My Husband Faked His Death Chapter 01

My Husband Faked His Death Chapter 01

Three months after my husband went missing in a skiing accident, I saw him at a bar.
He had his arm around his “female buddy,” laughing carelessly. “Thanks for the advice. I almost forgot what freedom felt like.”
His buddies kept raising their glasses, asking when he would reappear.
He looked down, thinking for a moment. “About a week. Let her go crazy looking for me first.”
I stood in the shadows, watching him enjoy his freedom. Then I called a friend who works at the Social Security Administration.
“I’ve decided to have Jake declared dead.”
……
“You’re giving up?” my friend asked hesitantly.
I looked up at Jake Sullivan, who was whispering something in Lily’s ear.
My eyes stung, and my voice cracked. “He’s gone.”
What’s the point of finding someone who doesn’t want to be found?
After hanging up, I went back to our private room. My best friend Emma saw my face and pressed a drink into my hand.
“Mia, Jake’s been missing for three months. There’s almost no chance he’s alive. You need to move on.”
I looked down at the colorful drink, downed it in one gulp.
The sharp burn brought tears to my eyes. I blinked hard, swallowing the pain, and asked softly, “Would anyone fake their own death to get away from their wife?”
Emma looked at me with exasperation. “What are you talking about? Anyone who does that is a beast, worse than dead.”
I wiped my tears, grabbed my purse from the sofa. “You’re right. I need to let Jake go.”
I turned and left, heading home.
The house was as quiet as ever. For three months, I had dreaded that silence.
Every time I came home, I turned on all the lights and brewed a cup of Jake’s favorite tea, setting it on the coffee table to pretend he was still there.
I didn’t understand. If he didn’t want to stay married, he could have just asked for a divorce. Why fake a skiing accident?
I sat on the couch and picked up the two cartoon figurines of us that sat on the coffee table.
Jake had leaned against me, pointing at them with a smile. “When I’m not around, let them keep you company.”
Those words echoed against his impatient voice from the bar today. “Mia used to be sweet and gentle, but after marriage she got so clingy. This fake death is a lesson for her, so she won’t be so needy.”
Beside him, Lily had poured him a drink. “Aren’t I better? We’ve been buddies all these years, and I’ve never clung to you.”
“Right, right. You’re my best brother.”
They talked like “good buddies,” but their legs were tangled together.
The image made my stomach turn.
I threw the figurines into the trash and sent a group text: “Jake Sullivan passed away in an accident three months ago. A memorial service will be held in one week.”