I Faked My Death After My Husband Chose Her Over Me

Once inside the car, he started talking about tomorrow's plans, "I've arranged a surprise for your birthday. Once we have some downtime, maybe we should think about starting a family."

I listened quietly, my eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside the window, saying nothing in return.

As the car began to move, his phone rang.

He answered, his forehead wrinkling slightly, his voice carrying a note of apprehension.

I looked at him, maintaining a calm tone, "If you need to take care of something, you should go."

He paused briefly, "Sylvia, I..."

"It's fine, I'll wait for you on the yacht," I said.

I didn't see the caller ID, but I knew only one person could provoke such a reaction from him.

Once on the yacht alone, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through Jenna Dean's Instagram.

A newly uploaded photo popped up, captioned: "Success is sweeter with someone by your side, sharing late-night cookies and having conversations just for you. Thanks for always looking out for me."

The comments overflowed with admiration: "Your hubby treats you so well!" "That's what it means to truly pamper your wife!"

Yet, my eyes were drawn to the hand in the photo.

The wrist was adorned with a familiar silver bracelet—Axton's.

I dialed his number, only for Jenna to pick up.

"So late, what does my dear sister want by calling me? Trying to reach Axton, perhaps?" Jenna's voice was thick with sarcasm.

"Give it up; he's not coming home tonight. Looks like my lovely sister can't keep a man. I've handed him over, and still, you can't manage."

I hung up without a word and told the yacht staff, "Let's set sail."

"Aren't we waiting for anyone else?"

Softly, I answered, "No need to wait. It's just me."

The yacht glided forward, cutting through the midnight sea towards the open water.

Standing alone at the bow, I stared at the stars above, the chilly wind biting at my skin as starlight danced across the waves.

He never returned that night.

I leaned against the deck, lost in thought, memories of the past five years flooding back.

His kindness, his presence, his promises... every memory felt like a shard cutting through my heart, coming together to form only a broken image.

All the pretense, all the lies, seemed absurdly laughable now.

Before dawn, I dialed his number one last time.

The phone was off.

Staring at the screen, I set the phone to upload the video evidence of my painting at a scheduled time.

Once that was done, I moved to the stern, glancing one final time at the breaking light of dawn.

Then, I jumped, plunging into the icy depths of the sea.

Meanwhile, Axton hurriedly left Jenna’s place, saying, "I have to go. Tomorrow's her birthday, and I promised her we'd watch the sunrise together."

Jenna blocked him, frustrated, "Axton, I need you now..."

Axton shook his head, "No, not today."

Just then, his assistant rushed to him.

"Mr. Griffin, your wife jumped off the yacht!"