Recording His Final Confession

In my past life, my husband, Caleb, supposedly drowned at a yacht party on Lake Tahoe. His body was never found.

By the time I rushed to the marina, all that awaited me was a death notice from the police and the vast, black expanse of the lake.

My world shattered. I fell gravely ill, a sickness that ravaged both body and soul, and I never recovered.

On my deathbed, I was scrolling through my best friend Olivia's social media when I saw a vacation photo from the Bahamas. In the background, on a man's wrist, was the one-of-a-kind watch I’d had custom-made for Caleb.

The shock was the final blow. It killed me.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I received the call about my husband's death.

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1

"Chloe, you have to hold it together. Caleb may be gone, but you still have me. As your best friend, I will always be here for you."

From the moment I appeared in the private hospital room, Olivia Reed clung to me, her words a constant, soothing stream.

I gazed down at my own hands, my own feet, and realized—I had been given a second chance. I was sent back to the day my husband, Caleb Miller, had "died."

In my last life, I was in my studio, poring over design blueprints, when the news of Caleb's drowning at Lake Tahoe reached me. By the time I arrived at the marina, the search and rescue team claimed the strong currents had swept his body away.

Weeks of endless grief hollowed me out, body and soul. I eventually collapsed, overcome by a wracking cough and a broken heart. From that day on, I was bedridden.

To make matters worse, my mother-in-law, Sharon, hid my condition from my parents, insisted on taking me into her care, and then deliberately let my illness worsen by refusing me proper treatment.

Just as I was drawing my last breath, a vacation photo Olivia posted revealed the truth—on the wrist of a man, half-hidden in the background, was the limited-edition watch I had personally designed for Caleb.

In the photo, standing right next to my "deceased" husband, was my so-called best friend, Olivia.

...

I snapped back to the present, staring at Olivia's deceptively sincere face.

She must have known all along that Caleb wasn't dead. They had likely planned the whole thing, his fake death a ploy to escape with a massive lottery prize.

"Chloe, please, don't work yourself up. You're so fragile. The shock of Caleb's death... what if you completely collapse?"

I shrugged off Olivia’s hand, my voice unnervingly calm as I asked, "Where is his body? I want to see him."

Olivia blinked, thrown by my composure. She stammered, "At... at Lake Tahoe. The search and rescue team said the currents swept him away..."

I immediately picked up my phone and, in front of everyone, dialed a number. "Hello, Detective Marcus? This is Chloe Hayes. I don't believe my husband is dead, and I'm offering a one-million-dollar reward for information on his whereabouts."

Olivia tried to stop me, muttering platitudes about accepting reality, but I wasn't buying a word of it.

Gently pushing her aside, I continued into the phone, "That's right. One million in cash. I want him found, dead or alive. I need to see him with my own eyes—or see a body."

Less than two hours later, the private investigator called back. They had found a body downstream whose description was a perfect match for Caleb.

Without hesitation, I contacted the most exclusive funeral home in the city. "I need to arrange a cremation immediately. It has to be today."

Olivia's eyes widened in horror. "Isn't it too rash to cremate him so quickly?"

I shot her a cold glance. "He's been in the water for too long. Keeping the body around will only prolong the agony for those of us left behind."

"But Sharon hasn't even had a chance to see him one last time."

Olivia was pacing frantically, terrified I would have Caleb cremated before his mother could intervene. "Listen, she's old and her health isn't good. Seeing him in this state might be too much for her. We should wait."

She bit her lip and rushed off to call Caleb's mother.

I couldn't suppress a smirk. Go on. Try and stop me.

You want to play dead, Caleb? Fine. I'll call your bluff and send you to meet your maker for real.

Just as the funeral home's car arrived, Caleb's mother showed up, just in time to see the staff carrying out her son's body bag.

"You venomous bitch! The Miller family has had nothing but trouble since Caleb married you! You killed my son, and now you won't even let me see his body?"

She started making a scene the moment she arrived.

"Rushing to cremate him? What, you can't wait to collect his life insurance? You gold-digging bitch! You've shamed the Miller name. Why don't you just die with him?!"