:

"You're a coward, Austin! If you'd lost in the ring, I wouldn't have blamed you! But skipping the match? I'm completely disgusted by you!"

"The second you drag yourself home, we're getting a divorce. I refuse to be married to a spineless piece of trash!"

Seeing the word *coward* on the screen turned my blood to ice.

Across my back ran three massive, jagged scars.

Scars I got saving Serena's life.

Years ago, she had been walking home alone at night when four creeps cornered her in an alley.

I happened to be driving by to pick her up. Seeing her trapped, my vision went red. I didn't care if they had weapons; I threw myself into the fight.

Four on one. I took brutal hits, but my only thought was getting between them and Serena.

I managed to knock three of them flat and pulled Serena into my arms to shield her.

The fourth guy scrambled up behind me, pulled a machete, and slashed me across the back three times.

With my reflexes, I could have dodged it easily.

Serena was in my arms. If I moved, the blade would have split her skull.

I took every blow so she wouldn't suffer a scratch.

After knocking the last guy cold, the adrenaline wore off.

Massive blood loss and sheer agony dropped me to my knees. I blacked out on the asphalt.

When I woke up in the hospital ICU, Serena was clutching my bruised hand, crying her eyes out.

I whispered through cracked lips, "Was I brave?"

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed, "Austin, you idiot... you're the bravest man on earth."

From that day on, I never hid those scars. I wore them with pride.

They were my medals of honor. Her love was my greatest reward.

And now? Serena was holding another man's hand, sneering that I was a coward.

Even as a ghost, those scars throbbed with excruciating pain, as if blood was tearing through my flesh all over again.

Rage and sorrow shredded my soul.

My spectral tears vanished before hitting the floor. I wanted to scream in her face:

*You killed me! How dare you call me a coward?!*

The agony was so suffocating I wished I could vanish into thin air.