He Let His First Love Live My Life, So I Made My Death Final

I run a company that carries out last wishes, finishing the final wish a dead person leaves behind.

I built it because of one thing my husband, Adrian Prescott, once said: the greatest regret of his life was that he never got to fulfill his own father's last wish.

In seven years of running it, this company has cost me everything. Heirs cut out of their inheritance had me kidnapped and thrown into the sea. I've been targeted, framed, and I lost three children, one after another.

Every single time, it was Adrian who dragged me back from the brink.

I always believed the two of us understood better than anyone what regret really meant.

Until the day of our wedding anniversary, when I found my own name on the company's list of deceased clients.

"I, Yvonne Carrigan, voluntarily surrender all company shares, the core database, and all marital assets, to be taken over in full by Adrian Prescott."

Time of death: September seventeenth.

Today was the tenth.

Seven days until my "death."

I assumed the system had glitched, and I was about to delete the entry when Adrian walked in with Cecily Sutton.

She was wearing my company uniform, my founder's nameplate pinned to her chest.

"Yvonne, please don't misunderstand. The doctors say I might not make it past this month. Before I die, I just want to experience your life for once."

Cecily again.

For seven years, all she had to do was say, "This is my last wish," and Adrian would ask me to step back.

This time was no different. He stood there, frowning at me.

"She's dying. What's the harm in letting her have this?"

I found myself smiling.

It wasn't only my work Cecily wanted to experience.

She had lived in my house, worn my wedding ring, wanted to take over my company, and now she even wanted to know what it felt like to have my husband.

And Adrian had said yes to all of it.

But he had forgotten one thing.

I built this company with my own hands, and every person registered as deceased holds one final right of confirmation.

Once the individual confirms their own death, all last-wish authorizations are sealed permanently. No heir has any power to take them over.

I looked at the screen and pressed confirm.

"Death program initiated. In seven days, all authorizations will terminate permanently."

The next morning, Adrian kissed my forehead like always.

"Once Cecily finishes her last wish, we'll start over."

I smiled and nodded.

"All right."

He didn't know that in seven days, the wife he'd registered as dead with his own hand really wasn't coming back.

The next morning, Adrian carried breakfast over to me as though nothing had happened.

"I warmed the milk. Your medicine's here too."

He finished and bent to kiss my forehead, the gesture easy and unthinking.

As if the man who had written "September seventeenth" beside my name on the list of deceased clients last night wasn't him.

I looked up at him. "Adrian."

"Hmm?"

"If one day I really did die, what would you do?"

His hands paused, then he frowned. "What kind of talk is that?"

"Just asking."

He looked at me, plainly impatient. "That was only a system test last night. I already explained it."

"So my electronic signature was part of the test too?"

His face darkened. "The tech department pulled up your old signature template on short notice. I'll deal with it."

I kept my eyes on him. "I want to know why you're in such a hurry to have me dead."

The air went quiet for a few seconds, and his face dropped all at once.

"Yvonne, don't put it so ugly. Cecily just wants a few days to experience your work before her surgery. I moved your access over to her temporarily and used the system to handle the transition. That's all."

So he admitted it at last.

My fingers tightened slowly against the side of the cup. "So you faked my death to clear a spot for her?"

"It's only seven days. After her surgery, everything goes back the way it was."

Adrian rubbed at his temples. "You know perfectly well she's in poor health. Why do you have to keep hammering at some procedural detail?"

I almost laughed. "Procedural detail? My death certificate, my shares, my database, my marital assets, all of it written in there, and to you that's just a procedural detail?"

His expression turned unpleasant. "None of that actually goes to her in the end. I'm just letting her experience it."

Experience again.

I looked at this man in front of me, and I thought of what Cecily had said standing in my office the night before.

She just wanted to experience my life once before she died.

And Adrian was actually making it happen for her, piece by piece.

I asked, "And her experiencing my house?"

"Just a few days."

"The wedding ring? Her experiencing being Mrs. Prescott?"

He was getting irritated. "She's dying. Why do you insist on squaring off against a sick woman?"

That line dropped, and I had nothing left to say.

So the answer had always been the same.

As long as Cecily was dying, she could have anything she wanted.

And because I was alive, I would always be the one expected to give way.

He was about to say something when his phone rang, Cecily's name on the screen.

Adrian answered almost instantly.

"Cecily?"

I couldn't hear what she said, but his face changed fast. "Don't panic, I'm coming right now."

He hung up and grabbed his coat.

"The company has a last wish today, and she wants to carry it out herself."

I glanced at him. "Which one?"

"The eighteenth-birthday coming-of-age for Ms. Linden's daughter."

My hands stopped. "Not that one."

"Why?"

"The deceased named me as the executor."

Adrian had already reached the door. He turned back at those words. "It's just delivering a letter. What difference does it make who does it?"

I looked at him. "Say that again."

He clearly knew the moment the words left him that they were wrong, but he didn't take them back.

"Cecily has been preparing for a long time. Yvonne, don't let her down."

With that, he turned and walked out.

I stood there a few seconds, then picked up my bag.

Half an hour later, I reached the company.

The doors of the execution hall had barely swung open when I saw Cecily standing up on the platform, smiling.

She wore my company uniform, my founder's nameplate pinned to her chest, and in her hands was the letter I had kept safe for the deceased for seven years.

Two cameras stood beside her, livestreaming.

I walked straight over. "Shut it down."

The staff froze and instinctively looked to Cecily.

She seemed not to have expected me to come at all, and her grip on the letter tightened.

"Yvonne, it's already started."

"I said shut it down."

I went over and reached out to kill the camera nearest me. Half the stream went black. The other camera was still running.

Adrian came rushing up from behind and clamped a hand around my wrist. "Yvonne."

I turned to look at him. "Let go."

He didn't move. "Cecily only wants to finish this last wish."

"This wish names me."

"It's just a letter."

I stared at him. He'd said the exact same thing before he left the house this morning.

Anyone can deliver it. It's just a letter.

As if a dead person's final words, once they reached Cecily, could be rewritten however she pleased.

I pulled my hand out of his grip. The client wrote it into her instructions. I'm the only one allowed to hand this to her daughter, in person.

Cecily's eyes were already rimmed red, her voice shaking. Yvonne, I know you don't want me touching your clients, but I really didn't mean anything by it. The doctors said this surgery is high-risk. I don't know if I'll even make it back. I just wanted to see one last wish all the way through before I go under.

She'd barely finished when a sharp crack came from the floor below.

A wooden box had hit the ground, and the eighteen-year-old girl was on her feet.

Is anyone here actually listening to me?

Her eyes were red raw. I don't want a livestream! I don't want strangers watching me read the letter my mom wrote to me!

The camera beside her was still rolling, and the chat in the stream had already started flooding.

The crew finally caught up and scrambled to shut everything off.

But the girl was already crying. She snatched the letter off the floor, turned, and headed for the door.

Cecily took two steps after her. Wait, please. I only wanted to put your mother's love into your hands.

The girl spun around. Whether my mom loved me is none of your business. She's dead. That doesn't mean her things are here for you to move yourself to tears with.

Cecily stood frozen, the color draining from her face.

Her mouth opened, still trying to explain, but the girl wiped her eyes and cut in. And another thing. You're not the person my mom named. She wanted to see Yvonne Carrigan. Who are you to take her place?

That last line landed, and the crew's expressions shifted.

Cecily stayed rooted where she stood, her eyes flooding fast. I wasn't trying to take anything from Yvonne. I only

Enough.

Adrian came up from behind, stepped to Cecily's side, and eased her half a step back behind him.

The movement was effortless, effortless in the way of something done countless times.

Swapping the executor this time was a company decision. It has nothing to do with Cecily.

The girl looked at him. But she started a livestream.

She meant no harm.

Adrian softened his tone. Your mother spent eighteen years preparing this gift for you. She only thought the feeling behind it was precious and wanted to keep a record of it for you.

The tears spilled over again, this time out of fury.

So I'm supposed to thank her too?

Adrian's brow drew together.

I walked over. Adrian.

He turned to look at me.

I switched off the other camera that was still running. Stop talking. What you should be doing right now is apologizing.

Cecily lowered her head, tears dropping onto the back of her hand.

Adrian was plainly displeased. It's Cecily's first execution. She doesn't know the procedures yet. If there's a problem, we deal with it back at the company.

As he spoke, he put out a hand to block the crew member still filming beside them, tucking Cecily fully behind him.

I watched him do it, and for a moment the room seemed to blur.

Years ago, something like this had happened too.

Back then the company had only just started, and it was my first solo execution of a last wish.

The client had asked me to donate part of his estate to a child who wasn't related to him by blood at all.

When the family found out, they stormed the office and screamed at me on the spot, calling me a con artist, saying I'd teamed up with an outsider to swallow the inheritance.

The dead man's eldest brother even raised a hand to hit me.

The slap never landed on me. Adrian stepped in front, and it came down full force across his face.

His lip split and bled.

I was terrified, tugging at him, asking if it hurt.

He didn't even wipe it away. He just moved me behind him.

She's carrying out the deceased's wishes. If you have a problem, take it up with me.

Back then I wasn't as good at handling these things as I am now. Facing an out-of-control family for the first time, my hands had gone cold.

Adrian stayed in front of me the whole time.

Later the family took it to the police station, and he stayed up the entire night with me.

On the way home before dawn, I asked him.

What if I really did get it wrong?

He held my hand.

Then we talk about it once we're home. Out here, I'm on your side first.

I held onto that line for years.

That was why, no matter how much danger came later, I never once thought of giving up this company.

I'd always believed that if I turned around, Adrian would still be there.

But now, in that same spot.

He was still tucking someone behind him out of habit. It just wasn't me anymore.

Yvonne, Cecily isn't well. Don't stand here provoking her

Adrian called out to me.

I came back to myself as he pressed on, frowning. All your client left was a letter and a few birthday gifts. Cecily just delivered them a different way. Nothing's missing, the letter wasn't lost. When you get down to it, these things aren't worth much anyway. There's no need to blow it all up like this over a few odds and ends a dead woman left behind.

Slap!

I slapped him across the face.

The sound cracked loud, and the whole execution hall went silent in an instant.

Cecily cried out. "Adrian!"

She rushed over to hold him up.

The staff around us froze in place. No one dared to speak.

Adrian turned his face slowly, his left cheek already red, and stared at me without a word.

The girl ran out of the hall in tears. I didn't look at either of them. I went to my office.

Half an hour later, the girl's father arrived at the company with his lawyer.

A commission that was supposed to run seven years was terminated on the spot.

He asked me only one thing.

"Ms. Carrigan, you gave my wife your word that this letter would never become anyone's gossip. What is this now?"

I didn't explain. I only said one thing.

"We breached the contract. The company takes full responsibility."

After they left, Cecily sat beside Adrian, the tears never stopping.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't know she'd mind this much."

Adrian handed her a tissue.

"It's your first time. Of course you didn't understand."

I raised my eyes and looked over.

The confidentiality level of this wish, the designated executor, the family's authorizationall of it was written on the first page of the file.

She didn't even need to understand it. She only needed to read it.

Adrian turned to me. "Handle this first."

I didn't move. "Handle it how?"

"Contact the family, apologize, compensate them, get the video taken down."

I opened my laptop and pushed a document toward him. "This morning, after the executor was changed, I already withdrew my personal guarantee authorization."

Adrian's face changed.

"You withdrew it?"

"Mm."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"When you changed the executor, you didn't consult me either."

He stared at me. "Yvonne, this isn't the time to throw a tantrum."

"I'm not throwing one."

I turned the laptop toward him. "Executor, Cecily Sutton. Approver, Adrian Prescott. Compensation or apology, you two handle it yourselves."

Cecily bit her lip. "Yvonne, did you already know something would go wrong?"

I looked at her. "I said this morning this commission couldn't go to you. You didn't listen. Now something's gone wrong and you're asking me why I didn't stop it."

She had nothing to say to that.

Adrian's face darkened completely. "What is wrong with you lately? You've been snide since yesterday."

I gave a small laugh. "Maybe I'm dying soon."

The muscle at his brow jumped hard. "Yvonne."

I didn't answer him. I picked up my things and left. The moment I stepped out of the conference room, my lower belly clenched.

I braced a hand against the wall and stood there for two seconds.

The feeling was too familiar. So familiar I didn't dare look down.

Not until I got to the bathroom and saw that trace of blood did the cold sink through my palms.

I made myself go to the hospital. When the results came back, the doctor handed me the report.

"Six weeks pregnant."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The doctor flipped through my chart again.

"But it's not stable. Three prior miscarriages, and this time there are already signs of a threatened miscarriage. You need to rest from now on, avoid overexertion as much as possible, and no major emotional swings."

I looked down at the ultrasound slip.

A fourth child. Adrian's and mine. The fourth.

My phone rang then. It was Adrian.

I stared at the screen for a long time, then answered anyway.

"Where are you?"

"The hospital."

The line went quiet for a moment. "What's wrong?"

I opened my mouth. "Adrian, I"

"Cecily, don't touch that."

His voice broke off suddenly on his end, then came a rush of footsteps.

A few seconds later, he came back to me. "What did you just say?"

I looked down at the report. "Nothing."

"Do you still have that wedding gown?"

My fingers stilled. "What?"

"Cecily wants to do a wedding-photo shoot. The doctor says her surgery is very high-risk, and she's afraid she won't get another chance to wear one."

I said nothing.

He added, "Just for one day."

I suddenly remembered what I'd asked him that morning.

He'd said back then there would never be a wish like that.

And not even a day later, she was already wearing my wedding gown.

That gown was no ordinary gown.

The year we married, Adrian brought in a designer from overseas and reworked it through more than a dozen versions.

He chose the embroidery himself. The band of pearls at the waist, he picked out one by one, at my side.

At the last fitting, he stood behind the mirror and looked at me for a long time.

I asked him if it looked good.

He said it didn't.

I was so annoyed I started to take it off, but he wrapped his arms around me from behind and laughed under his breath.

"It's not the gown that looks good. My wife looks good in anything."

The night before the wedding, some woman slipped it on while I was away and took a few photos.

When Adrian found out, he had it stripped off her right then and there.

The next day, the company her father had run for over twenty years lost its funding, every partner canceled their contracts at once, and even the family's emigration paperwork was forced to a halt.

The woman knelt outside the hotel and cried all night, begging.

I thought it was too much and told him to let it go.

Adrian only said one thing. "She touched something she shouldn't have."

Afterward the gown was sent overseas to be remade, and the original one was destroyed.

He said he wouldn't have me wearing something someone else had worn.

But now he was asking me, in his own voice, where the gown wasonly because Cecily wanted to wear it.

"Why does it have to be mine?"

"She likes it."

"And you think that's fine?"

Adrian went quiet. "Yvonne, don't make an issue of it right now. She may not have long to live."

I laughed. "Back of the walk-in closet."

The relief in his voice was obvious. "I'll come pick you up tonight."

"Don't bother."

I dropped my hand to my stomach and rubbed it. "You don't need to return the gown either."

"Yvonne Carrigan."

His tone dropped cold. "Don't say things you don't mean."

I hung up. The ultrasound photo I'd meant to send him, I deleted along with the call.

The doctor recommended I be admitted. I refused.

By the time I got home, it was already dark, and every light in the living room was on.

A freshly printed photo leaned against the wall. Cecily in my wedding gown, Adrian standing beside her.

He'd probably only changed into a suit to cooperate with the photographer, but the photo came out looking exactly like a wedding portrait.

Cecily heard me and shot up off the couch. "Yvonne."

I saw the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.

My steps stopped.

She followed my gaze and hurried to pull it off. "The photographer said a bridal shot looks strange without a ring, so I just borrowed it for a bit."

I didn't argue. "It's yours."

Cecily froze.

Adrian came out of the kitchen too. "What did you say?"

"The ring. She can keep it."

His face went dark. "You can't just give away a wedding ring."

I looked at him.

"Wasn't it only for a bit? I said borrow. Well, now there's no need to borrow. I don't want it anymore."

He crossed over and grabbed my hand. "Yvonne, are you done? A nameplate, a gown, a ring. Do you have to turn every single thing into an ugly scene?"

I looked at him. "What scene am I making? I gave you all of it, didn't I?"

That stopped him.

Cecily's tears spilled over.

"It's all my fault. Adrian, don't fight with Yvonne."

She pushed the ring into my hand.

"I don't want it." I pulled away.

The motion was too fast, and pain twisted through my stomach again.

I frowned, and Adrian caught it.

His eyes dropped to my wrist, where the hospital band was still on. "You really did go to the hospital today?"

I made a small sound.

"What's wrong, exactly?" His tone changed at once.

For a moment, I really did want to take out the report.

When the first three babies were lost, he'd grieved too.

The first miscarriage, he stayed with me at the hospital the whole night.

The second, he watched over me for three days.

The third time we couldn't save the baby, he didn't bring up children again for a long time.

I even thought, maybe this time would be different.

My hand had just touched the test results in my bag when a dull thud came from behind me.

Cecily had collapsed to the floor.

"Cecily!"

Adrian let go of me almost instantly and turned to lift her up.

She curled into his chest, her face pale.

"Adrian, my chest hurts."

Adrian carried her straight for the door.

He only turned back at the threshold. "What were you about to tell me just now?"

My hand was still in my bag.

"Nothing."

"And the hospital?"

"Same old problem."

The relief was plain on his face. "Remember to take your medicine. I'm taking Cecily to the hospital. I'll be back late."

The door shut fast.

I stood there. It was a while before I took out the test results, folded them, and tucked them into the deepest corner of my suitcase.

Never mind. I wouldn't say it. I started packing.

Documents, bank cards, laptop, and three small boxes.

Each held the ultrasound scans left behind by the first three babies.

I put today's in with them. The fourth. It filled the box perfectly.

My phone lit up.

A system alert. Five days until the death program was complete.

I looked at it for a few seconds, then turned off the screen.

The next afternoon, an internal review kicked off at the company over the livestream incident.

Before I left, I needed to hand off permissions on a few key projects, and while I was at it, I pulled the backend logs.

That was when Cecily's account jumped out at me.

Seven years ago. I stared at the date twice.

It was the day I was first kidnapped. Back then she wasn't even an employee, yet she'd logged into the internal backend.

I opened the record. She'd checked only one thing. My itinerary.

That day I'd changed my route at the last minute, and the new route existed only in the backend.

Ten minutes later, she took a screenshot and sent it to a number. I copied the number out.

When the results came back, my fingers went stiff.

The number belonged to one of the men who had kidnapped me back then.

I sat there for a long time without moving.

Seven years ago, I was ten weeks pregnant.

Because of one estate execution, a few heirs who hadn't gotten their money grabbed me. They tied stones to my feet and pushed me into the sea.

By the time Adrian found me, I was already unconscious.

They saved me, but the baby was gone.

For years I had believed the men had traced my schedule themselves.

They hadn't.

I kept scrolling. That backend record had been deleted once, seven years ago.

The deletion happened three days after I was discharged. The account belonged to Adrian.

I looked at his name, and suddenly my hands weren't even shaking anymore.

Then I restored the original record, and right after that, I stripped Adrian of his backend deletion rights.

Seven years ago, he deleted it once for Cecily.

This time, I wouldn't give him a second chance.

Only when it was done did I close the laptop and go straight to his office.

Cecily was there too, her face still a little pale, and Adrian was handing her medicine.

He saw me and frowned. "What's wrong?"

I set the laptop in front of him. He glanced down, and his expression changed in an instant.

That one look told me everything.

Cecily stood up.

"Yvonne, let me explain, I didn't mean for it to happen."

I didn't look at her. "I'm asking Adrian. When did you find out it was her who sent the kidnappers my route?"

Adrian's brow knotted tight. "Yvonne, Cecily was only nineteen at the time. She didn't know those men would kidnap you."

Cecily was still sniffling. I finally looked at her. "So I nearly died, and my baby died, and it was the two of you."

She cried harder. Adrian moved her behind him.

"It's been seven years. The men who actually took you are already in prison. Cecily didn't do it on purpose."

I laughed. "Then what about my baby?"

He faltered. "The baby's gone, and it hurts me too, but it already happened. What am I supposed to do? Destroy a living person over a child who can't be brought back?"

I looked at him, and suddenly I didn't even want to argue anymore.

Just then a commotion broke out beyond the office, and the next second the door was shoved open.

"Cecily Sutton!" The man was held back at the door by security, but I recognized him at a glance.

One of the four who had kidnapped me seven years ago. Released from prison just last year.

Cecily went white in an instant. "Why are you here?"

The moment the words left her mouth, she froze.

The man laughed. "Weren't you saying you didn't know me? Two hundred grand seven years ago to keep me quiet, and now that the money's spent, you turn around and pretend you never saw my face?"

Adrian's face changed too. "What two hundred grand?"

"There wasn't any!" Cecily denied it almost instantly. "Adrian, he's a kidnapper. He came here to get back at me on purpose!"

Security had the man pinned hard, but he kept shouting.

Cecily was clearly panicking. "That money wasn't for them to kidnap you!"

I was about to speak, but Adrian had already picked up the phone.

"Security, come up."

I looked at him.

The man grew frantic too. "Adrian, you don't dare look into it, do you?"

Adrian's face went cold. "A kidnapper fresh out of prison suddenly shows up here talking about two hundred grand from seven years ago. You think I'd believe that?"

Cecily visibly relaxed, red-eyed as she grabbed his sleeve. "Adrian, I really didn't."

"I know."

Adrian didn't even hesitate. He finished the words and turned to the security guards who'd rushed in. "Take him out."

The man began struggling. "Adrian, you're an idiot! Ask her who told us Yvonne Carrigan's route back then! Ask her who paid us up front!"

Two guards hoisted him up and dragged him toward the door.

I looked at Adrian. "You're not going to check?"

He frowned. "What's worth checking about a man like that? Cecily did something wrong at nineteen, but that doesn't mean anyone can dump every kind of filth on her. I believe her."

Two words, cleaner than every explanation before it.

I laughed.

Cecily still wanted to say something. I had already turned to go.

On the way home, the hospital called once, telling me to come back for a follow-up as soon as possible. I didn't go.

I went first to the house I'd lived in for seven years. Adrian wasn't there.

Still with Cecily, probably.

I dragged down the luggage I'd already packed the night before. This time I didn't hesitate.

Last, I went into the study.

The death program on the computer was still counting down. Four days, twenty-three hours.

I clicked the final confirmation, then set the divorce agreement I'd prepared on the desk.

I'd signed it long ago.

The asset division and share trusteeship on the lawyer's end had all been submitted that afternoon.

I didn't leave Adrian a single word. He understood last wishes better than anyone; he didn't need me to teach him what a final word was.

At two in the morning, I dragged my suitcase downstairs.

The driver was already waiting outside.

As the car pulled out of the courtyard, I didn't look back, but my phone kept ringing.

The first call was the hospital.

The second was Adrian. I didn't answer.

A few minutes later he called again. Still didn't answer.

When it rang the third time, a message from the tech department came in.

"Ms. Carrigan, Mr. Prescott just tried to access the top-level backend. The system flagged him as unauthorized."

The system sent one last alert too: "Client 0963's death program has entered the irreversible stage."

I looked at it for two seconds, then turned the phone off.

I reached the airport just as the boarding announcement came on. I picked up my suitcase and walked through the gate.

Adrian wanted Cecily to live my life.

But he would find out soon enough.

The wife he had registered dead with his own hands had already left first.