The Dead Husband Who Never Died

"Private life?"

"Don't listen to him. When that woman was bragging about your affair online, why didn't you say it was your private life then?"

"What happened after he ran away from the wedding? What did he do, and why did he run?"

I ignored Shane and continued.

"On the day of the wedding, the groom was a no-show. Ava Prescott became the city's laughingstock, an old woman played and abandoned by a poor boy from the sticks."

When Shane came back three days later, he knelt before me, begging for forgiveness.

He said he came from nothing and didn't know how to face so many people from high society.

He said he felt he didn't deserve me, which was why he couldn't show up.

He said he'd grown up watching his parents fight and that marriage terrified him.

He begged me for one more chance.

He promised he would never let me down again.

I looked into his red-rimmed eyes, and my heart softened.

"A wedding is just a ceremony," I told him. "It doesn't matter if we have one or not."

"As long as we're happy together, that's all that matters."

The next day, we registered our marriage without telling a soul.

Shane held me tight and whispered, "Ava, meeting you is the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. I'll love you for the rest of my life."

"From now on, I'll take care of you."

That was the happiest time of my life.

Until my father sponsored another student, a young woman named Claire Davis.

Shane, who had been swamped with work for months, suddenly had free time.

He started visiting my father's place daily, ostensibly to keep the old man company.

Sometimes when I came home, I would find Shane and Claire Davis sitting close together, deep in conversation.

They talked about the simplicity of the Rust Belt versus the selfish greed of New York, the rustic scenery of their hometowns versus the grime and chaos of the city.

The two of them hit it off instantly.

It was as if they were two halves of the same soul.

One day, he said to me,

"It's not very convenient for Claire to keep living at your father's place. I mean, your father is a single man and she's a young woman. Her staying there will cause talk. We should have Claire move out, and we can support her."

I frowned, a small thorn lodging itself in my heart.

My father was old, and besides, they weren't alone in the house. Our live-in housekeeper, Maria, was always there.

The way he said it made it sound like my father had ulterior motives for helping Claire.

I felt uneasy but agreed. After all, Shane had always been so grateful for the help he'd received.

"If you think that's best, you can handle it."

He personally rented an apartment for Claire in Brooklyn, saying he couldn't bear to see another girl from his background dependent on someone else's charity.

He even brought her into his company as an intern.

By then, I was three months pregnant.

Claire stood obediently by Shane's side, smiling at me.

"Ava, don't worry. I'll take good care of Shane."

At the time, I missed the blatant provocation in her eyes.

Until the day before Thanksgiving, when I went to his office to drop off a gift.

In Central Park, I saw them. Kissing passionately.

"Shane, do you and Ava kiss this passionately at home?" Claire asked, breathless.

Shane answered with a note of disdain, "Don't even bring her up. Ava's… different. Older. It's a lot of pressure. She's not like you—so alive."

The packages in my hands scattered across the pavement.

I froze, a fire igniting in my chest. I snatched up the pumpkin pie box and hurled it at them.

Shane immediately shielded Claire and shoved me away.

The ground was slick with a thin layer of ice, and I fell hard.

Shane looked down at me, his expression impatient and cold.

"Ava, are you done making a scene?"

"You're getting older, is this what happens? You turn into some kind of hysterical shrew? What the hell are you doing, making a scene out here?"

I stared up at Shane in disbelief.

I didn't have time for anger. Terror shot through me, and I immediately clutched at Shane. A sharp cramp twisted in my stomach.

"Just take me to the hospital, I'm begging you. Save our baby."

I saw a flicker of hesitation in Shane's eyes, but just as he started to step forward, Claire clung to his sleeve, crying out.

"Shane, I'm so scared… Was she trying to kill me just now? My stomach hurts…"

Shane held her, comforting her gently, then looked back at me, his face a cold mask.

"Ava, stop the act. You fell. Call an ambulance yourself."

With that, he walked away with Claire in his arms, not sparing me a second glance.

I passed out. I lay on the cold ground for twenty minutes until a passerby finally called an ambulance.