Before My Last Breath, I Was Her Reflection

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness.

But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more.

I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her."

In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.

His First Love Returned from the Dead

The anesthesia had taken hold, and my consciousness was slipping away. I couldn't even speak another word of pleading.

However, my mother, Maria Lane, clung to that last shred of hope. She went down on her knees before Spencer Legrine, bowing and sobbing as she begged, "Spencer, I'm begging you. Please don't do this to her. Bethany is still your wife…

"She has already endured hundreds of plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones. The last time she fainted and was admitted to the hospital, the doctor warned us not to let her undergo any more plastic surgeries in private clinics, or she wouldn't be able to take it. She could die!"

She yelled the last sentence out, her voice hoarse. She kowtowed so hard that blood dripped from it, and she was in agony.

However, Spencer just stood there, merely glancing at his watch, his expression impatient.

He didn't even move until his phone rang, and then his eyes brightened, and all his irritation vanished as he answered gently, "Yunice, what's wrong?"

"Why aren't you here yet?" Yunice Bippy's voice was laced with annoyance. "It's only plastic surgery. Do you really need to stay there for so long? Just sign the papers and hurry over. I'll only wait another half hour."

Her tone, no matter how sharp it was, didn't stir a hint of anger in him.

I couldn't help but wonder, 'If it was me, if I showed even a hint of displeasure, he would walk away without a word and give me the silent treatment for several days.'

Only after I begged and apologized would he spare me a grudging "Don't do it again."

As it turned out, he wasn't cold by nature. He just didn't love me.

After the call ended, he ignored my mother's cries entirely. His mind was solely on Yunice as he eagerly signed the surgery consent form.

She threw herself at him, biting his wrist in a desperate, protective rage.

He shook her off, sending her frail body crashing into the cold wall, where she collapsed and coughed violently. She still managed to gasp out, "You can't do this to Bethany! You'll kill her!"

At her words, a mocking smile twisted his lips. "Mrs. Frodo, you really don't know Bethany at all, do you?

"If I told her to go through with the surgery, she'd do it without question. Even if I ordered her to eat dirt or die, she'd do it with gratitude.

"She's nothing but a dog, following me everywhere I go. I only married her because I thought Yunice was dead and needed someone to pacify my family. Did you two actually take this seriously?"

He turned and left. His retreating figure suddenly looked so unfamiliar. How could this be the man I had loved for over a decade?

His voice drifted back, cool and indifferent. "Once her surgery's done, I'll divorce her right away. Yunice deserves her rightful place."

My mother slid down the cold wall and collapsed on the floor, wailing in despair.

In the operating room, the machines hummed ominously in my ears.

They removed a section of rib that had been grafted into my nose, melted away the unknown filler embedded in my forehead, and shaved down my jawline—one that had already been reshaped countless times…

I felt my soul tearing, slipping in and out of my body.

The pain was so intense, but I no longer had the strength to care. All I could do was stare distantly at Spencer's retreating figure.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

'Spencer, a dead woman can't divorce you. Your precious first love is destined to be nothing but a "second wife" now. How laughable.'