Waking Up In A Tragic Novel To Send Everyone To Jail

The universe just hit the 'restart' buttonand dropped me into a nightmare. Specifically, I woke up as the tragic hero in one of those gut-wrenching Dead Husband romances.

The plot was classic: The hero is mentally and physically tortured, suffers a miscarriage (yes, the male version), has his eye dug out, his kidney removed, and dies miserably. Only then does the heroine realize he was innocent all along and lives to regret it forever.

I swear, what kind of lawless world is this? My eyes were practically spitting fire as I muttered curses and drifted off to sleep.

When I opened them again, I had transmigrated to the exact day the hero was framed by the heroines beloved "Golden Boy."

Oh, this is going to be fun. I grabbed my phone and quickly dialed three numbers: "Help! I was nearly murdered!"

Let's see if your twisted melodrama world has any police.

I came to with the faint, sterile smell of a hospital, wrinkling my nose instinctively. "Ugh."

A slender, striking figure in a floor-length crimson dress stood by the bed. Her voice was pure ice: "Youre awake. Stop playing dead and go apologize to Jasper."

That line. It was sickeningly familiar. Wasn't this the trashy novel Id been reading before I passed out?

Delaney Wells, beautiful and icy, was standing against the light, arms crossed, radiating self-righteous fury.

In the original story, Delaney and the hero, Callan Bishop, were married in name only. Callan had loved her for years, and Delaney, though moved by him, didn't realize her own feelings until her first love, Jasper Reid, came back to town.

Jasper, wanting to break them up and claim Delaney for himself, tried to drug her for a hookup. But a bizarre mix-up led to Delaney sleeping with Callan instead. Jasper quickly spun the narrative, accusing Callan of the drugging. Callan, a proud but stubborn man, couldn't defend himself effectively and was misunderstood as being deeply manipulative. That was the wedge that began their decline.

After that single night, Delaneys already low opinion of Callan plummeted. Jasper then deliberately sought out confrontation, sabotaging Callan's reputation and finally, shoving him down a flight of stairs.

And now Im supposed to apologize to the sociopath who nearly killed the original me? Absolutely not. I didnt come here to be a doormat.

I frowned, a snarl rising in my throat. "Apologize? Go to hell."

Delaneys eyes widened. "What?"

The momentary shock passed, replaced by a deeper scowl. "So you finally drop the act. Jasper was rightyour attentive, thoughtful persona was just a mask."

She stepped closer and grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "You clearly fell down the stairs yourself and now youre trying to pin it on him. He's wracked with guilthe hasn't eaten or slept since you were admitted. If you have an ounce of decency, you'll go apologize now."

Decency? I violently yanked my arm away. A sharp spike of pain shot through my leg, and the room spunthis body was seriously weak.

I lifted my gaze to meet hers and held out my hand. "Give me your phone."

Delaney frowned, noticing my pale complexion. A flicker of something that looked like pity crossed her face. She reached into her clutch, lecturing me as she did so: "Calling him is fine, I suppose, considering your condition. But you need to learn to control this temper, Callan, or"

I snatched the phone from her hand and, with absolute clarity, dialed three digits.

It connected instantly. I spoke in a calm, measured voice. "Hello, 911? I need to report an assault. Attempted murder, actually."

Delaney: Blinks.

The police were fast. Soon, two officers were standing by my bedside. I cleared my throat, then burst into a theatrical, heart-wrenching sob. "Officer, please! You have to help me!"

I pointed a trembling finger at the stunned Delaney. "My wife here is having an affair! Her lover pushed me down a flight of stairs! I fell from the topsobit was brutal! They tried to kill me!"

Delaneys face went white. Confronted by the officers severe, scrutinizing eyes, she stammered. "I... that's not... I didn't..."

"Delaney?"

Everyone turned. Jasper Reid was standing in the doorway, the quintessential Golden Boy in an all-white linen shirt, looking frail, delicate, and utterly innocent.

You have got to be kidding me. That pose should win an Oscar.

My eyes narrowed. No way am I letting this manipulative leech play the victim.

I ripped the IV out of the back of my hand, scrambled back to the headboard, pulled my hair into disarray, and shrieked. "NO! NO! It's him! The killer! Hes come back for me! Hes going to finish the job! Hes going to kill me!"

Jaspers carefully constructed expression of fragile concern faltered, freezing in an awkward half-step forward. Delaney started toward him, but the lead officer held up a hand. "Ma'am, the caller has accused both of you of assault and attempted murder. We need to take a statement and investigate. Please do not interact with the alleged victim."

Jasper: Confused, petrified silence.

Another officer approached to calm me down. I pretended to settle, huddling behind him, trembling. "He pushed me. I didn't even have time to scream before I was tumbling down."

Delaneys voice was strained and cold. "Callan Bishop! What on earth are you saying? You fell on your own! You're slandering Jasper, and calling the police? This is a waste of resources, you know thats a crime!"

I clutched the officers sleeve pitifully. "I promise, he pushed me. When we first got married, I installed a full security system on the estate for safety. Every corner of the house is on camera, Officer. Please, check the footage."

One officer nodded, took the address, and left with his colleague to retrieve the data.

Jasper was completely undone. Hed only dared to be so reckless because he knew the original Callan would be too stubborn and self-destructive to use evidence. He hadnt counted on the cameras.

Seriously, why was the original hero such a masochistic idiot?

The officers returned quickly. On the bodycam footage, the case was clear: Jasper aggressively closing the distance, reaching out, and shoving my shoulder, sending me flying down the stairs. Delaney, who rushed over after the noise, only saw Jasper kneeling beside me, looking distressed.

Jasper's knees gave out, and he crumpled to the hospital floor.

Delaney whispered, shaking her head. "No... it can't be... you actually pushed him?"

Jasper crawled toward her, grabbing the hem of her crimson dress. "Delaney, I messed up, Im sorry. I just wanted him to stop keeping us apart. I pushed him accidentally! Please, you have to forgive me!"

I couldn't stand it. "Are you out of your mind? Forgive you? You pushed me down the stairs! I'm the victim lying here in pain! You're apologizing to the wrong person, you pathetic fool!"

Jasper: Silence.

Delaney: Silence.

The Police: Deep, uncomfortable silence.

Oh, right. I forgot my "persona" for a second.

I quickly switched back to the victim role, clutching my injured leg and wailing. "The evidence is right there! Officer, this is a clear case of aggravated assault. I insist on pressing charges! Hes malicious and unpredictable. Im genuinely afraid he'll come after me again. The thought of falling from that height keeps me awake at night!"

Despite my truly awful acting, the facts were undeniable. Jasper Reid was taken into custody on suspicion of assault. He was looking at a minimum of two weeks in a cell.

Delaney stared blankly at me, then at Jasper's struggling form as the officers led him away. A look of utter bewilderment crossed her flawless face.

Oh, stop looking so lost, you idiot. Youre no saint either.

I settled back onto the pillows. "Delaney, I want a divorce."

Her lip trembled. "A divorce? On what grounds do you think you have the right to ask me for a divorce?"

...And there's the classic line.

I reached for the water glass on the nightstand and threw it, aiming at the wall behind her head.

"You think a trust fund and a good last name make you royalty? You can buy me out of my own life? Im telling you we are done! This is a legal right, not some damn favor you bestow! Im sending you the papers tomorrow, and if you dare fight me, Ill expose everything to the media! Were talking 'Wells Heiress, Adulterous Wife, Conspires with Lover to Murder Husband.' Enjoy watching your stock plummet and your board turn on you."

The glass shattered on the tile floor. Delaney stood frozen, her crimson dress now splattered with water, looking more disheveled than she probably had in her entire life.

Her bewildered gaze intensified. "Callan, you're not supposed to be like this."

I gave a cold laugh. "How am I supposed to be? Meek? Like the convenient husband who lets you and Jasper walk all over him? Who smiles politely while you two flirt? Who quietly accepts your abuse and physical harm? Go to hell. I'm not your toy, and Im definitely not your father."

Delaney walked out, looking utterly defeated.

A sharp, painful ache hit my chest. It was the original Callan's lingering grief.

Stop it, you pathetic fool. You're free now.

Jasper Reid ended up with two weeks in county jail for aggravated assault. I suspect Delaneys family used their influence to keep him from facing felony charges, but the police record was enough for my purposes.

The day after I called 911, I had a lawyer draft the divorce papers, making sure the division of marital assets was meticulously detailed.

I never understood why the male leads in these wealthy-family abuse novels always had to walk away with nothing, acting like they were too 'pure' to take their due. Its their right! They were abused and nearly murderedthey deserve every penny of their marital property, plus emotional distress damages.

Unfortunately, the divorce wasn't straightforward. Delaney refused to sign. After several attempts, she deployed her mothermy mother-in-lawto handle me.

Mrs. Wells arrived in a custom-tailored designer suit, sipping an artisanal latte with an air of refined disappointment. "I know Delaney was wrong," she began. "But in our world, Callan, elite marriages are often separate lives. We both know how things work. You brought the police into thisyou made an embarrassing scene. If the firm hadn't stepped in to kill the story, the scandal would have crashed our stock. You're being very immature."

I felt the bile rise. This level of hypocrisy was breathtaking.

Without a word, I picked up my own cup of coffee and tossed the contents straight onto her suit.

"Aaaah!"

Mrs. Wells screamed, her perfectly coiffed hair and the expensive fabric now soaked with dark brown liquid.

"Callan Bishop! Have you lost your mind?"

"I have! You and your sick family drove me to it! Your daughter cheats, then conspires with her lover to nearly kill her husband, and you sit here telling me to let bygones be bygones? Youre a fake!"

"You..."

"Me what? You failed to raise a decent daughter. She gets married and runs around with another man, nearly killing me in the process. You think you bear no responsibility, Mother?"

"I..."

"I what? You talk about 'separate lives' and 'elite arrangements'? I remember when your late husband ran around with those aspiring actresses. You nearly cried yourself into the hospital, threatening to bankrupt him! You can't preach water and drink wine. If you're so generous, why didn't you just officially welcome his mistress into your home?"

"He..."

"He nothing! I'm getting a divorce. The marital assets will be divided strictly according to the law. You won't cheat me out of a single dime. Im showing remarkable restraint by not suing you all for emotional distress."

Mrs. Wells face darkened. She was determined to regain control. She snapped, calling to a bodyguard hovering near the door. "Take this insolent man to the basement! I will teach him how to behave!"

Wait.

I suddenly remembered: this old harpy had a history of verbally abusing the original Callan, using 'teaching manners' as an excuse to lock him in the basement for days, torturing him both mentally and physically.

Illegal confinement, is it?

I whipped out my phone and dialed the number I now knew by heart911.

"Im at the Wells Estate in Greenwich! My mother-in-law is threatening to illegally confine me in the basement! Officer, please, I need help!"

Mrs. Wells stared at the phone in confusion. "What are you doing?"

I gave her a chilling smile. "Giving you a taste of a civilized society."

The police were, once again, astonishingly fast. The officer who arrived looked at me, then at Mrs. Wellswho was standing there with coffee dripping from her hair and dresswith a profound look of weary disappointment. "It's you two again."

I scrambled behind the officer. "Yes, its me! This old woman is my mother-in-law. She's trying to kidnap and lock me up just because I want to divorce her cheating daughter!"

The officer scowled at Mrs. Wells. "Ma'am, this is a nation of laws. You can't just limit someone's freedom. That's a felony."

Mrs. Wells sputtered, "I... I was just threatening him..."

"Nonsense! I knew she was up to no good, Officer. My recording started the moment I walked into the house!" I pulled out my phone and played the audio file at full volume, clearly capturing her order to the bodyguard.

Mrs. Wells: Silence.

The officer listened to the entire exchange, then fixed a cold, severe gaze on her. "You are not above the law. Threatening to restrict someone's movement is a serious offense."

Mrs. Wells, in her stained suit, her dignity shattered, was forced to stand there and take a 15-minute lecture on the legal repercussions of illegal detainment.

I knew the officers couldn't actually arrest her since no physical harm had been done, but a good legal lesson was enough for now.

As I left the estate with the police escort, the lead officer gave me a look that was both sympathetic and exhausted. "Hang in there. You'll get through this."

"Thank you, Officer. I appreciate it. And... I apologize in advance. You'll probably be hearing from me again."

I watched the patrol car pull away and muttered to myself, "God, the security of this country is truly something else."

Delaney's refusal to sign the divorce papers wasn't just my problem; it was driving Jasper Reid crazy, too.

He was acting like a nervous wreck, constantly finding ways to harass me. But since I wasn't the original, masochistic hero, I refused to play the victim.

He tried to retaliate by planting a venomous snake in my new apartment, hoping it would bite me.

But I'd anticipated this level of low-brow villainy. My new place was wired with cameras. They clearly captured the entire incident, allowing me to call 911 again. "Yes, it's me. Jasper Reid tried to kill me with a snake."

Then he moved to cyberwarfare: posting my private address, doxxing me, spreading nasty rumors online, and hiring trolls to attack me.

My response? The legal system, again. "Officer, Im being stalked, doxxed, and subjected to a targeted campaign of harassment. My mental health is severely affected. I have crippling anxiety and clear depressive tendencies."

Jasper Reid was promptly sent back to jail for another two weeks.

Those two weeks weren't exactly peaceful for me, either. Delaney, a dark cloud, started following me.

"What exactly do you want?" I was utterly exhausted by her presence and finally agreed to meet her at a coffee shop.

She looked significantly thinner, her exhaustion evident. I couldn't tell if she was angry that her obedient husband had suddenly gone 'mad' or heartbroken that her Golden Boy turned out to be a villain.

After the police lectured her mother, Delaney had called me in a rage, accusing me of disrespecting my elders. I'd verbally eviscerated her in response. She began a one-sided cold war, which I enjoyed immensely. But the moment Jasper went to jail for the snake incident, she unilaterally ended it.

Shes a mess.

She looked down at her coffee, then up at me. "I was wrong. I never imagined Jasper was capable of that. I apologize."

"Okay. Apology accepted. Are we done? I have things to do."

Delaneys eyes were red-rimmed. She studied me with a speculative look. "Callan, why do I feel like you've completely changed?"