My Husband Faked His Death, I Snapped

“Honey, your darling Victoria is back.”

Cedric caught Victoria as she stumbled into his arms. His voice was gentle as he spoke.

“You still can’t hold your liquor, yet you always drink too much. You’re going to have a headache again tomorrow.”

Victoria wrapped her hands around his chest, acting spoiled.

“I just want you to take care of me. Is that a crime?”

Cedric tapped her lightly on the forehead. His gaze was full of affection.

“You little troublemaker.”

His mother stood beside them, watching with a warm, satisfied smile.

I stood not far away, fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms. Blood dripped down, but I did not feel a thing.

One of them was my husband — Cedric Foster — the man I had been told died eight years ago during a mission.

The other was his mother, who was supposed to be in a long-term care facility as a vegetative patient.

Yet here they were — alive, well, and building a new family with another woman.

How ironic.

It was as though the past eight years of my life had been nothing but a cruel joke.

Cedric suddenly looked up.

Our eyes met.

I saw shock and panic flash across his face.

I thought he would explain.

Instead, he looked at me like a stranger.

His voice was cold and distant.

“Drop her off and leave. This isn’t a place for someone like you.”

I bit my lip hard, forcing back my tears.

My gaze drifted to the luxury car I had just parked outside, then to the brightly lit three-story villa in front of me.

I remembered how I had sold the first home we bought together just to pay off his debts and ended up living in a basement.

It was a place that reeked of mold every rainy season, where even stray dogs would not stay.

My mode of transportation changed from a car to a secondhand electric scooter.

My clothes were patched over and over until they barely held together.

My best friend felt sorry for me and often scolded me, “Are you seriously going to live like this? Is he even worth it?”

Now I realized she was right. I was foolish, and it was not worth it.

However, he had forgotten that everything I suffered was because of his fake death.

“Honey, don’t be so harsh. She’s just a female driver working late at night. It’s not easy.”

Victoria’s soft voice pulled me back.

“Still,” Then she added, “Your husband is really something, letting such a beautiful wife work like this. Doesn’t he feel bad at all?”

My eyes turned red as I looked at Cedric and asked in a cold voice, “Then tell me, honey. Do you feel bad?”

Cedric flinched so hard he squeezed Victoria’s hand.

Victoria gasped, “Ow, honey, what’s wrong? You’re hurting me.”

“Well.” Then she turned to me suspiciously.

“Why are you calling my husband ‘honey’?

“Are you two involved in something inappropriate?

“Cedric, you told me you loved me the most in this life, even more than your dead ex-wife.”

My breath caught for a moment.

So I was already his “dead ex-wife” in his eyes.

Cedric shot me a warning look, then quickly made up a lie.

“She must be talking to her husband on the phone. Don’t overthink things.”

The next second, he pulled out a thick stack of cash and threw it toward my face.

“Take the money and get out. Don’t dirty my house.”

The sharp edges of the bills cut across my cheek.

Before I could react, he had already carried Victoria into the villa and ordered the bodyguards to drag me away.

They threw me out like trash.

Even my electric scooter was smashed.

Then the sky opened up and a heavy downpour engulfed me.

When I saw myself in such a wretched state, I broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.

At that moment, my phone lit up with an unknown number.

[Elysia, I know you’ve been wronged. I’ll make it up to you someday.

[But don’t show up in front of her. I’ll meet you when the time is right.]

I stared at the message, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

My head throbbed violently. I could barely stand.

Just before my consciousness faded, I saw a familiar figure running toward me.