When I walked down the aisle to marry Damian, I believed I was stepping into a fairytale. Yet, in an instant, that dream transformed into a heartbreaking nightmare. Only three days after his funeral, overwhelmed with sorrow, I decided I needed to escape the city. I called a taxi, and that’s when something extraordinary happened.
Settling into the backseat, I heard words that made my heart race.
“Fasten your seatbelt, please.”
The voice belonged to Damian.
Swiveling around, I locked eyes with the ghost of my deceased husband.
Hi, I’m Paige, a 28-year-old who once reveled in being a happy bride.
Damian and I crossed paths at a quaint café, where I worked part-time. He was the enigmatic man who always left generous tips, lost in a book while sipping coffee.
Never did I fathom he would notice me. But he did, and when he asked me out, it felt like stepping into a romantic film.
Our first date? A stroll on a pier, hand in hand beneath the moonlight.
A year later, we stood at the altar, vowing forever.
Little did I know that forever would end within a day.
The day we wed was the pinnacle of joy for me. Damian’s smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help but cry tears of joy as I read my vows.
Our happiness was abruptly shattered before we even reached the reception. Damian collapsed.
I thought it was a prank at first—a cheeky wedding-day joke. But as he lay still, panic erupted.
People rushed to assist. Paramedics arrived. I stood there, immobilized, watching their frantic attempts to revive him.
Nothing succeeded.
Hours later, amidst the cold sterility of a hospital, a doctor delivered the unimaginable news. Damian had passed away, a heart attack at only 32 years old.
How could a healthy man just die?
His family attended the funeral, a group I had met just once, enough to sense their disapproval of me.
They were wealthy, influential, and ruthless. Damian had warned me about their nature but held back details.
While standing by the casket, I heard his mother seethe into her phone:
“She was after his money and caused his death. Get our lawyer involved.”
Anger surged within me.
I wasn’t aware Damian even had wealth.
But anguish stifled my voice.
Grief overwhelmed me. My home became a prison of memories.
I needed an escape.
So, I grabbed my passport, tossed clothes into a suitcase, and called a taxi.
Sitting in the backseat, I gazed out the window, trying to steady my breath amidst the heartache.
Then, it happened.
“Fasten your seatbelt, please.”
My heart felt like it was going to burst.
That voice was unmistakable.
I turned my head so swiftly it made my neck throb.
There, staring back at me in the rearview mirror, were Damian’s unmistakably hazel eyes.
“Damian?” I asked, voice quivering. “How… how are you here? What’s happening?”
His grip tightened on the steering wheel. Then abruptly, he swerved the car onto an empty, quiet street.
Silence stretched between us momentarily.
Finally, he faced me and said the words that changed my life forever.
“I’m sorry, Paige. I know this is overwhelming. Please, don’t despise me.”
I sat there, dumbfounded, as Damian untangled an unfathomable truth.
He had faked his death.
Why?
Because his family, entrenched in corruption, sought to control or end him.
For years, they exploited him, leveraging his brilliance to expand their questionable empire.
When Damian wished to break free and create a legitimate business, they threatened him.
Then, he met me—and I became the pawn.
“They aimed to ruin us, Paige. I had to vanish.”
So he orchestrated the entire charade.
A fixer aided him, administering a drug that slowed his heart to an undetectable level.
A complicit doctor and a bribed funeral home completed the ruse.
“I never occupied that coffin,” Damian revealed, his tone grave. “They switched me out before the burial.”
I glared at him, my emotions torn between love and fury.
He allowed me to grieve. He put me through unimaginable pain.
“You LET ME THINK YOU WERE DEAD!” I shrieked when we finally reached home.
“I had no other choice!” he implored.
For hours, I screamed. I sobbed.
By morning, I was spent. Numb.
“What happens now?” I croaked.
Damian clarified that by feigning his demise, his family couldn’t touch his legitimate ventures. Everything transferred to me.
All I had to do was liquidate them and divide the proceeds with him.
Then, he would vanish—abroad, for a new start.
“Join me,” he softly urged. “I know I wounded you, but my actions were meant for us.”
Shaking my head, grappling with disbelief, I replied, “I can’t simply resume where we left off. I need time.”
He nodded in understanding. “I’ll wait, however long it takes.”
For weeks, I ignored his messages. But while handling the sale of his business and setting things in order, a realization dawned on me.
His actions were to shield me.
Reckless, foolish even. But also selfless.
And my love for him endured.
One evening, I picked up the phone and dialed.
“Paige?” Damian answered, his voice tinged with hope.
“Where are you?” I inquired. “I’ll come. Just promise to never deceive me like that again.”
Now, I find myself in a foreign land. The language is different, but the sea is just half an hour away.
I left everything behind, and every step was worth it.
Damian and I married once more, and this time, we truly celebrated.
His family will never discover us.
And our life together has been nothing short of wonderful.
