From the start, he was kind and attentive, always willing to listen to me vent about my day, never once distracted by his phone or looking bored. He was everything I thought I needed.
What sealed my affection for him was when he showed up on my doorstep with homemade chicken soup and a collection of my favorite rom-coms. “Everyone needs a little TLC when they’re feeling down,” he said with that charming smile of his.
This is it, I thought. This is the man I’ve been waiting for.
One of the things that endeared Martin to me was his nervous stammer. When he was anxious or stressed, his words would stumble over each other, and I found it adorable. It made him feel more real, more human.
Like the time, a month into our relationship, when he took me to a fancy Italian restaurant for our “monthiversary.” He was passionately explaining the new accounting software at his firm, waving his fork around, when it slipped from his hand, sending tomato sauce all over his shirt. His face turned beet red.
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he stammered, looking mortified. “I d-didn’t m-mean to m-mess up.”
I reached across the table, took his hand, and smiled. “It’s okay. Red suits you.”
He laughed, and the tension melted away. That moment solidified my belief that he was someone I could truly be with.
As our relationship grew, Martin opened up about his past, especially about his ex-wife, Janet. He painted a picture of her as someone constantly chasing more—more money, more status, more things. “Nothing was ever enough for her,” he’d say, shaking his head. Their marriage crumbled under the weight of her demands, according to him.
“I couldn’t keep up with her. It felt like I was drowning, and she just kept pushing me under,” he confessed one night. I vowed I’d never be that way—I would love him for who he was, not for what he could provide.
So, when he proposed a year into our relationship, I didn’t hesitate. Our wedding was intimate and beautiful, and it was the happiest day of my life.
But last Tuesday, everything changed.
I had just returned from visiting my mother and decided to surprise Martin with his favorite lasagna. As I pulled into our driveway, I slammed on the brakes when I saw two figures digging in our garden—Martin and Janet.
For a moment, I thought my eyes were deceiving me. What were they doing together? And why were they destroying my garden?
I stormed out of the car and marched over to them. “What’s going on?” I demanded, anger rising in my voice.
Martin froze, dropping the shovel. “M-M-Margaret! Y-you’re h-home early!” His familiar stammer only confirmed my suspicions—he was hiding something.
All the worst thoughts flooded my mind. Was he cheating? Why was Janet here? Why were they digging up our yard?
“We were just…” Martin began, but Janet interrupted.
“She deserves to know, Martin,” she said, wiping her hands. “We buried a time capsule here, ten years ago.”
“A time capsule?” I echoed in disbelief.
“Yes, from when we lived here together,” Janet explained, gesturing to the metal box at their feet. “We always planned to dig it up someday.”
Martin looked sheepish. “Y-yeah, we thought it’d be fun to reminisce.”
I stood there, stunned. “So, you decided to destroy my garden for your little trip down memory lane?”
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t,” I snapped before walking into the house, slamming the door behind me. Inside, I paced back and forth, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. How could Martin keep this from me? And why on earth would he prioritize his past with Janet over our life together?
I heard the front door open and the sound of hushed voices. Then Martin called out, “Margaret? Can we talk?”
I stepped into the hallway, where they stood with the muddy time capsule between them.
“What’s there to talk about?” I asked coldly.
“Please, let us explain,” Martin pleaded. “It’s not what you think.”
Janet chimed in. “We just wanted to look back. There’s nothing more to it—”
“Fine,” I interrupted. “Go ahead and dig up the past. I’ll be outside.”
I stormed out of the house, feeling a mixture of anger and betrayal. As I looked at the mess they’d made of my garden, an idea formed in my mind.
I gathered wood for a bonfire. By the time the fire was roaring, the sun had set. I could hear Martin and Janet laughing inside, likely over something from the time capsule. I called out, “Why don’t you bring that stuff out here? We could have a bonfire.”
They joined me, bringing the capsule with them. I picked up a handful of its contents—old photos, letters, trinkets. Without hesitation, I tossed them into the flames.
“What are you doing?” Janet gasped.
“Burnt bridges should stay burnt,” I said firmly. “It’s time to focus on the future, not the past.”
As I watched the fire consume their memories, I realized something—Martin wasn’t the perfect man I thought I’d married. He was flawed, just like anyone else.
Janet backed away, her face pale. “I think I should go.”
Neither Martin nor I stopped her as she left. Once we were alone, Martin turned to me with tears in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Margaret,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know how to tell you about the capsule. I was afraid you’d think I still had feelings for Janet. I just wanted to get it done before you came back. I messed up. Can you forgive me?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, staring at the fire. “You’ve broken my trust, Martin. That’s not something you fix overnight.”
“We have a lot to talk about,” I continued. “But not tonight. Tonight, I need some space.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Martin said, defeated, before retreating into the house.
I stayed by the fire as it slowly died down. The garden would need to be replanted. New seeds, new life. Maybe our relationship could be the same.
Only time would tell which path we’d choose. But one thing was certain: Martin would never be the same in my eyes.
What would you have done if you were in my place?
My Husband Died on Our Wedding Day – If Only I Knew He Fooled Us All
I thought I was living my dream when I married Damian, but it all turned into a nightmare before the reception. I ended up burying my husband three days after our wedding, only to come face-to-face with him behind the wheel of a taxi.
This isn’t something I can tell the people around me, so I have to use the anonymity of the internet for it. You can call me Paige. I’m 28, and just a few months ago, I was the picture-perfect bride.
A beautiful bride | Source: Midjourney
But my soulmate, whom you may call Damian, died after we said I do. They say life flashes before your eyes when you’re going to die, but our entire relationship flashed before mine as I saw him drop to the ground.
Damian and I met at a small café where I used to work part-time. He was one of those quiet, polite customers who always tipped well and read a book while drinking coffee.
A man with a book in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
I’d had a crush on him since I first saw him. But when he asked me out, I was shocked. He was gorgeous with his sharp cheekbones, warm hazel eyes, and quiet confidence.
I was just an average girl from a lower middle-class family, so I couldn’t believe he was interested in me. But he was, and from our first date walking on a local pier, it felt like we were meant to be.
A couple on a pier | Source: Midjourney
Just a year later, we were standing at the altar in front of our closest friends. It was the happiest day of my life. Damian couldn’t stop smiling at me as I cried while reading my vows. We were about to start the next amazing chapter of our lives together.
But that dream ended abruptly. Before the reception, while taking some pictures with friends, Damian suddenly collapsed. At first, I thought he was joking. But when he didn’t get up, I froze.
People surrounded him, and someone called 911. The paramedics worked on him right there on the dance floor, but nothing they did worked.
A man on the floor | Source: Midjourney
They rushed him to the hospital, and I followed them in a daze. A doctor came out hours later, his face grim, and told me Damian didn’t make it. They said it was a heart attack. He was only 32 years old. How does a healthy man just die like that?
I could barely hold myself together the following days. It was all a blur until the funeral when his family showed up. I’d only met them once before, and that one meeting was enough.
Damian had warned me about them but hadn’t told me everything. His adoptive parents were snobbish and controlling. But one of Damian’s friends, Adam, confessed to me that they were also filthy rich.
Two people talking closely | Source: Midjourney
“Damian didn’t tell you about his family’s wealth because he didn’t want it to affect how you saw him,” he said in a low voice.
I honestly never knew despite him telling me he had a successful business. Yet, it made sense. That also had to be why they didn’t approve of our relationship. I wasn’t from the “right” kind of family and Damian hadn’t invited them to our wedding.
But now they were here and spent the entire service throwing daggers at me with their eyes. I overheard his mother whisper to someone, “She was probably after his money and caused his death. Get our lawyer on the phone.”
An angry older couple | Source: Midjourney
I wanted to yell that I didn’t even know Damian had a lot of money, let alone want it. But what good would it do? They’d already made up their minds about me, and I just didn’t have the energy to fight anyone.
***
Three days after the funeral, I couldn’t take the grief and the emptiness anymore. My apartment felt suffocating as every corner held a memory of Damian.
The sadness was overwhelming and was giving me strange thoughts. On top of that, his family had started to call me. I never answered, but their voice messages were terrifying.
A home phone | Source: Midjourney
I needed to get away, so I threw some clothes into a small suitcase, grabbed my passport, and called a taxi. My plan wasn’t fully formed. I just knew I had to leave the city or country. Maybe I’d go to Mexico or Aruba. Anywhere that wasn’t here.
When the taxi pulled up, I climbed into the backseat and stared out the window. I barely noticed the driver as I settled into the leather and tried to breathe deeply.
“Fasten your seatbelt, please,” the driver suddenly said.
A man driving a taxi | Source: Midjourney
I froze. My chest tightened, and my heart started pounding. That voice was Damian’s. I whipped my head around and focused on the rearview mirror. Those eyes. Those unmistakable hazel eyes.
“Damian?” I croaked. “But…? How? How are you here? What?”
My words made no sense, but suddenly, he swerved the car away from the road toward the highway and parked on a quiet street. For a moment, he didn’t say anything.
A taxi near a highway | Source: Midjourney
I could see his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly like he was bracing himself for something. Then he turned around and looked right at me.
“I’m sorry, Paige,” he said softly without any preamble. “I know this is a lot to take in. I’ll explain everything. Please don’t hate me.”
I sat with wide eyes and an open mouth for the entirety of Damian’s explanation. It was too much to believe.
A woman in the backseat looking shocked | Source: Midjourney
First, he told me about his family. They adopted him as a teenager and used his brilliance to expand their shady business empire, which was failing spectacularly before him. Eventually, he became the brains behind some of their most successful (and probably illegal) ventures.
For a while, he was just glad that he had proud parents and could contribute to the family who had given him a home when no one else would. But he grew tired of the illegal things.
A teen using the computer while an older woman overlooks | Source: Midjourney
Damian knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught, and he didn’t want to be left with nothing. So, he started a legit business and grew it into such a success that he decided not to work with his family anymore.
That’s when they turned on him. They wanted to control this venture, but Damian managed to put their threats off until he met me. Well, their shady business was also failing without him.
So, they threatened to ruin me and our lives if Damian didn’t give them a piece of the cake.
An old man yelling on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“I couldn’t let them touch you,” Damian said, rubbing his face. “They would’ve destroyed you to get to me. So I did the only thing I could think of. I made them believe I was dead.”
He went on to explain how he staged everything. There’s apparently a medication that can slow your heart rate so much that it mimics death. With the help of a professional fixer who knew the right people to pay off, he faked the collapse, the hospital pronouncement, and even the funeral.
Money exchanging hands | Source: Midjourney
When I asked how he escaped his grave, Damian laughed and said he wasn’t in the coffin at all. He had to be there for the viewing service, but the fixer got his people to take him out at some point without anyone noticing.
I didn’t know what to say when he finished. Was I in a George Clooney heist movie?
“I know I hurt you,” he said as his eyes watered. “But I did it for us. I couldn’t let them win.”
My mouth opened, but nothing came out, so we stayed in that cab on that quiet road for hours without speaking, except for a few whispered, “I’m sorry.”
A man in a taxi looking sad | Source: Midjourney
Finally, when night fell, I asked him to take me home.
It was there that the dam unleashed. I spent hours yelling while he tried to justify his actions. “YOU LET ME THINK YOU WERE DEAD!” I cried out.
“I’m so sorry, baby!”
“DON’T CALL ME BABY!”
A woman yelling | Source: Midjourney
By the morning, I was all cried out, and my voice was hoarse, but I finally asked, “What now?” It wasn’t like we could go back to how things were. He was supposed to be dead. His family could easily see him here.
Damian then explained his idea for the future. By faking his death, he ensured that all his legitimately earned assets were transferred to me. His family couldn’t touch them now. All I needed to do now was to sell and split it with him.
A computer showing scanned bank statements | Source: Midjourney
But soon enough, he was moving abroad for good. I was shaking my head, still in disbelief, when he asked me something outrageous.
“I know that I hurt you terribly, but is there any way you’d want to come with me?” he asked.
I scoffed and remained quiet for a long time, but eventually, I answered.
“I can’t just pick up where we left off, even in another country,” I told him. “I’ll do whatever you need with the assets and the money, but you broke my heart. I don’t think I can trust you enough to start over. I need space.”
A woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
He nodded seriously. “I understand. Take all the space and time you need. I have to leave later today. But I’m not giving up on us, Paige. I’ll wait for as long as it takes.”
Before Damian left, he left me his contact information and promised to check in when he could.
For the next few weeks, I was furious. I didn’t respond to his texts. But I did start arranging to sell his business and consolidate assets. That brought some trouble with his parents, who wanted to claim what Damian had left me after his “death.”
I had to see them several times in the presence of lawyers, and they were scary people.
Angry older couple in a lawyer’s office | Source: Midjourney
But there was nothing they could do legally to take anything from me, and my attorneys weren’t afraid of them. So, his parents were forced to back off, and I was free to sell what I needed.
When all was said and done, I started to see what Damian had done as the right choice. He was protecting himself and me from them. It was reckless and stupid but also selfless.
Weeks later, I realized something: I still loved him. Despite what he put me through, my heart hadn’t let go. I picked up my phone and dialed his number.
A woman in bed using a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Paige?” he answered, pleasantly surprised.
“Where are you?” I asked. “I’ll go there, but never do that to me again.”
And that was it. Now, I’m in another country where they speak an entirely different language, but the beach is 30 minutes away.
I had to give up everything, and it was worth it. Damian and I had another wedding and actually got to enjoy it this time. His parents won’t ever find us, and we’re living our best life.
A woman on the beach with a man behind her | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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