Her Wedding, and I Returned as a Ghost

I was walking down the street when I spotted two of my wife's childhood friends, guys she hadn't seen in years. I was about to step forward and say hello when their conversation caught my ear.

I'm so glad Brooke is finally getting her happy ending and marrying again.

No kidding. Her ex-husband was such a tragic, short-lived guy. Died right after they got married.

I froze in my tracks, completely bewildered.

I was standing right there, breathing, perfectly healthy. How on earth was I dead? And what did they mean, marrying again?

Brooke and I had been married for five years, and our son was almost three. Who was she marrying?

As I listened further, I caught the groom's name: John. He wasn't anyone I knew.

I quietly noted down the wedding venue and the date before slipping away unnoticed.

When the weekend arrived, I drove to the hotel address they had mentioned. The venue was buzzing, packed with elegant guests.

I walked up to the guest registry on the groom's side and tossed a two-hundred-dollar check onto the table.

The registry clerk picked up his pen and looked at me. "Under what name, sir?"

I bared my teeth in a cold smile. "Just write: the resurrected ex-husband."

The clerk frowned, shooting me an annoyed look. "It's a wedding day, sir. Why say something so cursed?"

I didn't answer. I turned around and saw a massive, life-sized wedding portrait standing near the entrance.

The woman in the stunning white gown was indeed my wife, Brooke. The man standing beside her, holding her waist, was a complete stranger.

The portrait looked incredibly expensive, shot in an elite studio.

Years ago, I had suggested we go to a high-end studio for our wedding photos. But Brooke had dismissed the idea.

"Wedding photos are just a pointless formality, Luke," she had told me, wrapping her arms around my neck. "There's no point in wasting money on them. As long as we love each other and build a good life, that's what matters."

In the end, she had chosen a dingy little local studio down the street, opting for their cheapest package.

Looking around the ballroom, I spotted several familiar faces, all of them Brooke's relatives.

I couldn't believe she had the audacity to pull off something like this, openly committing bigamy right in front of her entire family.

Then, my gaze drifted toward the VIP head table, and my blood ran entirely cold. Seated at the head table on the bride's side were none other than Brooke's parents, my mother-in-law and father-in-law.

Relative after relative walked up to congratulate them, and my in-laws practically beamed with pride, their faces glowing as they laughed.

Fragments of their conversation floated over to where I stood.

"John is such a wonderful man. He's going to bring Brooke so much luck. You two are going to be living in luxury from now on!"

My mother-in-law grinned so wide her eyes squinted. "Oh, absolutely! Ever since Brooke met him, her life has been getting better by the day. Not like her first husband. That one had no luck, died so young, a total curse to our family. Well, let's not speak of that deadweight on such a beautiful day..."

Her words sliced straight through my chest.

All these years, I had treated them with the utmost respect, supporting them financially and emotionally, only to be dismissed as a "curse" and a "deadweight." If I had really brought them bad luck, they wouldn't even be sitting here enjoying this luxury.

My father-in-law nodded in agreement. "I never approved of Brooke marrying him in the first place!"

Who? Me?

"Oh, come on," my mother-in-law whispered back, waving a hand. "The only reason we let him into the family was because of the generous financial gift he gave us. Otherwise, he wouldn't have stood a chance."

"What good was that money? He was just an easy target, a fool. This new son-in-law is much more to our liking."

So, when I had doubled my financial gift to her family out of sympathy for their struggles, I had actually made myself a laughingstock. To them, I was just a fool to be exploited, and they despised me for it.

Meanwhile, John had apparently demanded a massive $88,000 dowry from them, and they were thrilled to pay it.

The sheer injustice of it made my head spin. I wanted to march over and tear down their table, but I forced myself to stay calm.

This debt would be settled soon enough.

I turned and walked out of the banquet hall.

Near the entrance, the groom was standing with his groomsmen, straightening his tie and preparing for the ceremony.

When John saw me coming out, he offered me a warm, friendly smile. "Hey, you must be one of Brooke's colleagues!"

My mind screamed at me to blurt out the truth, but I swallowed the urge and gave a quiet nod. "Yeah."

One of the groomsmen grabbed John's wrist, staring enviously at the gleaming watch on his arm. "Man, John, you hit the jackpot. Brooke really splurged on you. That watch has to be worth at least six figures, right?"

"She insisted on buying it," John said, running a finger over the watch face, a proud smile stretching across his lips. "She said a wedding only happens once, so we had to get the absolute best."

It felt like a physical blow to my chest.

When Brooke and I married, we had nothing. I had suggested buying a modest pair of diamond bands, just as a symbol of our commitment.

But she had laughed it off. "Why waste money on those shiny rocks? We can't eat them, and you're not a shallow, materialistic guy, Luke."

Seeing my disappointment, she had hugged me and whispered, "Once my salary goes up, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

As her career took off and her income climbed, she did keep her promise in a way. Every year, when she received her annual bonus, she would buy a small gold bar and hand it to me, telling me it was security for me and our son.

But wait. Where did she get the money to buy John a six-figure watch?

Every month, she handed her salary over to me, and her annual bonuses were accounted for.

As I stood there puzzled, another groomsman let out a sigh of admiration. "I heard your wife's company is doing incredibly well. She gets over a million dollars in profit-sharing dividends every year. She could buy you ten of those watches and not even feel it."

Profit-sharing dividends?

We had been married for six years, and I had absolutely no idea she owned shares in her company.

I had seen her monthly pay stubs. Her net monthly salary was 0-08,000. She handed me 0-05,000 every month for our family expenses, keeping $3,000 for her personal use. I had never questioned it.

And yet, she was secretly pulling in over a million dollars a year in dividends.

John suddenly turned his gaze back to me. "Hey, since you work with her, you must have an idea of what she actually pulls in. Come on, give me a ballpark figure, just so she doesn't hide any secret accounts from me."

It felt like a blunt knife was sawing through my heart.

How much did she make? He knew her financial power far better than I did.

She was pouring her massive fortune into this man, buying him luxury watches I could only dream of. I was just learning about her million-dollar dividends, and here he was, asking me how much she made.

The muscles in my jaw twitched, and I struggled to maintain a calm expression.

Sensing my sudden tension, John quickly tried to ease the awkwardness. "Oh, maybe you don't know the executive payroll details. No worries. I've met most of her colleagues before, but you're a new face. Did you join the company recently?"

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. "Yeah, I'm fairly new. I don't really know her exact income details."

One of the groomsmen chuckled, nudging John. "Man, your woman is perfect. Beautiful, wealthy, and madly in love with you. She even quit smoking for you."

John let out a proud laugh.

I nearly dropped my phone.

Years ago, during her pregnancy, her morning sickness had been terrible, and the smell of smoke made me so nauseous I couldn't sleep. I had begged her to quit, but she insisted she needed to smoke for networking and work stress.

Then, three months ago, she suddenly threw all her cigarettes into the trash. She had told me she was doing it for my health and our son's, because she felt guilty about making us inhale secondhand smoke.

I had been deeply moved.

But she hadn't quit for us. She had quit for him.

John gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry about them, man. They like to joke around."

With a storm raging in my chest, the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Are you really that sure about her? How do you know she doesn't have a whole second life somewhere else?"

John's smile faded, and he stared at me, bewildered. "What is that supposed to mean?"

The groomsmen bristled immediately. "Hey, man. Just because your own wife cheated on you doesn't mean you should try to ruin someone else's wedding."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Actually, you hit the nail right on the head."

John looked at me with a touch of pity and superiority. "My Brooke isn't like your wife. She would never betray me."

"Is that so? If she's so loyal and perfect, why isn't she here yet?"

"Oh, some of her old college friends flew in this morning. She went to the airport to pick them up. She'll be back any minute."

Right on cue, his phone rang. He swiped to answer, a warm smile returning to his face. "Hey, sweetie! Where are you?"

The groomsmen fell silent, and her voice drifted clearly through the speaker. "Almost there, honey. I'm just so excited to finally marry you today."

John blushed, laughing softly. "Just focus on driving, okay? Be safe."

The groomsmen immediately began to tease him. "Oh, look at you two! Five years together and you're still acting like newlyweds."

"Well, we have to make the most of it," John said defensively. "Since we only get to spend half the year together anyway."

The words struck me like a physical blow, leaving my ears ringing.

They had been together for five years.

I couldn't decide if I was incredibly stupid, or if she was just a master of deception.

No, she wasn't a genius. I had simply trusted her too much.

I had believed her when she told me that her company required rotating regional assignments for her to get promoted, meaning she had to travel out of state every other month.

I had supported her, proud of her career ambitions. I had taken on everything at home, caring for our son, cooking, cleaning, and working my own job, never complaining once.

When our son had a high fever in the middle of the night, I had sat alone in the emergency room until dawn, cradling him in my arms. I hadn't even dared to call her, terrified of disrupting her sleep during her "demanding business trips."

But she wasn't working. She was playing house with another man.

The groomsmen continued to lament their own single status. "Seriously, she's perfect. Gorgeous, rich, sweet, and she even cooks for you? Life is so unfair!"

"Yeah, come on, she has to have at least one flaw! Give us something to make us feel better!"

John laughed as they nudged him. "Well, if I had to name one... she's obsessed with making me healthy soup. She wakes up at the crack of dawn every single morning just to brew it fresh for me."

The guys groaned at his bragging, but the words felt like another knife twisting in my heart.

Every morning.

In our six years of marriage, Brooke had never made me breakfast once. Not a single time.

When she was pregnant and could barely bend over, I was the one waking up early to cook for her. She had always told me she hated cooking and was terrible at it, and I had believed her, assuming she just lacked the skill.

It wasn't a lack of talent. It was a lack of love.

I stood there as the cold truth washed over me, freezing me to the bone.

The groomsmen insisted John was just showing off and demanded a real flaw.

John bit his lip, his expression suddenly turning solemn. "Actually, there is one thing. But you guys have to promise never to bring it up in front of her."

"Brooke was married once before."

"Her ex-husband and her son... they were killed in a terrible car accident two years ago. It completely broke her, and she still gets emotional about it."

The blood rushed to my head, and my knuckles cracked as I clenched my fists.

Her lies hadn't just killed me off. She had killed our son too.

Our beautiful, sweet little boy, who had just cuddled with her yesterday, whispering how much he loved his mommy. To clear the way for her new life, she had wiped his very existence from the earth.

The sheer, cold-hearted selfishness of it made me tremble. I couldn't let her get away with this. Not for my sake, and certainly not for Toby's.

I was about to step forward when my phone vibrated in my pocket. The screen showed my mother-in-law's name.

I stepped back into the quiet hallway to take the call.

"Luke," her voice rushed through the receiver, sharp and demanding. "I need you to wire me $88,000 right now. It's an emergency."

"What kind of emergency requires eighty-eight thousand dollars, Mom?"

"I told you before, your father and I are helping plan a wedding for some close family friends. They want to adopt us as godparents, and we need to present them with a traditional blessing gift. Eighty-eight thousand is a lucky number. Just wire it over quickly, we're waiting on it."

A godparent blessing gift of eighty-eight thousand dollars?

It didn't take a genius to realize that this was the dowry gift they owed John.

They were using my hard-earned money to fund my wife's second wedding.

When Brooke and I married, my mother-in-law had given me a measly 0-0,800 welcoming gift. Now that it was John, the price had skyrocketed.

Controlling the rage in my voice, I said, "Is this new godson planning to pay for your funeral expenses, Mom?"

Her voice instantly turned icy. "What is wrong with you? Why are you talking about funerals at a time like this? Do you have no manners?"

"I've never heard of a godparent gift costing eighty-eight thousand dollars," I replied coldly. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to pay a new son-in-law his welcoming dowry."

The line went dead silent.

After a long pause, she exploded into a scream. "How dare you speak to me like that! You always play the obedient, respectful son-in-law, but the moment we ask for a little help, you show your true, greedy colors! Let me tell you something, Luke. This is my daughter's money, and we can spend it however we damn well please! You have no right to lecture me!"

"Your daughter makes eighteen thousand a month and hands fifteen of it over to me," I snapped back, refusing to back down. "We have a mortgage, car payments, and a toddler to raise. And don't forget, I work too, and my income is just as high as hers."

She let out a harsh scoff. "Fine. You think you're so smart."

She slammed the phone down, ending the call.

I straightened my collar and walked back toward the groom's suite, only to hear John's voice drifting out.

"Brooke's mom said they're skipping the cash dowry and giving me five gold bars instead. I've never heard of a wedding gift like that before. Quite a surprise."

My chest tightened.

Five gold bars.

Those were the exact gold bars Brooke had given me over the years as compensation for my missing wedding ring. The numbers matched perfectly.

The groomsmen laughed, but my heart was entirely numb.

Let them laugh. The higher they climbed, the harder they would fall.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. Brooke was walking toward the ballroom, surrounded by her bridesmaids.

Inside, the grand wedding march began to play. Under the gaze of hundreds of guests, John slowly walked down the aisle toward the stage.

Brooke stood at the altar, her posture elegant, a beautiful smile playing on her lips as she waited for her new groom.

Just as John reached the halfway mark, I stepped onto the stage, snatched the microphone from the podium, and spoke into it, my voice echoing coldly through the speakers.

"Brooke, sweetheart. Why didn't you tell me you were getting married today?"