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My Fiancée Faked Her Death—But I Really Died
My Fiancée Faked Her Death—But I Really Died
Author: White Dew

Chapter 1

Author: White Dew
Yvonne's smile froze as she looked at me. "What do you mean there's no going back?"

Another painful spasm hit my stomach as I grabbed the guardrail tightly, blood rising in my throat. I murmured, "Exactly what I said."

Ernie tilted his head. "You're not mad, are you? I just wanted to see how much you really love Yvonne. Turns out you would die for her."

He laughed before anyone else could, and their friends gathering under the bridge joined in.

"Come on, Alex. Don't be a sore loser."

"Yvonne actually spent half an hour soaking in the river for this test."

"Ernie stayed up two nights planning it. You should thank him."

I turned to Yvonne. "You were hiding under the bridge the whole time?"

"I had a diving suit on. I was safe." She made it sound like nothing.

Over the past three days, her father had cried until he fainted at the funeral home. Her mother had smashed the framed photographs of my late parents. They had pointed their fingers in my face and called me a living, walking curse.

I had been on my knees in front of Yvonne's photograph, unable to get up until my knees were bloodied.

And all that time, she had been in a nearby hotel, watching the funeral home's security footage and waiting to see when I would break down.

"I kept vigil for you for three days."

Yvonne glanced down at my bloody knees and said, "It's over now. I'll have someone take care of your wounds when we get back."

Ernie suddenly grabbed his ankle. "Yvonne, I think I twisted my ankle running over here."

Yvonne immediately dropped the roses and crouched in front of him. She asked, "Can you walk?"

"It hurts a little," Ernie said.

"I'll take you to the hospital," Yvonne said, helping him toward the parking lot. Ernie then glanced back and winked at me, the wedding ring on his finger.

"Yvonne…" I called out.

She turned, impatient. "What now?"

"Your father saved that ring for your future husband…" I said.

She glanced at the ring. "It's not that big of a deal. Just let him wear it for a few days. He proved to me just how much you love me. I have to reward him with something."

Just yesterday, her father had slapped me seven times with the hand that had worn that ring. He had blamed me for his daughter's death and said I did not deserve to marry into his family.

Ernie shook his finger at me. "Don't be so petty. I'll put it on your finger myself on your wedding day."

I bent down and picked up the roses. A thorn pierced my palm, and blood dripped onto the white wrapping paper.

Yvonne frowned. "Are you ruining them on purpose? I picked those out at the florist first thing this morning."

She had remembered that Ernie liked champagne roses. She had forgotten I was allergic to rose pollen.

I tasted blood in my mouth again. I forced myself to ask, "Yvonne… What if I really do die here today…?"

Ernie burst out laughing. "You haven't even made it over the guardrail, and you're already talking about dying?"

Yvonne also laughed. "Don't try to scare me by talking about dying. The wedding's in three days. Go home and calm down."

She then helped Ernie toward the parking lot, and everyone followed.

Before the car door closed, Ernie stuck his head out. "That white suit looks great on you. Let me borrow it for some photos tomorrow."

After they drove away, I collapsed to my knees by the guardrail. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth onto my white suit.

My phone chimed.

Yvonne had sent two messages.

[Take a cab home.]

[Ernie hurt his ankle. There's no room in the car.]

Our conversation was still pinned at the top of my messages. In it was the message she'd sent three days earlier.

[Alex, wait for me. We'll get married when I get home.]

Someone ran over to help me, and I heard an ambulance approaching below the bridge.

As the paramedics cut open my sleeve, I called Yvonne. It took all my strength, but all I heard was Ernie laughing when the phone was picked up.

"Yvonne's checking me in at the hospital. Did you need something?"

I opened my mouth, but blood came out first.

Ernie waited a few seconds. "Alex, don't tell me you're pretending to be sick again. You didn't fool us last time, so now you're trying something else?"

Then he hung up.

Before the ambulance doors closed, someone asked, "Where's your family?"

I closed my eyes. "There's no one left."

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  • My Fiancée Faked Her Death—But I Really Died   Chapter 8

    The video of the prank was leaked out anyway. A wedding guest had apparently been livestreaming. Everything was recorded, from the staged death to the hospital's calls, from the police arriving to the officer producing my death certificate. Yvonne's family business lost several major partnerships because of it. The people who had staged the accident were also being investigated. The first time Ernie called Yvonne after he was taken into custody, he cried and begged her to find him a lawyer. She simply asked one question. "Did you laugh while Alex was kneeling in the funeral home?" Ernie fell silent. She hung up and never answered another call from him. Her father still believed I had killed myself just to get back at their family. He said, "If he'd taken poison, why didn't he tell us sooner? He did all this because he wanted you to regret it for the rest of your life." Yvonne moved everything that belonged to her family out of our new home. She only kept the mug I used,

  • My Fiancée Faked Her Death—But I Really Died   Chapter 7

    My funeral was scheduled for three days later. Yvonne wanted to bury me in her family's cemetery. A good friend of my family, Charles Smith, refused. When the hospital could not reach Yvonne or the Gomez family, he was the one who had come to collect my personal effects. He was my father's best friend when he was still alive. Yvonne blocked the funeral home entrance, holding that black traditional jacket. "I'm Alex's fiancée. He was supposed to be part of my family." Charles looked at her. "Did you finish the wedding ceremony?" She had no answer. Charles cornered her again. "Did you get legally married?" She tightened her grip on the jacket. "We didn't get the chance to." Charles yanked it from her arms. "Then you're not his family. You refused to be his family while he was alive. You don't get to decide where he's buried when he's dead." Yvonne's eyes reddened. "He loved me." Charles raised his hand and slapped her right on the face. "He loved you, so that gave all

  • My Fiancée Faked Her Death—But I Really Died   Chapter 6

    When Yvonne returned to the hotel, the wedding guests were still there. Her father was directing the staff to take down the large screen. "Nobody says a word about what happened today. Alex took that poison himself. It has nothing to do with our family." The police stopped the staff. "You can't delete any recordings yet. Three days ago, someone pushed an empty car into the river to stage an accident. That triggered a water rescue operation. Everyone involved in this prank needs to cooperate with the investigation." People in the hall began backing away. One by one, the friends who had been cheering earlier lowered their heads. Ernie's face paled. "I didn't push the car. I just came up with the idea. Yvonne agreed to test Alex." Yvonne stood in the doorway, still in her wedding dress. Dust from outside the morgue stained her dress. She growled, "You told me he wouldn't really die for me." Ernie's eyes became red. "How was I supposed to know he would really ingest poison? Wha

  • My Fiancée Faked Her Death—But I Really Died   Chapter 5

    Yvonne stared at the death certificate the officer held in his hand, unable to move. The video was still playing on the large screen. In the video, I was holding the bloodstained watch as I climbed over the guardrail. Ernie laughed. "I won. What's my reward?" Yvonne let him borrow the wedding ring. No one watching was laughing anymore. The officer walked over and signaled for the staff to turn off the large screen. "Yvonne, please come to the hospital with us to identify him." She pushed the death certificate back toward the officer. "There's no need for that. Alex is always throwing tantrums like this. He promised he would come here to marry me. He can't be dead." She took out her phone and dialed my number in front of the officer. The phone in the evidence bag rang. The ringtone was a short recording she had made for me in the past. "Alex, pick up the phone." Yvonne's face went pale. She called again, and her voice echoed through the banquet hall. "Alex, pick

  • My Fiancée Faked Her Death—But I Really Died   Chapter 4

    I never showed up for our wedding. At nine that morning, Yvonne called me for the first time. No one answered. At ten, the wedding cars pulled up outside the hotel. Her father could not find me, and he threw the bridal bouquet onto a table. "Who does he think he is? Yvonne, you're not going to pick him up. Give in today, and he'll walk all over this family after this!" Ernie wore his best man's suit. My wedding ring was still on his finger. "Don't get upset. Alex is definitely hiding nearby, just waiting for Yvonne to beg him to come out." Yvonne stared at her phone. Our conversation was still suspended on that single word. [OK.] Her anger flared again as she said, "He promised he would come. Let everyone wait." By eleven, all the guests had arrived. At eleven thirty, the officiant asked for the third time when the groom was arriving. Yvonne sent me more than a dozen messages. [Are you still throwing a tantrum?] [You have until noon.] [Come over right now, and

  • My Fiancée Faked Her Death—But I Really Died   Chapter 3

    The day before our wedding, which was also two days after my death, Yvonne brought Ernie into our new home. He took our engagement portrait off the wall as soon as he walked in. "We can put it back tomorrow. Let's test Alex again. Think he'll get jealous when he sees his portrait gone?" Yvonne caught the frame. "Don't break it." Ernie pouted. "I know you care about him." He stuffed the frame into a cardboard box and opened the closet. My wedding suit hung inside beside a black traditional dinner jacket. My father had made that jacket for himself before he passed away. He had been so ill he could barely hold a needle, and the stitches around the cuffs were uneven. When I tried on my wedding suit, he had held my hand. "I'll wear this during your wedding, Alex." He had not lived to see that day. Ernie pulled out the black jacket. "This thing's so old. What a bad omen for your new life after marriage." Yvonne glanced at it. "Alex's father left him that. Put it back." Er

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