But just then, there was a knock on my door.
I opened it, and there stood Clarice.
I had rented an apartment close to hers to make it easier to take care of her.
In my previous life, after all the years we'd been together, this was the first time she'd ever come to see me on her own.
Instinctively, I picked up my phone to check, making sure I hadn't missed any messages from her.
Our conversation was still stuck on my invitation for dinner that evening.
Seeing Clarice as she was decades ago, I froze for a moment.
After loving her for so many years in my previous life, seeing her now made me feel a bit angry.
I asked her sharply, "What do you want?"
She looked taken aback, clearly not knowing what to say. She fidgeted with the hem of her clothes, hesitating for a while before finally saying, a bit shyly, "Can we talk inside?"
Looking at this woman I had pampered so much in my past life, I couldn't help but feel some resentment.
After all, it was my attempts to please her that ultimately led to my death.
In my past life, I carefully planned out every detail of our wedding anniversary celebration.
I started preparing days in advance.
Every single detail of that evening was meticulously designed.