Four Years After I Died, My Grandma Called My Toxic Ex

Four years after my death, Nana dug out my old cell phone and called Olivia.

Olivia: Its been exactly four years, and you finally thought to call me?

What, did your sugar mamas run out of cash? If you're broke, just go find a few more women to sell yourself to. Don't play the victim with me.

Let me tell you something: I don't ever want to see you again, even if you're dead!

On the other end of the line, Nana froze, her hunched back looking especially frail and lonely.

She clutched the phone and asked cautiously, "Livvy, did you and my Ethan get into a fight? I can't find him."

After saying that, Nana stared blankly across the empty room. As if suddenly remembering something, she murmured, "Oh, right. Ethan is dead. He's gone. How could I forget again..."

Maybe it was because I couldn't bear to leave Nana behind, but I stayed by her side as a spirit after I died.

Unfortunately, Nana had Alzheimer's, and she often forgot that I was dead.

This time, she had another episode. She wandered off to the park by herself and forgot the way home.

The stubborn little old lady sat on a bench, muttering to herself, "It's okay if I can't find the way. When Ethan realizes I'm not home, he'll definitely come out looking for me."

My soul was hovering right beside her.

Even though she wasn't far from home, she couldn't hear me, so I had no way to point her in the right direction.

As the sun began to set, my ghostly form started pacing around frantically.

An eighty-year-old woman spending the night alone in the parkshe wouldn't be able to handle the cold.

Fortunately, Nana seemed to realize this too. Looking at the thinning crowd, she finally stood up.

She walked up to someone, grabbed their arm, and asked, "Have you seen my grandson, Ethan?"

I knew that as long as she asked someone, they would chat with her, realize she was lost, and probably take her to the local police precinct.

Once she was at the precinct, she would get home safely.

Unfortunately, Nana asked the wrong person.

Because the person she grabbed was Olivia.

Olivia looked down at Nana, a hint of impatience in her voice. "Where did Ethan go? Why are you out here alone?"

"It's so late and he just left you sitting in a park? He's probably out messing around with..."

She didn't finish the sentence, perhaps out of respect for Nana.

But I knew exactly what she meant.

She wanted to say I was probably out messing around with some random woman.

See? Even though I had been dead for four years, this woman's disgust for me hadn't faded one bit.

Nana didn't pick up on the hostility. Seeing Olivia actually made her incredibly happy.

"Livvy! It's been so long since you came over for dinner. Don't you love Nana's homemade pot roast? Tomorrow is your birthday, come over and eat."

"You young people need to treat each other well when you're dating. My Ethan is a good boy, he just likes to keep his feelings bottled up."

"When he left the house today, he said he was going to buy you a birthday present. He wanted to give you a surprise tomorrow."

So Nana's memory was stuck on that exact day.

Back then, we were still deeply in love, attached at the hip like any other passionately dating couple.

And her childhood sweetheart hadn't returned yet.

What a shame.

Hearing this, a mocking smirk tugged at the corner of Olivia's mouth. "Nana, this isn't funny."

"Ethan and I already broke up."

"And if he went out to buy a birthday present, it was probably for another woman."

Nana stared at her, stunned. "You broke up? But Ethan never told me."

"Livvy, don't be mad. When Ethan gets back, I'll teach him a lesson!"

The little old lady looked adorable when she was angry.

I wanted to hug her, to tell her not to be upset, but my arms just phased right through her body.

Four years, and I still hadn't gotten used to being nothing but a ghost.

Olivia's smile grew wider, colder.

She obviously didn't believe a word Nana said.

"I told you, we are completely over."

"If this is just some trick Ethan taught you to play, I'll let it slide this one time."

"But please, never bring up his name in front of me again."

Just then, two neighborhood ladies walked over, looking surprised to see Nana.

"Ma'am, it's so late, why aren't you home yet? Did you forget where you live again?"

Then, one of them whispered to the other, clicking her tongue. "It's a tragedy, really. She and her grandson were all each other had, but then the boy died four years ago. Now it's just this poor old lady all by herself."

Yeah, I died four years ago.

I remember that birthday four years ago. I went to the mall, full of excitement to buy her a present, only to see her walking arm-in-arm with another man.

After stumbling out of the mall in a daze, I got a DM on Instagram from a stranger.

I opened it. It was a selfie of a guy in a white button-down shirt, lying on messy white hotel sheets. Right next to him on the nightstand was a distinct, elegant custom lapel pin.

Along with the photo was a message: They say a new fling can never beat a childhood sweetheart. Think you stand a chance against me?

I recognized that lapel pin. It was the birthday present I had given her.

I remembered it so vividly because, even though it wasn't wildly expensive, I had designed and crafted every piece of it myself.

Olivia never minded that it wasn't a luxury brand. She even wore it to major corporate board meetings.

She used to say it was the symbol of our love.

But now, that symbol was casually sitting by another man's hotel bed.

That was the moment I realized love could be so incredibly cheap.

Hearing the neighborhood lady's words, Olivia's entire body went rigid.

A chaotic mix of emotions flashed across her face.

Finally, she asked in disbelief, "What did you just say? Ethan is dead?"

"You're lying to me, right? Ethan put you up to this."

"That man is a pathological liar."

The two ladies looked shocked. While holding onto Nana, they muttered to each other:

"Who is this girl? Is she crazy?"

"Seriously, who lies about someone being dead? That's just cursing them."

Hearing them, Nana seemed to remember again. She opened her mouth, her lips trembling, and finally whispered, "Yes... my Ethan... he's gone..."

Olivia just stood there, completely frozen, looking almost ridiculous.

And my drifting soul followed the two ladies as they helped Nana walk all the way home.

When Nana finally stepped through the front door, I actually felt relieved that Olivia hadn't followed us.

Perhaps remembering my death made Nana sad.

The lonely little old lady sat on the sofa, her thin, frail hands tracing the glass of my photograph as she cried silently.

"Tell me, you were so young, how could you leave your Nana behind?"

I floated over, trying to wipe her tears, but grabbed nothing but air. I could only cry with her. "Nana, I didn't leave. I'm right here."

But she couldn't hear me.

Right then, the doorbell rang, followed by Olivia's voice. "Nana, open the door. It's me, Olivia."

I panicked.

No. Don't open the door for her.

If she comes in and starts going through my old things...

I didn't dare to imagine what would happen.

Nana was a bit slow to react. Hearing the doorbell and the shouting, she slowly turned her head.

She seemed to be trying to process it.

Outside, Olivia's voice rang out again:

"Nana, just let me in."

"Ethan, I took a second to calm down and think about it. There's no way you're actually dead. You just wanted to trick me into coming over."

"Well, I'm here now! Stop pretending and open the door!"

She was pounding on the door and aggressively ringing the bell.

I was furious. All this shouting was going to terrify Nana.

She never used to act like this. Back then, whether it was to me or Nana, she spoke softly, always terrified of sounding too harsh.

But now, she wasn't just ringing the bell; she was practically trying to break the door down.

Filled with resentment, I rushed to the door to warn her off.

But my ghostly form just phased right through the wood.

No matter how angry I was, I was just weightless air.

Because I couldn't teach her a lesson, I felt completely helpless. Tears of pure frustration welled up in my eyes.

But I was just a ghost; even crying lacked the cathartic release it had when I was alive.

I screamed at her, "Yeah! I'm lying to you! So leave! Get out of here and don't ever come back!"

While I was throwing my tantrum outside, a loud crash echoed from inside the apartment.

Terrified something happened to Nana, I phased back through the door.

Thankfully, Nana was still sitting safely in her chair. It was just a picture frame that had fallen to the floor.

Nana, looking as if she had just woken from a dream, stared at the frame on the floor and slowly bent down to pick it up.

Holding it in her hands, she gently wiped my photo over and over again.

"It got dirty. Ethan loved this picture the most. Thank goodness the glass didn't break."

She was right. It used to be my favorite photo.

Because Olivia had taken it.

But I wanted to tell Nana that it wasn't my favorite anymore.

My favorite photo was the one sitting right next to her handa picture of me and her together.