My Husband Came Back from the Dead

Kelvin's face turned cold. "You've gone too far!"

I immediately teared up. “Are you just going to watch them insult your sister-in-law like this? How can you face your dead brother Kelvin?"

Kelvin's friends never liked me. They thought I was stuck-up because I didn't hang out with them.

At first, I did try joining them for meals, but they would smoke, drink, and crudely judge women at the table, making vulgar comments.

I couldn't stand it and stepped out for some air. When I returned, I overheard them deliberately accusing me of being fake and pretentious.

Especially that William—he always looked at me with obvious lust. Once, when Kelvin wasn't around, he even tried to touch me.

After I told Kelvin, he apologized sincerely and explained that his friends weren't well-educated but were loyal at heart.

After we married, I forced myself to maintain a superficial relationship with these people. Now that Kelvin was "dead," our relationship deteriorated back to how awful it was initially.

Birds of a feather flock together—I suddenly realized that perhaps Kelvin had been a terrible person all along.

To prevent things from escalating, Kelvin had no choice but to pay me back.

"Hannah, your stingy behavior is disgusting! No wonder my brother would rather die than stay with you!"

I almost laughed. Did he think Kelvin was still my weakness?

In the past, I couldn't bear hearing that Kelvin didn't like me—the foolishness of young love.

Now I just found those words revolting.

"Bad luck to speak of the dead," I said. Kelvin froze, shocked that I would refer to him as dead.

"You..."

He sensed something different about me and felt uneasy. When he turned to look at me again, William and the others pulled him away.

After leaving the hospital, I went straight home. My first task was changing the locks.

"Hannah? You came back alone? Where's the baby?" My neighbor looked at me in surprise.

I forced a smile. "The baby's father died. My child is still in the hospital. I need to sell this apartment to cover the medical bills. It's not good to keep a dead man's things. I need to clear everything out."

The neighbor's expression immediately turned sympathetic, and she rolled up her sleeves to help.

Though still weak, I had already called a moving company. They took everything I'd prepared for the baby. The rest—whether Kelvin's or things we bought together—I threw away.

"It's good to get rid of it all. Don't dwell on these sad things. Focus on raising your child—that's what matters!"

The neighbor walked me downstairs.

I left the keys and property deed with a real estate agent, asking them to sell the apartment as quickly as possible.

This apartment was bought by my parents. After graduation, Kelvin had moved in without hesitation, as if entitled to it.

Thinking about how he had asked me to move out earlier made me want to laugh. He must have forgotten this was my apartment all along.

Or perhaps he simply wanted to claim my property as his own.

The apartment was in a great location with a good layout. It sold within three days for 100,000 dollars above the asking price.

Looking at the cash in hand, I was quite satisfied.

I moved all my baby's things to a postpartum care center and paid for three months.