I Had A Funeral For My Prented-Dead Husband
In the first month after my husband went missing while diving, I saw him kissing Ariya passionately from upstairs.
I stood in the shadows, watching him enjoy his freedom, my heart shattered.
Then, I organized a grand funeral for him.
His cousin, Nill, was there. When my ex husband found out about my relationship with him, he completely broke down.
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Chapter 3
The phone argument echoed through the room, the sound sharp and frantic.
I got his death certificate.
Dante finally lost control. But I refused to let him find me.
With my pre-packed luggage in hand, I moved into my sister's house. I didn't leave for days, only coming out to prepare for the funeral.
The moment my sister entered, she couldn't hide her smugness. "I heard someone's losing their mind. The entire city's been hunting for you like you've disappeared off the face of the earth!"
I sat on the sofa, glancing at the missing persons notice.
A smirk tugged at my lips. "Let them search. I never planned on being found. He said he'd only show up if I lost my mind. Now, look at him-losing it himself. Sounds like he's the one who's gone mad."
She gasped, throwing her hands up in frustration. "I don't even know what to say anymore! How could anyone be so selfish?"
"Enough. Today is my husband's funeral. You should act like you're mourning."
With that, I grabbed my makeup bag, my hands trembling as I used concealer to mask the redness around my eyes, turning my face into a portrait of sorrow.
"Does this look convincing?" I asked, checking myself in the mirror.
My sister eyed me, nodding with approval. "You look perfect-like someone who's lost everything."
The two of us left for the funeral.
I sent the video of Dante, alive and well, to my sister, instructing her to play it when the time came.
Nill arrived first, stepping in with his black suit, his face a mask of cold professionalism. He handed me a wreath, his voice steady. "My condolences."
Then came the classmates, looking every bit the part of mourners, their eyes wide with feigned sadness. Seeing their fake sympathy made my stomach churn, but I kept my composure.
Family followed-my heart ached as I saw their grief. Yet, somewhere deep inside, a bitter taste lingered. Dante, what have you done? All this pain-just to escape for a moment?
The last to arrive were his "brothers"-each of them glaring, faces twisted with disdain.
One of them, seemingly brimming with anger, yanked me aside.
"Sis-in-law, this has to stop! Dante isn't dead! He's been searching for you nonstop! You've seen the TikTok, right?!"
I blinked, fighting back the urge to cry. "Don't comfort me. That TikTok was Ariya's doing."
"Why are you doing this?" he shouted. "You can't just pretend he's gone!"
I held my ground, forcing the words out through a clenched jaw. "Once someone is dead to me, they are gone for good. I'm not holding onto any hope."
He tried to speak again, but I caught my sister's eye. She rushed over, pulling him aside. I gave her a silent thanks.
A voice cracked through my quiet, "Dante... Why did you leave me?" My eyes burned, my voice almost breaking.
But before I could continue, a shrill, furious scream cut me off.
"Selina! Are you out of your mind?! I told you-Dante isn't dead!"
Ariya, her eyes filled with rage, stomped toward me.
"Dante's been gone for a month, and you're already holding a funeral?! You're burying him without even knowing what happened!" Her hands shook as she grabbed my arm, her grip tightening.
I glanced behind her-no sign of Dante. Still, I stood firm.
"How could you?" Ariya spat. "Dante loved you more than anything, and you just... gave up on him? Just like that?"
Her voice dripped with accusation.
I looked at her, a quiet smile curling on my lips. "Even if he's alive, a man who betrays me isn't worth a second of my time."
The door creaked open, and there he was. A shadow in the doorway, disheveled, barely recognizable. His clothes hung loosely on him, his face gaunt, eyes wild.
"Dante?" Ariya's voice cracked, and she stumbled back, her face pale. "No... No, it can't be you."
He swallowed, gasping for breath. "Wife... I'm not dead... I'm back."
Ariya's scream pierced the air, but Dante didn't even flinch. He staggered towards me, his voice hoarse.
"I'm sorry... I was trying to... ... but I couldn't leave you behind."
The room fell silent. Everyone stood frozen.
"You didn't think about the consequences," I said, my voice trembling with a mix of fury and hurt. "You thought you could just run away, and everything would be fine. Well, look around you. It's not fine."
Dante reached out, his hands shaking. "I-I didn't want this, Selina. I never wanted this."
My sister, still in shock, whispered, "You can't just show up like this... after everything..."
But I shook my head, stepping closer to Dante, locking eyes with him. "No more excuses. You don't get to walk back into my life like nothing happened."
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9.5
Blaire's mother gave her a ruthless ultimatum: find a husband today, or never call her mother again.
Desperate to escape the suffocating control and disastrous blind dates, Blaire agreed to a fake marriage with a stranger she met through an old woman.
She thought she was marrying a dirt-poor salesman drowning in mortgage debt.
They lived in a rundown Queens apartment and split the living expenses fifty-fifty.
He drove a sputtering Toyota Camry, established extreme territorial rules, and treated her like a gold-digging biohazard.
When she accidentally tripped and spilled hot soup on him, he didn't help her up, instead accusing her of using pathetic tricks to seduce him.
Her own mother even crashed their apartment, ruthlessly mocking his pathetic financial state and calling him a total loser.
Blaire endured his coldness and extreme germaphobia, genuinely pitying him for his stressful, low-paying job.
She refunded his money and defended his dignity, refusing to take advantage of a struggling man.
But she couldn't understand why this supposedly broke guy possessed such a lethal, commanding aura, or why an incredibly expensive cashmere blanket mysteriously appeared on her when she was freezing on the couch.
Until her brother called with a shocking warning.
"Blaire, the name on your marriage certificate belongs to the notoriously secretive billionaire CEO of New York's top financial syndicate!"
Blaire laughed out loud, completely unaware that behind the bedroom door, her "broke" husband was frantically ordering his PR team to bury his true identity.
9.7
For three years, Natalie gave everything to be the perfect wife and mother, believing her love and effort could finally earn her a place in their hearts.
Yet her sacrifices were met with betrayal from her husband and cold rejection from her son.
In their eyes, she was nothing but a manipulator, using vulnerability to get her way.
Her husband turned his back, her son misunderstood her, and she never truly belonged.
Heartbroken yet determined, Natalie left her old life behind.
When her family finally begged for a second chance, she looked at them and said, "It's too late."
7.3
The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.
8.0
Tentu, saya akan menambahkan POV (Point of View) ke setiap bab sesuai dengan permintaan Anda, tanpa mengubah format atau konten lainnya.
On the day my daughter turned five, my husband Carter finally came home-with his mistress and a child who looked exactly like him.
He introduced me as the "mother of his child," not his wife, while my own parents fawned over his illegitimate daughter to secure a business merger.
I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, leaving me with months to live, yet no one cared.
The breaking point wasn't my illness, but seeing Carter slap our daughter across the face because she refused to give her first-place ribbon to his mistress's child.
"She disrespected me! I have a right to discipline my own daughter!"
He thinks I' m just a dying, discarded wife who will fade away quietly to make room for his new family.
He' s wrong.
I have three months left to live, and I' m going to spend every second of it burning his empire to the ground.
My funeral will be the stage for his destruction.
9.0
As the building crumbled around us, my husband, a paramedic, held the only oxygen mask.
He gave it to his high school sweetheart, not to me, his wife who was struggling to breathe.
Pinned under a beam, I gasped that I was pregnant. He told me to stop being dramatic and left me to die, taking our son with him. My own son agreed, telling his father I always "bounce back."
I lost our baby, alone in a hospital room, while they fussed over her "anxiety attack" across the hall. They had chosen her, leaving me and our child in the rubble without a second thought.
When he finally confronted me, it wasn't to apologize, but to demand I stop my "games." So I gave him exactly what he and our son had wished for.
"I'm divorcing you," I said calmly. "And you can have Jax. I no longer want to be his mother."
9.2
He became crippled because of me,but I ran away from the man I loved...and fell into the arms of his father.
One reckless night with a stranger should have ended there, until I learned the stranger was Lucien Sinclair, the self-made billionaire CEO of the Sinclair Empire.
My ex-boyfriend's father.
Now I'm trapped in a contract marriage with a devil, who forces me to watch my past and present collide under the same roof.
And betrayal? It's my daily dose...especially when my best friend steals my husband right before my eyes.
Then the nightmare turns fatal.
I'm pregnant... with twins.
One child belongs to the father.
The other belongs to the son.
No matter who I choose......someone I love will burn.