The Dead Wife Crashed The Wedding

I ran into two of Wards childhood friends on the streetmen I hadn't seen in over two years.

I was just about to step forward and wave when their voices drifted over, freezing me in my tracks.

So, Wards finally getting his happy ending, one of them said, shaking his head. Good for him. He deserves a fresh start.

No kidding, the other replied. His first wife was such a tragedy. Dead so soon after they got married. Its about time he moved on.

I stood there, the blood draining from my face.

Dead?

Im standing right here, warm and breathing. How on earth am I dead?

And what did they mean, remarrying?

My son, Toby, is almost three. Ward and I had our wedding five years ago. Who exactly was he marrying?

From their hushed gossiping, I caught a name: Cynthia. A woman I had never heard of in my life.

I quietly noted the venue and the time of the wedding, then slipped away into the crowd.

On Sunday, I drove to the luxury hotel downtown.

The lobby was humming with noise, packed with dressed-up guests. I walked over to the reception desk for the brides side, pulled out two hundred-dollar bills, and slapped them onto the ledger table.

The older gentleman holding the guest book looked up, pen poised. Whose name should I put down, ma'am?

I bared my teeth in a cold, humorless smile.

Just write: 'The Resurrected First Wife.'

The gentleman gave me a sharp, annoyed look. Its a wedding day. Why say something so incredibly morbid?

I didn't bother replying. I turned around and my eyes locked onto a massive, life-sized canvas print on an easel near the entrance.

The man in the tuxedo was my husband. The woman in the cascading lace gown was a complete stranger.

The photo was gorgeousthe kind of high-end editorial shoot that cost a small fortune.

Years ago, I had suggested we do something similar.

Wedding photos are just a pointless formality, Ward had said, brushing me off. Paying that much is a waste of money.

As long as we love each other and build a good life, thats what matters.

So, we had gone to a dusty, budget studio in a strip mall down the street. We chose the cheapest package they offered.

Looking around the foyer, I spotted several familiar faces. They were all Wards relatives.

My stomach twisted. He was doing this right in front of them. He was openly, shamelessly celebrating a double life, and his entire family was in on it.

I glanced toward the head table inside the ballroom, and the last of the warmth left my body.

Sitting at the VIP table, dressed in their absolute best, were Wards parentsmy mother and father-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Warren.

Relatives were lining up to congratulate them. My mother-in-laws face was flushed red with pride, her laughter ringing out across the room.

Fragments of their conversation drifted through the open doors.

Cynthia is such a lovely girl. You can tell shes going to bring so much prosperity to your family. You two are going to be so spoiled!

My mother-in-law beamed, her chest swelling. Oh, absolutely! Ever since Ward met her, his career has just taken off. Every year is better than the last. Shes not like the first oneno luck, a short life, a total jinx on our household. But lets not ruin such a beautiful day by talking about her

Her words felt like a physical blow to my chest, a dull knife carving out my ribcage.

For six years, I had treated them with nothing but respect and devotion. I had cleaned their house, cooked their meals, and anticipated their every need. And to them, I was nothing but a "jinx."

If I was truly a jinx, their graves would have been overgrown with weeds by now.

My father-in-law nodded in agreement. I told Ward from the very beginning that he shouldn't marry her!

Who? Me?

Well, she didn't ask for a single penny for a wedding gift or a down payment, my mother-in-law snorted. Otherwise, she never would have set foot in our house. You get what you pay for, after all. Thats why we were so careful this time. A hundred-thousand-dollar wedding gift! Now this is a daughter-in-law we are proud of.

So that was my crime.

Because I had been considerate of their financial struggles, because I hadn't demanded a lavish dowry or a massive house fund, I was cheap. I was a freebie they could look down on.

Meanwhile, Cynthia had demanded a hundred thousand dollars, and they had practically tripped over themselves to give it to her.

It was so profoundly unfair that my hands began to shake. I wanted to tear into the ballroom and scream at them, but I forced my fingers to unclench.

I would settle that account soon enough.

I turned on my heel and walked toward the bridal suite.

The door was slightly ajar. The bride was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by her bridesmaids, putting the finishing touches on her veil.

Cynthia noticed me stepping into the doorway. She offered me a warm, radiant smile. Are you one of Wards colleagues from the office?

My blood boiled, but I forced a tight, polite nod. Yes. Something like that.

One of the bridesmaids reached out, gently taking Cynthias hand, her eyes locked onto the sparkling diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist.

Cynthia, you are so incredibly lucky. Ward really spared no expense, did he? This bracelet must have cost six figures.

He insisted, Cynthia said, her fingers tracing the diamonds as a soft, dreamlike smile spread across her face. He told me a wedding is once in a lifetime, and he wanted me to have the very best.

My heart felt hollow, like a cavern carved out by ice.

When Ward and I got married, we had nothing. I had suggested buying simple wedding bands so we'd have something to show for our commitment.

Why waste money on something you cant eat or wear? he had said. Youre not that kind of materialistic girl, Paige.

When he saw how deflated I was, he kissed my forehead and promised, Once my salary goes up, Ill buy you the biggest ring youve ever seen.

His career did take off. He got promotions, his pay increased, and every year at bonus time, he would buy me a single small gold bar, telling me it was a secure investmentour safety net for Toby and me.

But wait. Where did he get the money for Cynthia's six-figure bracelet?

Wards salary was deposited directly into our joint account. I saw the paystubs every month. He made $8,000 after taxes. He transferred $6,500 to me for the mortgage and bills, keeping 0-0,500 for his own expenses.

I heard your husband's company is incredibly profitable, another bridesmaid chimed in, her voice dripping with envy. They say his annual executive dividends alone are over half a million dollars. He could buy you ten of those bracelets and not even blink.

Dividends?

We had been married for nearly six years, and I had absolutely no idea he owned corporate equity, let alone half a million dollars in annual payouts.

I had trusted his neat, official-looking paystubs. I had never questioned him.

And all the while, he was sitting on a fortune.

Cynthia suddenly turned her gaze back to me.

Since you work with him, you must know how much he actually makes, she said playfully. Tell me the truthdoes he have a secret stash? I need to know so I can keep him honest after today.

A dull pain throbbed behind my temples.

How much does he make? The woman standing in front of me knew the truth better than I did.

The lion's share of his wealth had been funneled directly into her life. A six-figure diamond bracelet, a lavish venuethings I hadn't even dared to dream of.

And here she was, asking me to help her keep track of his money.

The muscles in my jaw twitched. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.

Sensing the sudden, heavy silence, Cynthia tried to ease the tension with a nervous laugh. Oh, Im sorry. Maybe thats confidential. Its fine!

She adjusted her veil. Actually, I think Ive met almost all of Wards close coworkers, but youre a new face. Are you recently hired?

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. Yes. Im quite new. I dont know much about Wards actual income.

One of the younger bridesmaids sighed, leaning against the vanity. Honestly, your husband is just too perfect. Hes handsome, successful, makes a ton of money, and he doesnt even smoke.

Cynthia let out a soft giggle. Oh, he used to smoke like a chimney! He only quit because he wanted us to have a healthy honeymoon baby. He went cold turkey just for that.

My hand shook so violently I nearly dropped my phone.

During my first trimester with Toby, my morning sickness was so severe that the mere whiff of cigarette smoke would send me sprinting to the bathroom.

I had begged Ward to quit. He told me it was impossiblethat he needed to smoke for networking and stress management at work.

Then, three months ago, he suddenly threw all his lighters and packs into the trash.

He had looked me in the eye and said, I know youve been worried about second-hand smoke. For you and Toby, Im putting them down for good.

I had been so touched. I had cried tears of gratitude, believing my husband loved us enough to change.

But he hadn't done it for us. He had done it for her.

Sorry, Cynthia said, giving me an apologetic smile. They just love to tease me.

The room seemed to tilt. The sheer scale of the deception washed over me, and before I could stop myself, the words slipped out.

Are you really that sure about him? What if he has another life? What if he's married to someone else right now?

Cynthias smile vanished. She stared at me, her eyes widening. Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?

The bridesmaids immediately bristled, stepping forward defensively. Wow. Just because your own husband is a cheater doesn't mean you get to project your bitterness onto everyone else.

I let out a dry, hollow laugh. You know what? You're absolutely right.

Cynthia looked at me with a faint trace of pity, her chin lifting slightly. My Ward isn't like other men. He would never betray me.

Really? If hes so perfect and devoted, where is he? The ceremony is supposed to start soon, and the groom is nowhere to be found.

Hes picking up some of his college friends from the airport, Cynthia replied smoothly. They flew in from out of state just for this. Hell be back any minute.

Right on cue, her phone buzzed on the vanity. She snatched it up, her face instantly softening. Hey, baby! Where are you?

The bridesmaids quieted down, and because of the silence in the room, Ward's voice drifted clearly through the speaker.

Almost there, sweetheart. Im just pulling into the parking lot. I can't believe I finally get to make you my wife today. I'm so excited.

Cynthias cheeks flushed a delicate pink. Drive safely. Focus on the road.

The bridesmaids squealed in unison as soon as she hung up. Oh my god, did you hear him? You guys have been together for five years and hes still this obsessed with you!

Well, when you only get to spend half the year together, you learn to cherish every moment, Cynthia murmured, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

It felt like a physical blow to the back of my head. My ears began to ring.

Five years.

They had been together for five years.

I wondered if I was simply the stupidest woman alive, or if he was just that brilliant of an actor.

No, he wasn't a genius. I had just trusted him blindly.

I had believed his lies about corporate restructuring, his claims that he had to rotate out of state every other month to secure a promotion.

I had supported him. I had done everything in my power not to hold him back.

I had carried the entire weight of our household aloneworking my job, cooking, cleaning, raising our toddler. I had never complained, not even once, because I believed we were building a future together.

I remembered nights when Toby had a high fever, and I had sat alone in the ER waiting room until dawn, holding my crying baby, terrified to call Ward because I didn't want to wake him up before his "big meetings."

And all that time, his "out-of-state business trips" were just him playing house with another woman.

The bridesmaids continued to gush. Seriously, Cynthia, your man is a unicorn. Handsome, rich, doesn't smoke, totally devoted, and he actually speaks your love language. Does he have any flaws? Tell us one, just so we don't die of jealousy!

Cynthia laughed, shaking her head. Honestly? The only thing I can think of is that hes completely obsessed with making me these healthy herbal broths every single morning. He gets up at dawn just to simmer them for me.

Another wave of nausea hit me.

In six years of marriage, Ward Warren had never made me breakfast. Not once.

When I was heavily pregnant with Toby, my belly so large I could barely bend down to tie my shoes, he had promised to make breakfast. He managed to burn three pots of oatmeal in a row.

No matter how patiently I tried to teach him, he claimed he simply didn't have the coordination for cooking. I had genuinely believed he was just helpless in the kitchen.

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

I stood frozen, the coldness spreading through my veins.

The bridesmaids insisted she give them a real flaw, accusing her of humble-bragging.

Cynthia bit her lip, her expression turning uncharacteristically solemn. Actually... there is one thing. Please promise me you wont ever bring it up to him.

They all leaned in.

Ward was married once before, Cynthia whispered. But his ex-wife and their little boy... they were killed in a terrible car accident a couple of years ago. It absolutely broke him. He still cant talk about it.

In an instant, the blood rushed to my head, hot and deafening. My knuckles turned white as I clenched my fists.

He hadn't just written me out of his life. He had killed off our son.

Our beautiful, sweet little Toby, who just yesterday had been giggling, climbing all over Wards back, telling him he was his favorite person in the world.

To make room for his new bride, Ward had erased his own flesh and blood.

The sheer, monstrous cruelty of it left me gasping for air.

I was about to step forward and blow the whole room apart when my phone vibrated in my hand. It was my mother-in-law.

The bridesmaids turned to look at me. I stepped back out into the quiet corridor before answering.

Paige, her voice came through, sharp and demanding. I need you to wire me ten thousand dollars. Immediately. Its an emergency.

An emergency, Mom? What kind of emergency costs ten grand?

I told you about this before! she snapped, her voice hushed but frantic. Your father and I are helping host a wedding for a family friends son. Theyve asked us to be the godparents, and we have to give a proper cash blessing. Ten thousand dollars is the standard for a respectable family. Just transfer it now, theyre waiting.

Godparents.

A ten-thousand-dollar "godparent gift."

I knew exactly what that money was for. It was Cynthia's welcome gift.

They were trying to fund their new daughter-in-law's wedding present with my money.

When Ward and I got married, my mother-in-law had handed me a card with exactly two hundred dollars in it.

The hypocrisy was staggering.

Mom, I said, my voice deadpan and icy. Is this new godchild of yours going to be the one taking care of you on your deathbed?

There was a sharp intake of breath. What on earth is wrong with you? Why are you bringing up deathbeds on a day like this? Have you lost your mind?

Ive just never heard of a godparent gift costing ten thousand dollars, I replied smoothly. If I didn't know any better, Id think you were trying to pay off a massive welcome gift for a secret daughter-in-law.

The line went completely dead.

For a few agonizing seconds, there was only silence. Then, my mother-in-law exploded, her voice screeching through the receiver.

How dare you speak to me like that! You always play the sweet, obedient wife, but the moment we ask for a little help, your true colors come out! Let me remind you, my son is the one who makes the real money in your house. I can spend his money however I please, and you have absolutely no right to lecture me!

Your son brings home sixty-five hundred dollars a month, I said, my voice rising. That money pays for our mortgage, our car, and your grandson's preschool. And don't forget, I work too. I make just as much as he does.

Fine! You think you're so smart! she spat, and slammed the phone down.

I took a deep breath, smoothed down my dress, and turned back toward the bridal suite.

Through the door, I heard Cynthias excited voice.

My mother-in-law just texted me! She said they couldn't get the cash out in time, so they're giving me five physical gold bars instead as a welcoming gift!

Oh my god! Gold bars? That is so old-school and romantic!

My stomach dropped.

Five gold bars.

The exact number of gold bars Ward had given me over the years as our "anniversary savings."

They had stolen them right out of our safe.

The bridesmaids cheered, but my heart had turned to stone.

Go ahead and laugh, I thought. Enjoy the music. Because in about ten minutes, this fairytale is going to end.

A commotion at the end of the hall caught my attention.

Ward was walking toward the ballroom, surrounded by a group of laughing groomsmen.

The wedding march began to play from the grand ballroom.

Cynthia stepped out, holding her bouquet, and began her slow, elegant walk toward the double doors.

Ward was already standing at the altar, his posture perfect, his face glowing with a triumphant, happy smile as he waited for his bride.

Before Cynthia could even reach the threshold of the room, I bypassed the ushers, pushed through the heavy double doors, and walked straight down the center aisle.

I stepped onto the raised altar, grabbed the wireless microphone from the podium, and turned to face my husband.

Honey, I said, my voice echoing clearly through the massive speakers. How could you have a wedding this beautiful and forget to invite your own wife?