Gone Gray: My Husband After My Fake Death

My heart felt like it had been pierced straight through by a blade, the pain so sharp it stole my breath. I clamped both hands over my mouth, forcing myself not to cry.

I couldn't bring myself to keep watching, so I turned and ran. Unfortunately, I slipped in the process and crashed to the ground, eating a mouthful of snow while my skin tore open and blood flowed freely from the wound.

The searing pain finally broke the dam. All the grievances I had bottled up over the past few days surged out at once, and my tears fell in heavy drops.

After I cried until I had nothing left, I dragged my exhausted body back to the hospital.

Not long after, James rushed in. "Darling, my assistant said he couldn't find you when he came to bring your meal. Where did you go? Don't scare me. I'll lose my mind if I can't find you."

Would he really?

I glanced at the scratch marks on his chest and felt nothing but irony.

Looking away, I replied calmly, "I felt suffocated, so I went out to watch the snowfall for a bit."

Only then did James notice my reddened eyes. "Why are you crying? This is my fault. I've been too busy with work and ended up hurting you. Our fifth wedding anniversary is in three days. I'll throw you a grand celebration then and make it up to you properly, alright?"

I smiled when I heard that.

James took it as forgiveness and smiled back. What he didn't know was that I was smiling because three days later happened to be the day I had scheduled my staged death.

When the time came, I would give him a surprise he would never forget.

…

The next day, I checked out of the hospital. James drove me home.

As I got into the passenger seat, I immediately felt something was off. The seat was lower than usual.

When I looked closer, it had indeed been adjusted downward. That was when I noticed strands of brown hair tangled around the seatback.

My hair was blonde, while Cassandra's was brown. She was also half a head shorter than I was.

Evidently, she had been sitting there.

James noticed my pause and looked where I was staring. When his eyes fell on the brown hair I held, they twitched for a moment before settling back into calm.

"Darling, don't get the wrong idea. Morgan is away on a business trip. Before leaving, he asked me to look after Cassandra, so I've been driving her to and from work. That's why there's some hair left behind."

Hearing that only made my heart grow colder.

He had once told me this seat belonged to me alone and that no one else was allowed to touch it.

There had even been a time when a scheming coworker tried to use the chance to get close to James and sat in the passenger seat before I did. James had kicked her out without hesitation and said, "This seat is for my wife only."

And yet, he let Cassandra sit there, abandoning the rule he had strictly followed for me.

If he genuinely wanted to avoid suspicion, he could have sent a cab for her. Instead, he drove her himself and allowed her to take the passenger seat that had always belonged to me.

On top of that, two cartoon figurines sat pressed together on the dashboard in front of James's seat, marked with the initials JL and CW.

Cassandra had quietly taken my place, making herself the woman of this car without me even realizing it. I swallowed the bitterness rising in my chest and quietly fastened my seat belt, pretending nothing had happened.

I would be leaving soon, and whatever affection James and Cassandra shared was no longer my concern.