My Husband Faked His Death for Love, and I Went with It

“You seem eager to have your family dead.”

Judy and Lyra looked embarrassed.

I told the funeral home staff member, “Since we know it’s Hank, we can have him cremated today.”

The cremation seemed to put Judy at ease as she heaved relief.

Without a body, the police investigation was dead in the water.

However, I was far from finished.

The staff member gave me an urn. As soon as we left the funeral home, I scattered the ashes right in front of Judy and Lyra.

“You!”

Judy put a finger up my face, too furious for words.

Lyra rushed over to calm Judy down. “How dare you do this to Hank, Rochelle! I will never forgive you!”

“Who cares if it’s dirt or ashes? He’s gone. I’m better off scattering his ashes and be done with it.”

I ditched them and went to the police station.

With the death certificate in hand, I asked the police officer on duty, only for him to verify and confirm Hank’s death.

I felt discouraged.

On second thought, things worked out for the best.

The presence of Hank’s name and personal details on the document was proof that he was dead.

I went to the detective on the case, and he gave me an account of the situation.

“The victim’s mother and sister arrived on the scene not long after us.

“He had his phone and driver’s license on him, but to cover our bases, the victim’s mother confirmed he was Hank Johnson by his birthmark.”

I scoffed to myself.

As Hank’s wife, I knew him too well.

Hank did not have any birthmarks on him.

Leaving me out of the loop, Judy substituted an unidentified body for Hank’s.

“Officer, did my mother-in-law sign a civil settlement agreement with the driver involved?”

With the police officer nodding, I said, “I won’t agree to a settlement! I’m his wife, and I want the killer to face the law!”

The police officer told me that the driver was Benedict Dunn, a man from a tiny town in Hunton.

I kept the name in mind.

That day, I filed for a change in marital status.

Fortunately, Hank did not own any assets.

All the property I owned, including the house and the car, was acquired before our marriage.

Ironically, I should thank his deceitful affection.

Hank was at the lowest point of his career and love life when I first met him.

His startup went under, wiping out his savings and ruining him financially. Even his old flame, Claudia, left him and went abroad.

I worked two jobs, scrimped and saved, and paid off his debts. With the remaining money, I started a small business.

The long hours I spent in the kitchen covered me in grime and grease constantly. My cooking and food prices were decent enough that I opened another outlet in two years.

Five years passed then, and I grew a 100-sq-ft joint into a successful franchise in Hunton.

Hank proposed to me with a diamond ring.

He said that he owed everything to me. Without me, he was nothing.

I was his savior, his hope.

He was glad to leave everything in his name to me.

What difference did it make? He chose to betray me in the end.

Hank didn’t even have the courage to file for divorce. He rather faked his death to deceive me.

Of all the routes he could have taken, Hank decided to pin his death on me.

Thank God I was given another chance. This time, I would make them pay for what they had done.