My Wife's Cruel Game Killed Me, Now She Begs at My Grave

"From the symptoms, he swallowed a lethal dose of chloride."

The police found my phone under the couch and scrolled through the contacts until they reached the number saved under "Wife."

When the call came through, Ronan had Tilda pinned to the bed in our bedroom.

Beneath them was the blue-gray bedding I'd picked out myself.

Our wedding photo still hung on the wall.

Seeing the unknown number flashing on the screen, Ronan snatched it up and hit accept.

"Am I speaking with Jack Delgado's family?"

"This is the Union Avenue Police Station."

He hung up before the voice on the other end could finish.

Tilda turned her head to glance at it, but Ronan simply added the number to the block list and tossed the phone onto the bed.

"Jack's still trying to give himself a way to save face."

"Paid somebody off somewhere to pretend they're from the police and call you."

Tilda let out a cold laugh.

"He's the one who sank this low, and he still has the nerve to make me come get him?"

"All these years married, and the one thing he actually learned was how to run little scams."

Ronan suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face against her, his voice thick with false feeling.

"Tilda, honestly, I envy Jack."

"He's lucky. Good family growing up, got into a good college, has a wife as good as you."

"Me, I've got nothing."

"Tilda, if you can't bear to let him go, then go bring him home."

Her hand rose, then dropped, and finally settled on Ronan's shoulder.

"You stay here tonight. The moment he crawls back, I'll divorce him."

Ronan looked overwhelmed by the favor, his eyes shining as he gazed at her.

"But what about Jack?"

"Jack and I are the closest of brothers…"

Tilda gave another cold laugh, pushing down the odd irritation stirring in her chest.

"If he likes climbing into other people's beds so much, he can just never come back."

"Doesn't he love money?"

"Give him a hundred grand. That squares us."

Five years of her youth.

More than eighteen hundred days and nights.

She'd bought it all out for a hundred thousand.

I was already dead.

And still, in that instant, my heart stopped for a second.

I dragged my mouth into a bitter smile.

Congratulations.

No divorce needed. Just widowed.

She saved the hundred grand to buy out the marriage, and even the ten dollars for two divorce certificates.

A flash of secret glee crossed Ronan's eyes.

His hands roamed over her, restless, until she caught them and pinned them still.

"It's late. You get some sleep first."

"I still have company business to handle."

Ronan held her tight from behind, his voice soft as water.

"But this room is full of Jack's things."

"It feels a little strange, staying here."

Her steps paused.

After a moment, she said it offhandedly.

"Anything you don't like the look of, just throw it out."

"From now on, you're the man of this house."

Ronan's eyes lit up, and he pointed at the row of cabinets by the bed.

"Can I throw these out too?"

Eagerly, he hauled out the box I'd hidden at the very back.

"Tilda, these look like things left over from when you two were dating."

I drifted over and looked.

Inside were nothing but worthless little things.

An instant ramen wrapper, a faded, warped mechanical watch, and a thick stack of stubs from an old cross-country train.

All keepsakes from back when Tilda and I were dating.

At our lowest, the two of us shared a single pack of instant ramen.

She only drank the broth and left all the noodles for me.

To save money, every business trip I took the cheapest cross-country train, standing eight hours at a stretch.