I Had A Funeral For My Prented-Dead Husband

I sat there, my hands trembling as the footage played. At the start of the month, Dante and Ariya entered the house, his arm draped possessively around her. They walked into our bedroom. On my bed. I watched, helplessly, as they consumed each other with desperate passion. Ariya, in my pajamas. Dante, kissing every inch of her body. An hour later, he left, carrying a pile of clothes. The second time, he swept Ariya into his arms in a princess carry, striding confidently into the house. On the sofa, Ariya wore that same satisfied expression. She looked directly at the camera. At me. A declaration. A victory. My fists clenched, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to tear me apart. A sharp knock broke my daze. I didn't want to answer. But it persisted, louder, more urgent. Finally, I took a shaky breath and stood up. I opened the door. There he was. Nill,Dante's cousin. His face grim, serious. "Cousin..." I whispered, my voice barely a breath. "What's wrong?" He didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Dante's not dead." A video flashed on my phone screen. Dante, sitting at a restaurant with Ariya, their eyes locked in an intimate gaze. My fingers trembled. Nill's voice cut through the silence. "Then why the hell are you arranging a funeral?" "Everyone said he was dead," I choked out. "I had to believe it. I... I had to prepare." Nill's silence was brief but thick with understanding. "Are you a widow now?" I nodded. "Cousin," he began again, his tone more gentle. "If you're still going ahead with this... I'll be there." "I'll be waiting," I said coldly. He sent me another video. I watched as Dante, livid, slammed his fist into a table. Ariya quickly tried to calm him, her hands pressing against his chest, her voice barely audible over the din of the surroundings. But then Dante softened. I saw it. His anger, melting in the quiet comfort of her embrace. She can calm him... Dante. The man who once made me pay for every misstep, every mistake. He used to let me suffer in silence, in his rage. I'd wait for him to cool off before daring to apologize, begging for his forgiveness. But now? Ariya could stop him in an instant. I closed my eyes, my heart sinking, and saved the videos. Then, the phone rang. Ariya's name flashed across the screen. I took a deep breath, answered it, and instantly, the loud music pierced my ears. "Selina!" she yelled. "Have you completely lost your mind?! You're planning a funeral for Dante?! Do you have any idea what you're doing?!" I could practically feel her stepping closer, her voice a razor. "I swear, if you don't cancel this ridiculous decision, when Dante gets back, you will regret it." Before she could say more, I cut the call and placed the phone down. I grabbed a plate of food and sat down to eat. For the first time in weeks, I felt... at peace. The next morning, I dialed Ariya's number. It rang. And rang. She finally picked up, her voice still sleepy, lazy. "What's up? What do you want?" I leaned back in my chair, the words dripping with venom. "I want you to come to Dante's funeral. After all, you're his best friend." Silence. Then a sharp intake of breath. "Selina..." She snarled. "You're his wife! He's still missing, and you're already giving up on him? You're planning a funeral for him when he could still be alive? Are you wishing him dead?!" I couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped. I reached into my bag, pulling out the death certificate. "He was lost in the ocean. I couldn't find him. So I declared him dead. You remember, right? Didn't you all tell me to move on?" "When the news came... I was a wreck. Almost passed out. When I woke up, all of Dante's 'friends' were there, surrounding me." "The place Dante disappeared is too dangerous. You should stop searching." "Yeah, just let him go. It's hopeless." At the time, I hadn't realized... the look in their eyes. The mockery. Ariya's voice snapped me back to reality. "Don't think for a second I don't know what you're doing, Selina. No matter what happens when Dante comes back, he won't let you off the hook." I smiled, cold and detached. "I'm not worried."