I Became My Ex-Husband's Early-Deceased White Moonlight

1
In the final days of my life, I grew to despise my daughter.
If not for her, I could have lived a life of wild freedom—I wouldn’t be dying young, worn out from exhaustion.
So I began to torment her.
I made her cook, clean, and serve me endlessly. I watched coldly as she cut her finger chopping vegetables, blood beading like a red jewel.
I grabbed my cane and struck her hard across the back.
“Are you really this useless?” I snarled. “Can’t you do anything right?”
Finally, I called my ex-husband. “Come get your daughter. I can’t handle her anymore.”
But Claire dropped to her knees, her voice trembling. “Mommy… are you sending me away?”
I clenched my jaw and nodded. “Yes. I don’t want you anymore.”
Heartbreak swept over her young face.
She couldn’t understand—in the time I had left, I had something far more important to do.
I was going to become Ethan Knight’s greatest regret.
The one love he lost forever.
When Ethan walked through the door, his eyes swept the room, a deep frown forming on his face.
His gaze landed on me, cold as ice. "Is this what you call a 'good environment' for our daughter?" he demanded. "You let Claire live in a place like this?"
I was lounging on the sofa, casually eating a slice of apple Claire had just handed me, the picture of lazy contentment.
Ethan's frown deepened. "My God, Elara, you have no shame! If you didn't want to take care of her, why did you fight so hard for custody?"
"To make your life hell, of course," I said with a shrug. "You left me for Stella Locke without a second thought. Why should I let your daughter have a good life?"
My careless words hit their mark. Ethan’s control snapped.
He slammed his fist into the wall, his voice raw with anger. "I was right about you, Elara! You're nothing but a lazy, self-indulgent parasite!"
"That huge settlement I gave you when we divorced—I bet you didn't spend a dime of it on Claire. You blew it all on yourself, didn't you?"
My breath hitched, and my fingers dug into the armrest of the sofa.
Ethan's voice pressed on. "And now that the money's gone, you're tired of playing mom? Or is this just another ploy to squeeze more cash out of me, using Claire as bait?"
He looked down at our daughter, at her worn-out clothes, and his eyes blazed with fury.
"You're overthinking things," I said, popping the last piece of apple into my mouth. "I've had Claire for three years, and frankly, I'm done."
"The kid's got a difficult personality, no sense of gratitude. She's always causing trouble for me at school."
"And she's slow. A total nightmare to teach anything to. Her grades are a disaster."
"I'm not wasting any more of my life on her. You take her. You always adored her so much, didn't you?" I added, a saccharine smile on my face. "Or are you afraid Stella won't let you bring Claire home?"
Ethan's eyes widened in disbelief. "Elara, you carried her for nine months. She's your own flesh and blood. How can you say such horrible things about her?"
I let out a small, bitter laugh inside. "I know it's hard to accept, but it's the truth. Claire is not an exceptional child. Maybe... my genes dragged her down. So I'm giving her back to you. Maybe you can do a better job."
Ethan’s chest heaved, his face flushed with rage. He turned and knelt, taking Claire’s hand. His voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the venom he’d directed at me. "Claire, sweetheart. Daddy's taking you home."
Instinctively, Claire pulled her hand away and took two steps toward me.
I held her gaze, my expression unyielding. For a heartbeat, I saw a flicker of something in her eyes—a question, a plea. Then, she turned back, took Ethan's hand, and looked up at him.
"Daddy," she said softly, "I'll go with you. But... will you be good to me?"
I saw Ethan's eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nodded fiercely.
His head snapped back toward me, his voice thick with hatred. "Elara, I want you to stay out of Claire's life. You stay away from my daughter. A person like you doesn't deserve to be a mother."
He pulled Claire with him, storming out and slamming the door so hard the floorboards rattled.
The moment they were gone, my body gave out. I collapsed over the side of the sofa, vomiting up the apple and everything else in my stomach.
After a long moment, I closed my eyes, breathing through the nausea, and dialed Ethan’s assistant.
"Mr. Davis," I said, my voice weak. "When Ethan and I divorced, how much was the settlement he arranged for me?"
The man on the other end went silent. The pause stretched, heavy with guilt.
Finally, he took a deep breath. "Ms. Croft... I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Mr. Knight gave you a million dollars in cash and a luxury condo. But... Ms. Locke intercepted it all."
"The Locke family is powerful. They threatened my job, my family... I'm just an employee, Ms. Croft. I'm truly, deeply sorry..."
"I understand," I said, my voice flat. "I don't blame you."
"But I need you to tell Ethan the truth when the time is right. You owe that to me, and you owe it to Claire."
Another long silence. Then, a quiet, resigned, "Yes."
I hung up and let my body sink completely into the sofa cushions, my mind drifting.
My story with Ethan was painfully simple. I loved him, and he loved someone else. I’d adored him from afar for three years, and when his perfect Stella Locke went abroad to study, I saw my chance and took it. We married, and soon we had our beautiful daughter. For a while, the way Ethan looked at me grew softer, warmer.
Just when I thought we were building a real life, his perfect girl came back.
What followed was the oldest story in the book. A forced divorce. But unlike in the novels, there was no grand, regretful gesture, no dramatic chase to win me back. The only surprise was that in the three years since we'd split, he and Stella had never married.
I never doubted Ethan’s love for Claire, but his affections were fickle. With Stella constantly whispering in his ear, I couldn't risk our daughter’s future on a gamble. And I couldn't bear the thought of leaving the child I’d fought so hard to bring into this world all alone. So when we divorced, I fought for her. I had a job; I could support us.
This apartment wasn't the hovel Ethan made it out to be. It just wasn't the Knight family mansion.
My thoughts grew hazy, and I drifted off, only to be jolted awake by the shrill ring of my phone.
Ethan's voice was a low growl, laced with icy fury. "You're a monster, Elara."
"You dared to abuse my daughter?"
"She's just a little girl! How could you hit her? The nanny saw the bruises on her back when she was giving her a bath. Even she was in tears."
"And you... you're her mother. How could you be so cruel...?" His voice cracked on the last word, and for a second, I thought I heard a sob.
Suppressing my surprise, I answered calmly, "I was just trying to teach her a lesson. She's so clumsy, she never learns."
"Bullshit!" he roared. The vulgarity was so unlike the polished gentleman he always tried to be that a small, genuine laugh escaped my lips.
"You think this is funny? I'm telling you, Elara, I won't let you get away with this!"
He hung up.
I waited for his revenge. But three days passed, and all I got was a call from my boss telling me I was fired.
I just smiled. It didn't matter. What's a job when you only have a few days left to live?
Two weeks later, I came home from a hospital appointment to find Ethan waiting outside my door. This time, he wasn't shouting. He just watched me, his expression searching, confused.
After a long silence, he spoke, his voice hesitant. "Elara... do you even know our daughter?"
"Claire is sweet, she's obedient, and she's been top of her class every single year. Why would you say she's a terrible student?"
"At first, I thought you just didn't care enough to know. But I heard you never missed a parent-teacher conference. Her teacher said you were always asking about her progress."
"So, Elara," he asked, his eyes locking onto mine, "why did you lie?"
I lowered my gaze, my mind racing. Then, I looked up and gave him a mocking smile. "Does it matter what I say, Ethan? When have you ever believed a word that came out of my mouth?"
He flinched, a flicker of memory crossing his face, and his expression soured.
"Remember when Stella moved into our house right after she came back?" I pressed on. "She knew she was allergic to shellfish, but she told me she was craving seafood risotto and begged me to make it for her."
She had made a show of praising my cooking right in front of him, then collapsed, gasping for air. No matter how much I tried to explain, Ethan was convinced I'd done it on purpose.
"You can't stand to see her happy, can you, Elara? Do you have any idea how dangerous an allergy can be? Your jealousy has made you into a pathetic, irrational monster!"
His harsh words used to feel like daggers. Now, I felt nothing.
"Remember when she tore her gown for the gala and blamed me? I explained, the housekeeper even backed me up, but did you believe me?"
The color drained from Ethan’s face.
"The day you took her to that art exhibit overseas, she paid off one of the counselors at Claire's summer camp to call me and say Claire had gotten lost on a hike in the mountains."
"I drove out there in the middle of the night. Someone 'guided' me deep into the woods until I was completely lost. I nearly died out there."
"And when I told you what happened, what did you say?"
He had looked at me with a flash of surprise, then immediately dismissed it. "That's impossible. I was with Stella the entire time. When would she have had the time to arrange all that?"
His excuses were pathetic then, and they were pathetic now. But I knew that once Ethan Knight made up his mind, nothing could change it. Unless...
"Some things, you have to find out for yourself. You'll only believe it when you see the proof." My voice was cold, detached.
He stood there in a long, heavy silence as I unlocked my door and stepped inside. Just as I was about to close it, I heard him whisper, "I'm sorry."
"I didn't know Stella kept the settlement money from you. I'll make it right."
I offered a dismissive smile. Money was the last thing on my mind.
But one thing was critically important.
In the time I had left, I would become Ethan’s other great love. The one he could never have back.
A ghost that would haunt him forever. If he wouldn't mourn me out of love, I would force him to mourn me out of guilt. Every woman knows the devastating power of a love lost to death.
Only then would he truly, endlessly love my daughter. Only then would he shut his heart to any other woman who tried to get close.
I admit, my plan was selfish and cruel. But I had no regrets.
Inside, I swallowed a handful of the new painkillers, forcing down the wave of nausea. Then I picked up a pen and wrote in my journal.
A week later, a frantic pounding echoed through my apartment.
I opened the door and was violently shoved inside before I could even see who it was. The door slammed shut behind them.
Five or six people stood in my living room. Leading them was Stella Locke. Her expression was more arrogant than ever, but her eyes burned with a raw, hateful fire.
"You're clever, Elara, I'll give you that. Actually convincing Ethan to look into what happened three years ago."
"Do you have any idea what you've done? We were about to get engaged!"
She stepped forward and her hand flew, striking my face with a sharp crack. I could have dodged it, but I took the full force of the blow. A bright red handprint bloomed on my cheek. I lowered my head, feigning fear, but a secret smile touched my lips.
The slap seemed to have calmed her slightly.
"Don't get too smug," she said, her voice regaining its composure. "So what if Ethan knows the truth? All I have to do is sweet-talk him a little, and he'll come running back to me."
"Just like before. He abandoned you for me once, he'll do it again." She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. "And after I marry him, I'll be sure to take very good care of your precious daughter."
My head snapped up. I shoved her with all my might, sending her stumbling back.
Rage contorted her beautiful features. "Teach her a lesson!" she shrieked.
Rough hands grabbed me, forcing me to the floor. They held metal rods, and they brought them down hard on my back.
After just a few blows, Stella called them off.
"I'm not going to give you a chance to play the victim for Ethan," she purred, looking down at me. "It's just a few hits. You can handle that, can't you?"
With that, she and her thugs swept out of my apartment.
I lay on the floor, unable to move for a long time. But inside, my heart was pounding with a wild, triumphant excitement. I had been trying to figure out how to lure her here, and she had walked right into my trap, playing her part perfectly.
I let out a raw, broken laugh.
With trembling arms, I pulled myself up and wrote the final entry in my journal.
Then, I emptied the entire bottle of sleeping pills into my hand and swallowed them all.
Don't blame me for this, Stella. I no longer cared about her and Ethan’s twisted love story. But if she hadn't stolen the money Ethan meant for me, I wouldn't have had to work three jobs just to give my daughter a decent life. I wouldn't have destroyed my own body in the process.
This was a debt she owed me.
I was never a good person to begin with. A mother who would strike her own child is destined for hell. What’s one more sin on my soul?
Claire, my darling, Mommy can't watch you grow up, can't see you blossom into a beautiful woman, can't be there for the spectacular life you're going to live.
But with my own life, I will buy you a ticket to a better one.
With that last thought, my world faded to black.

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