The Ashes of Eternal Love

The funeral procession had reached its final stage.

According to tradition, the daughter-in-law of the Graham family was supposed to serve as a pallbearer and throw soil onto the casket together with Wade.

At the same time, I, Wendy Johansen, received two messages on my phone.

One was from my best friend, Helen Jefferson.

[Wendy, don't overthink it. Those relatives are outsiders. They're just making wild guesses. Mr. Graham had always treated me like his own daughter.]

The other was from my husband, Wade Graham.

[Wendy, we're just avoiding suspicion. Now isn't the right time to make our relationship public.]

The truth was, I wasn't overthinking anything.

For the entire seven years of our marriage, everyone had always believed that Wade and Helen were a match made in heaven.

They had grown up together.

Whenever the three of us were together, I felt more like the unwanted third wheel tagging along with them.

I had lost my father when I was a teenager. During the seven years I was married into the Graham family, I treated Wade's father Wesley Graham as my own.

Every weekend, I would go to Graham Manor to play chess with him. Whenever he fell ill, I would take time off work to stay with him at the hospital.

For the past six months, I had even spent my days responding to calls as a police officer and returning to the hospital at night to care for Wesley who was in a coma. It was all so Wade could focus on his work without worrying.

By any measure, I was the one who should've been standing beside him now, but Wade had never acknowledged me in public.

He would even deliberately keep his distance from me to avoid suspicion. Everyone simply assumed I was Helen's best friend.

Now, Wade still wasn't going to say a word.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, he reached for some soil and handed a handful of it to Helen.

The two of them threw the soil together.

At that moment, my nose stung. I dug my nails into my palm until it went numb, yet I couldn't feel the pain.

It wasn't until the funeral ended and the crowd gradually dispersed that I finally walked toward the entrance. I stopped by a window at the end of the corridor to catch my breath.

I unexpectedly ran straight into Wade.

He was carrying a paper bag. When he reached me, he held it out.

"You haven't eaten anything yet, have you? Here. Have something to hold you over."

I looked down. It was a sandwich. I didn't take it.

Wade assumed I was throwing a tantrum and frowned as he explained, "Wendy, we agreed not to make our marriage public. We need to be even more careful about avoiding suspicion at a funeral like this."

Avoiding suspicion.

That phrase had defined our entire seven-year marriage.

Since we had to avoid suspicion, Wade couldn't even spare me an extra glance whenever he took over a case at the station.

Since we had to avoid suspicion, although we had been married for seven years, his colleagues all thought I was some shameless woman desperately chasing after him.

Since we had to avoid suspicion, I, his lawful wife, had to give up my place to my best friend. I couldn't even personally see my father-in-law off on his final journey.

I looked at him and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Wade, how far do I have to go to avoid suspicion? Do I have to let Helen pretend to be your wife too?"

Wade's expression darkened when he heard that.

"Wendy, watch what you say. Helen is your best friend. Don't drag her into our relationship."

The tip of my nose stung.

Wade didn't say anything else. He simply shoved the sandwich into my hands and walked away.

I looked down at it.

It was mango-and-cream flavored.

'Wade, you forgot again. I'm allergic to mangoes.'

Sunlight streamed through the glass window, making my eyes sting.

I leaned against the wall, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number.

"Linda, about that transfer to Hillton City you mentioned before, I've made up my mind. I'll take it."