Buried on His Wedding Day

My marriage to Lucian Hawke was hailed as the most perfect union in the mafia world.

As the daughter of the Sinclair family and him being the sole heir of the Hawke family, our marriage united the two most powerful mafia families in the Northeastern. I thought we were unbreakable.

Then, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. As if life couldn’t get any worse, my husband's first love returned—on the very same day. That night, the man I’d been married to for years didn’t come home.

The next morning, his voice was cold, distant. Indifferent.

“I’ve got the divorce papers ready. When can you come sign them?”

I hesitated, struggling to steady my voice. “I’m still at the hospital.”

He didn’t even pause. “I don’t care if you're on your deathbed, Elara. Come home and sign the goddamn papers.”

My heart shattered, but I refused to let it show. “As you wish, Lucian.”

What he didn’t know was that I was dying—literally.

A week later, at my funeral, Lucian wearing a tuxedo, weeping at my grave, whispering regrets he should have voiced when I was still breathing.

Ironically, my funeral day, was also his wedding day with his sweetheart.

But it was too late, my love.

This time, you’ll never see me again.

1

“Mrs. Hawke, your condition has worsened. Please let me admit you to the hospital for a more thorough evaluation,” the doctor urged, concern creasing his brow.

Unlike my husband, Lucian, who had disappeared the moment his high school sweetheart, Selene Montgomery, returned to town.

“That won’t be necessary, doctor. I’ve planned to spend the next few days with family and friends,” I replied, offering a faint smile.

I knew my body better than anyone. It was deteriorating faster than anyone could help, and I preferred to spend my last days in comfort, not confined to a sterile hospital room.

When I returned to the mansion, Lucian was already there, sitting on the sofa with the coldest expression I had ever seen.

“Didn’t you say you were at the hospital? You look perfectly healthy to me, all rosy in the cheeks,” he sneered.

I fought to keep my composure, but my voice betrayed me, wavering with the pain I could no longer hide. “You came home early. Did you run out of time with your little girlfriend?”

His jaw tightened, annoyance flashing in his eyes.

“Where are the divorce papers?” I couldn't pretend anymore. My strength was rapidly slipping away. I could barely stand.

Lucian’s expression darkened, his voice colder than ever. “Elara, don’t play games with me. Don’t even think about trying to get back at me with your family’s threats.”

I didn’t respond to his accusations. I simply extended my hand, waiting for him to give me the papers.

He threw them at me, his tone dripping with disdain. “Sign it. Not that I care about you anymore. I just want to be done with all this.”

I picked up the paper from the floor and placed it on the desk. Before signing, I looked into Lucian’s eyes, searching for any trace of love that might still remain, even after all this time.

“I guess this is it,” I said quietly. “Lucian, may you have a wonderful, blissful life without me.”

I picked up the pen, my hand shaking slightly as I wrote my name on the line. The moment I finished, I felt every ounce of energy drain from me. I clung to the last of my strength, refusing to collapse in front of Lucian, unwilling to show any sign of weakness.

“Don’t fake it, Elara. You and I both know you’re stronger than this. Playing the martyr won’t change anything between us.” Lucian’s voice was cold, his smile sharp. “If it weren’t for your interference and your mafia father’s threat, I’d be with Selene now, and we’d be living the life we were meant to have.”

He paused, his expression darkening. “I knew you treated me well these years, but don’t think I’ve forgotten how you ruined my chance with her. This is the least you owe me.”

His words hit me like a punch. My father’s threats? I owed him? I forced a bitter smile, wondering if he’d ever regret what he just said. If only he knew the truth.

“So you never loved me, then?” I whispered, barely able to keep the tremor from my voice.

“Of course not,” Lucian replied, as if my question were a joke.

“And if I disappear… if I die, will you forgive me for threatening you into marrying me all these years?”

For a moment, shock flickered across his face. But it vanished quickly, replaced by a cold indifference.

"You can ask me that when you’re actually dying," he said, turning away.

The door clicked shut behind him. That was when I lost it. My whole body collapsed to the floor, and a black emptiness swallowed me whole.

When I woke up, I was already in the hospital.

2

"I didn’t think you’d take your own health as some kind of joke." Milo’s voice cut through the silence, laced with frustration. "Was Lucian really worth it? Worth risking your own body just to please him?"

Milo had been my friend long before I married Lucian. In fact, he was the one who introduced me to him in the first place.

It was at one of those annual parties for the mafia families of New York City—lavish gatherings meant for celebrating, forging alliances, and striking business deals. I had never been fond of those events, but that year, Milo somehow talked me into going. That was the night I met Lucian, and I fell for him—hard.

Milo sighed, his brows furrowed into a tight knot. "Seeing you like this makes me wonder if introducing you to Lucian was a mistake from the start." His voice softened, but the frustration remained. "Elara, you shouldn’t do this. Degrading yourself—for what? That bastard? Haven’t you given him enough already? You handed him deals that should have been yours in the first place. Now he’s successful, and what does he do? He leaves you for that whore. And you’re still chasing after him—for what? Love?"

I swallowed, my throat dry. "I know what you mean, Milo. But I can’t control it. I loved him. I gave him everything I could. And now… I’m just repaying my debts, that’s all."

Milo exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "How are you, then? The doctor refused to tell me. She said no one outside the family could know your condition." His frustration was obvious.

"Nothing serious." I forced a weak smile. "I guess I’ve just been exhausted lately."

Milo pulled up a chair and sat down, studying me with sharp eyes, as if trying to see through the lie. After a moment, he shook his head. "Don’t lie to me, Elara. You look terrible."

My smile faded. I didn’t answer, but my silence was enough. Milo’s expression darkened. "Does Lucian know?"

I shook my head.

"Why haven’t you told him?" His grip tightened on his phone. "He should know. If he did, maybe he’d be here instead of—"

"No," I cut him off, my voice barely above a whisper. My tears threatened to fall. "Please, as my friend, respect this. I don’t want to tell him. If he chooses to believe I’m the villain, then let me be. I won’t cause more trouble for my family—or his."

If it weren’t for yesterday’s conversation, I would never have known that Lucian had resented me all these years for marrying him.

And I wanted to tell him… that it wasn’t my intention to force him into this marriage. It wasn’t my father’s threats, either.

Yes, I loved him. I loved him from the moment I met him. But I never wanted him to break up with the woman he loved to marry me.

It was his own family who came to me, begging for help.

"Please, Elara." Lucian’s mother, Lilia, had held my hands, her eyes red with desperation. "Our deals with the Southerns have fallen through, and now Lucian is threatening to leave us for that woman—Selene. We’re desperate."

"I’ve always admired your father and your family’s work. Please, I know you love Lucian. Save him. Save us."

I had agreed.

I have to admit—part of me had hoped that, after our marriage, Lucian would learn to love me. That I could give him what she couldn’t—wealth, power, status.

"You’re better than this, Elara. I know you are."

If Lucian hadn’t given me those divorce papers yesterday… if he hadn’t spent the night with Selene… maybe I would have told him the truth.

That I never wanted anything from this marriage—except him.

But now, what was the point?

Telling him would only invite his mockery.

So let him believe I was the villain.

It didn’t matter anymore.

I was dying anyway.

…

Lucian called me just as I was leaving the hospital.

“The judge approved our divorce petition. Meet me at the courthouse this afternoon. I’ll have a lawyer on standby.”

3

His voice was as cold as ever, but strangely, I didn’t feel sad anymore.

“Okay, see you there,” I replied simply.

As soon as I hung up, Milo spoke up. “At least let me take you there. I’d hate to see you go alone.”

I wanted to refuse—Milo and Lucian had some argument about me a while back then, and the last thing I needed for today was another argument, or worse, an unnecessary fight.

Before I could protest, Milo added, “I won’t say anything to Lucian. I just don’t want you to be there alone while he has his people with him.”

He was right. I needed someone on my side today.

And thank God I brought Milo. Because when we arrived at the courthouse, Lucian wasn’t alone—his sweetheart, Selene, was there too.

She looked just like she had years ago, dressed in a tight denim dress that hugged her curves, red lips curled into an all-too-satisfied smile. But today, she radiated something extra—triumph.

Lucian’s expression flickered with surprise when he saw me stepping out of the car with Milo.

“Milo?” He frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with my father about that shipment?”

Milo ignored him, gently guiding me up the courthouse steps. As we passed, he suddenly asked, “Lucian, do you really have to go through with this divorce?”

Lucian’s jaw tightened. “Oh? Did Elara bring you to mediate today?” he sneered.

Before I could respond, Milo spoke again, voice calm and firm. “Elara didn’t ask me to come. I just refuse to let my friend stand here alone while her soon-to-be ex-husband has his hands full.”

“You—” Lucian’s fists clenched, his anger palpable.

Milo, in contrast, remained composed. “Here’s my advice—think carefully about this divorce. Think about the years Elara stood by you. The way your family’s reputation and wealth grew because of her. She helped you, loved you, respected you. Can you really say the same about the person standing beside you now?”

Lucian’s brows furrowed. Did Milo’s words strike a nerve? Was he finally realizing what he was throwing away?

Selene tossed her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder and stepped forward with a sugary smile. “I won’t deny that Elara helped Lucian while I was gone.” She glanced at me, her tone dripping with condescension. “But I’m back now. And shouldn’t real love be together? Their marriage was built on business and profit. It’s nothing compared to the pure love Lucian and I share.”

She reached for Lucian’s hand. “And he’s loved me all these years. Isn’t that enough?”

Milo suddenly let out a short laugh. “Pure love? You really have the audacity to say that?” His tone turned sharp. “Who ran away all those years ago with the money god knows who had given you?”

Selene stiffened.

Milo squeezed my hand gently before continuing. “I don’t know what kind of sick game you two are playing, but I do know one thing—you don’t love Lucian. You only love yourself.”

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating.

Then Lucian finally spoke, voice laced with fury. “Enough. Selene left for a reason. If it weren’t for Elara showing up at her door, threatening her to take the settlement or die, she never would have left me.”

I inhaled sharply.

Lucian turned to Milo, his glare fierce. “You knew all of this, and yet you’re still siding with her? Can’t you see she’s just a crazy bitch?”

Milo’s jaw clenched. “Lucian, what happened back then was—”

“Enough,” I cut him off, my voice steady but cold. “You’re right, Lucian. I’m that bitch who threatened your girlfriend to leave you—or die. And I’m still that bitch today. So here’s another threat—let’s get this divorce over with. I’m done with this bullshit.”

As soon as I finished speaking, my legs wobbled, and I nearly collapsed. If it weren’t for Milo’s steady hands, I would have.

“Elara…” Milo murmured, his eyes filled with concern.

I shook my head slightly. I knew he wanted to defend me, to clear my name. And I appreciated it. But there was no need.

Because in the end, Selene was right.

Lucian never loved me. That was the only truth that mattered.

Everything I had done for him—none of it had ever been enough.

4

The divorce process was surprisingly quick—perhaps because Lucian and I had both cooperated.

As we stepped out of the courthouse, a heavy weight lifted off my chest. It was over. I was free. No ties to Lucian anymore.

Selene ran to hug him, her excitement unmistakable. Meanwhile, I descended the stairs slowly, each step steadier than the last.

“Babe, you’re finally single! We can be together now. We can get married!” Selene's voice was filled with joy, but Lucian remained shockingly silent.

I waited for his response too. Was he happy now? Now that we were finally apart?

Lost in thought, I missed a step. My heart lurched as I stumbled, but before I could fall, Lucian was there—his hands gripping mine, steadying me.

For the first time in a long while, he looked at me, and his eyes held neither mockery nor disdain. His grip tightened as if… he didn’t want to let go.

Did he regret it? Was he regretting our divorce?

The thought vanished as quickly as it came. Impossible. He had wanted this. He had chosen Selene over me. He had pushed for this divorce so urgently that the moment she returned to town, he had the papers ready for me to sign.

From his car, Milo had been watching the scene unfold. He rolled down his window and said, “Lucian, it’s not too late to regret, you know.”

Selene immediately stepped forward, prying Lucian’s hands off mine. “Why would my babe regret this divorce? He couldn’t be happier to be rid of her.”

Milo walked over, gently pulling me to his side. His voice was calm but sharp. “And what makes you so sure you can make him happy? Money? Your body? That little career of yours?”

“I can give him love!” Selene snapped. “Something no one else ever could!”

I exhaled tiredly. “Milo, take me home. I just want to rest.”

Milo sighed, sensing my exhaustion. He guided me toward his car, but before we reached it, he paused at the last step. Turning to Lucian, he said, “Think about what I said. Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

Lucian held Selene in his arms, but his eyes remained locked on mine. Then, his voice rang out, steady and cold.

“I won’t regret it.”

He hesitated, then added, “Because I never loved Elara. There’s nothing to regret.”

A sharp pain surged through my chest, stealing my breath. The words cut deeper than I’d expected. A tidal wave of grief crashed over me, suffocating, drowning.

I turned and opened the car door to Milo’s car. As soon as I sat down, a violent cough racked my body, warm liquid dripped from my nose onto my trembling fingers.

Blood.

Everything around me blurred.

5

I knew I had fainted. So when I woke up, I was shocked to find myself lying in a hospital bed—again.

I tried to sit up, but then I realized…I was floating.

Milo was crying, his hands clutching mine.

I frowned. Am I dead? Am I just a ghost now?

I followed him when he left the hospital room. I followed him as he knocked on my parents’ door. I followed him when he broke the news to my family and friends—that I was gone.

I watched them cry. I watched my mother crumble. I watched my father’s eyes turn red as he sobbed.

I wanted to hold them, but I couldn’t.

In the days that followed, I stayed with Milo—or rather, I floated after him, watching as he handled my funeral arrangements and my ashes.

It had only been a couple of days, but he already looked thinner, worn down.

Three days before my funeral, he sat before my ashes, hesitating before speaking.

“Elara, give me a sign. Should I tell Lucian or not? It’s your decision.”

I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted. But I hoped he wouldn’t.

Because I was afraid. Afraid Lucian would be relieved. Afraid he’d be devastated, too.

Then, his phone rang. I watched as he picked it up.

Lucian’s voice came through the other end, startling me.

“Milo, my wedding is in three days. I hope you’ll come and set aside all the drama with Elara for once. You’re my friend too, remember? I could really use your support at the altar.”

A familiar suffocation gripped my throat. I didn’t even know a ghost could feel like this.

Milo’s face went pale. His voice trembled. “Why…why does it have to be that day?”

Lucian sounded confused. “What’s wrong with that day?”

“No, nothing,” Milo whispered. “I’ll be there. I have to go now.” He hesitated before hanging up.

His voice barely above a whisper, he murmured, “Elara… Lucian is marrying Selene in three days.”

He stammered, his hands shaking. “But that day… that day is your funeral.”

That day was my funeral.

And on that very same day, my ex-husband was marrying the love of his life.

I took a deep breath—not because I needed the air anymore. How could I? Was this some kind of sick joke?

Even in death, Lucian still found ways to punish me.

I wanted to storm into his wedding, to tell him that I was gone, that I didn’t want his wedding overshadowing my funeral. But I couldn’t. Not only because I was just a ghost now, but because Lucian and I had already divorced.

He had the right to marry whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

There was nothing I could do to change that.

Three days later, Milo stepped out of his house in a sharp black suit, his expression indifferent. But I saw his eyes—still puffy from crying the night before.

It wasn’t just cruel to me. It was cruel to my friends, too.

And Milo… he was the one who blamed himself the most for what had happened between Lucian and me.

I wanted to hold him, to tell him that I no longer cared about Lucian or his wedding. That I cared about him more. That he shouldn’t waste another second mourning Lucian’s choices.

But all I could do was float behind him, following him to the wedding like a shadow.

The moment Milo stepped into the venue, the entire room fell into a stunned silence.

Lucian turned toward him, impeccably dressed in his tailored wedding suit, and quickly made his way over. “Milo, what the hell? Why are you dressed like this at my wedding? Didn’t you get the dress code? Everyone’s supposed to wear light colors. Is this some kind of joke?”

Milo’s voice was calm but cutting. “Excuse me, but after your wedding, I still have Elara’s funeral to attend. I don’t have the time or patience for your dress code.”