Chapter 1

I’m an embalmer, always dealing with the dead. But now, I’m battling a living ghost for my husband’s heart.

My husband, Julian Sterling, fell in love with a dead woman.

He’d make me breakfast in the morning and hold me in his arms at night, gently whispering ‘Harper.’ But I knew all his tenderness was separated by a chilling layer of ice. Because his heart had been buried with Eleanor, the love of his life, three years ago.

Then I got pregnant. I held the pregnancy test results, hoping this baby could finally break through the ice between us. But Eleanor’s sister, Chloe Reed, threw a scalding hot liquid onto my stomach.

“My brother-in-law said he’d never touch any woman but my sister.”

Her smile twisted into something cruel. “Harper, your husband said he never touched you.”

“Now tell me, whose bastard child is that?”

I was putting the final touches on an eighty-year-old man’s appearance. His children cried their hearts out around him. My hands meticulously mended the traces left by life. In my eyes, death was never an end, but another beginning.

“Lisa, today’s a priority case from the police department. Dr. Sam Miller is really pressing for it.” I was giving instructions.

My phone rang.

“Harper, are you off work? It’s our third wedding anniversary today. I ordered that ridiculously pricey French dessert from your favorite French restaurant.”

Julian Sterling’s voice was as gentle as a spring breeze.

My colleague, Lisa, peered over, her eyes full of envy. “Harper, your husband is so thoughtful! Three years married and he still remembers your anniversary. My guy forgot ages ago.”

I hummed in response and hung up.

Three years.

He’d never forgotten a single important date. Birthdays, anniversaries, holidays. Every one was remembered perfectly, prepared impeccably. It was so perfect, it felt less like love and more like a pre-programmed routine.

Back home, candlelight flickered in the living room. Julian Sterling, dressed in his loungewear, was arranging the table. There was my favorite red wine steak and that insanely expensive French dessert.

“Rough day, Harper?”

He walked over, took my bag, and kissed my forehead.

“Do you like it?”

He pulled out a velvet box from behind him. Inside lay a diamond necklace, sparkling under the light. It must have cost a fortune.

“It’s beautiful,” I said honestly. It truly was beautiful, and truly expensive. Just like last year’s bracelet and the year before’s earrings.

Julian Sterling personally fastened the necklace around my neck, his fingers gently brushing my skin. His movements were incredibly tender, yet his gaze drifted somewhere far away. I suddenly thought of the elderly man’s family from earlier today. They were crying out, “How could you bear to leave us?”