Goodbye, Mr. Ex: I've Remarried Mr. Right by Czy Season

Debra jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat.

Juan was nearby, soaking a towel. When he noticed she was awake, he asked, "Do you want something to eat?"

The sight of Juan only deepened her fear. Instinctively, she scooted away from him, a motion he couldn't help but notice. "Did you have a nightmare?" he asked.

It was indeed a nightmare.

In her dream, it felt as if she had been transported to her past life. She had observed everything as a ghost.

When she had seen the gravestone, the pain of dying on the operating table had rushed through her all over again.

"I..."

Juan silenced her with a look, mouthing, "There's a camera."

Debra composed himself and forced a smile. "Yeah, just a bad dream."

"You've got a fever," Juan said, glancing at the thermometer. "101 degrees Fahrenheit. I'm making some oatmeal for you, and the medicine is on the table."

"Okay," Debra replied smoothly.

room, her mind replayed the dream

was a glimpse of events after my death, why did Juan speak of revenge? Could it be that he wasn't the one who removed

from her finger in the morgue suddenly

'Could it be Shelia?'

threw off the covers and made her way

the kitchen, Juan stood in the morning light, stirring a pot of oatmeal. His clumsy movements seemed at odds with his usual composed nature. Debra watched in silence. In her previous life, he had never cooked for her. After all,

"I'll do it."

out of bed? Go

him his phone. "Your phone's

phone and, seeing the numerous missed calls, immediately sensed

over

turned of

heat, and said,

to

it'll

S." t

I'll order takeout," Juan muttered while

at the nearly burnt oatmeal and

a

taste, and it was