My Husband’s Favorite Parrot Loved Him More Than Me Chapter 01

My Husband’s Favorite Parrot Loved Him More Than Me Chapter 01

My husband brought home an African grey parrot that screamed “Go to hell” at me every single day.

So I sent it to Parrot Prep Academy.

Locked it in a mirror conditioning cage, looped “I’m a good bird” three thousand times a day.

All because I got a second chance.

In my past life, that bird only knew two phrases from the moment it walked through the door.

“You’re ugly.”

“Go to hell.”

I thought it was just mimicking.

Until my body started falling apart piece by piece.

First came the sleepless nights—endless nightmares where the same voice whispered “Go to hell, Go to hell, Go to hell” on repeat.

Then I couldn’t eat. Everything made me sick. I wasted away to skin and bones.

And finally, organ failure.

Right before I died, I found out the truth. It was never a bird.

It was my “dead” best friend.

***

In my past life, I died in a hospital room.

Tubes everywhere, the heart monitor letting out one long, flat beep.

The last sound I heard came from Crystal—that parrot.

He sat on the windowsill, head tilted, watching me. And let out a soft laugh.

A woman’s laugh.

I couldn’t speak anymore by then, but I recognized it.

It was my best friend, Holly Baxter.

Holly, who’d “died of illness” three years ago.

My soul floated up out of my body. I watched the nurse pull the white sheet over my face.

Derek Vance stood in the doorway, eyes red, looking absolutely devastated.

He cried for a while. Then turned and walked away.

I followed him.

I watched him drive to a house in Crestwood Estate and open the door.

A woman sat inside. Holly. She wore a silk nightgown, her hair loose over her shoulders.

No sign of sickness on her face. Rosy skin, bright smile, looking like an eighteen-year-old girl.

Derek walked over, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her forehead.

“She’s dead,” he said.

“Finally.”

Holly smiled.

“I spent three years in that parrot’s body, saying those things to her every single day. Her life energy got cursed away, piece by piece.”

“Now that she’s dead, all that energy belongs to me.”

Derek cupped her face. “You can finally be human again.”

Holly stood up from the couch, stretched, and took a deep breath.

“This body’s finally usable. Three years as a bird—I almost forgot what being human felt like.”

Derek laughed. “When you got that cancer three years ago, I was really scared you’d die.”

“Thank god that psychic said he could transfer your soul into a parrot and use someone else’s lifespan to keep you alive.”

“He said our horoscopes had to be compatible.”

Holly leaned into his chest.

“Your wife’s chart matches mine perfectly. Her life was always meant to be used for me.”

Derek kissed her hair. “Her entire value was giving her life to you.”

I stood right there, watching those two.

My husband and my best friend.

One of them holding the other, saying my life was my best friend’s blessing.

I didn’t cry.

Souls don’t have tears.

I just remembered every word. Every expression. Every single frame.

And then I woke up.

Woke up three years earlier.

Woke up on the day Derek brought that parrot home.

“Tessa? Tessa, you okay?”

Derek’s voice pulled me back.

He looked at me with concern, one hand on my shoulder.

Warm. Carrying the scent of his usual cologne.

I looked down and saw my slightly rounded belly.

Four months pregnant.

In my past life, that baby never made it.

He died inside me before my body even completely fell apart.

The doctor said it was maternal malnutrition that stopped the growth.

Now I knew the truth.

It was because Holly, inside that parrot’s body, cursed me day and night, sucking away my life one breath at a time.

The baby got drained right along with me.

I looked up at Derek.

He wore a soft, gentle smile, but underneath it, a tiny flicker of expectation.

He was waiting for me to accept the bird.

In my past life, I did. Cradled it like a treasure.

This life—

“Thank you, honey.” I smiled and reached for the cage. “This parrot is gorgeous.”