My Husband Faked His Death So I Held His Funeral

Three months after my husband went missing on a ski accident, I saw him in a bar.

He had his arm slung around Riley Song's shoulders, laughing freely. Best idea you ever had, Riley, he said, his voice thick with booze and something else. Almost forgot what breathing felt like.

His buddies kept toasting him one after another, asking when he planned to 'reappear'..

Ethan Shaw thought for a moment, then said. "Give it another week," "I'll show up after she's truly gone crazy searching for me.."

I stood in the shadows, watching him savor his so-called freedom. Then, I pulled out my phone and called my friend at the vital records office.

"I've decided to declare him legally deceased."

"You're giving up?" Her voice was hesitant on the other end.

I lifted my eyes, watching Ethan lean close to Riley, whispering something that made her giggle. My eyes burned with unshed tears.

"He's gone," I managed, my voice choked up. "What's the point of finding someone who doesn't want to be found?"

After hanging up, I turned and walked back to the private booth where my friends were waiting.

My best friend, seeing my dark expression, shoved a cocktail into my hand. "Chloe, it's been three months. The chance of survival is almost zero. You have to start moving on."

I looked down at the colorful cocktail, then threw my head back and downed it in one go.

The burn of the alcohol instantly brought tears to my eyes.

I blinked rapidly, fighting the heartache, and asked softly, "Would someone ever fake their disappearance to trick their own wife?"

She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "What kind of sick fantasy is that? Anyone who would do that is a bastard. Frankly, they should be dead!"

I wiped my tears, grabbed my purse from the couch. "You're right," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "It's time to let Ethan Shaw go."

I left the bar and went home.

The house was silent, like it always was now. For three months, this silence had terrified me. I'd come home and turn on all the lights, make a lattethe kind Ethan always drankand place it on the table, pretending he was still here.

I didn't understand. If he didn't want me anymore, why not just ask for a divorce? Why stage this whole vanishing act?

Sinking onto the couch, I picked up the cartoonish figurine of us perched on the coffee table.

Ethan had leaned against me once, pointing at them with a soft smile. "When I'm not around," he'd said, "they'll keep you company."

That memory collided violently with the sound of his irritated voice in the bar earlier: "Chloe used to be sweet and independent, you know? I don't know why, but after marriage she became so clingy. It's a wake-up call. Teach her some independence."

Beside him, Riley poured him another shot. "See? Told you I was the better choice. We've been friends for so many years, and I've never clung to you!"

"Damn right," Ethan chuckled, clinking her glass. "Best friend could ask for."

They toasted to their 'best friend,' their legs tangled intimately under the bar.

The image made nausea churn in my gut.

I grabbed the little figures and threw them straight into the trash. Then, I pulled out my phone and sent a mass text:

?Ethan Shaw passed away unexpectedly three months ago. A memorial service will be held in one week.??

Almost instantly, Ethan's 'bros' started blowing up my phone.

?You haven't found him! How can you have a funeral?!??

?Chloe, have you lost it? Shaw's NOT DEAD!??

?If Shaw comes back and sees his own funeral, he'll lose it! Chloe, think! You really wanna piss him off???

I ignored the first few. But the last one... I typed back:

?Dead men don't get angry.??

Then, I tossed my phone aside and started packing up Ethan's things. For three months, I'd been camped out near the ski resort, searching. I'd barely been home.

The bedroom looked untouched, except for the bed. I walked to the closet and pulled it open.

I froze.

Half of Ethan's clothes were gone. Only off-season items remained.

Tears spilled over instantly. A bitter laugh escaped me. While I'd been freezing on mountainsides, searching for him, barely holding myself together, Ethan had returned home multiple times to take his own things.

I went straight to my home security system, pulling up the footage from the last month and hitting fast-forward.

Early in the month: Ethan walked in, Riley draped over his shoulder. They stayed for two hours before leaving with armfuls of clothes.

Mid-month: Ethan carried Riley into the house. They didn't leave until the next morning.

Two nights ago: Both of them slipping in under cover of darkness, gone only yesterday morning.

Every single time coincided with my desperate searches in the neighboring town.

Tears streamed down my face as I watched, hot and shameful. Not for Ethan. For myself.

For the colossal waste of love and energy I'd poured into such a disgusting man!

While I was losing sleep over his safety, he was bringing his so-called 'best friend' into our home, likely having sex in our bed.

My hand gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, as I tried hard not to break down completely.

My phone, abandoned on the living room couch, started ringing. I ignored it. But it kept ringing, insistent, demanding.

Taking a shaky breath, I walked out and picked it up. The name on the screen made me pause. "Asher? What's up?"

"Ethan's alive."

A video popped up immediately. I tapped it. There was Ethan, doing a shot with Riley, arms linked like newlyweds. The look they exchanged was pure intimacy.

My breath hitched. My fingers trembled. "I know," I managed, my voice unsteady.

He sounded surprised, then chuckled. "And you're still planning his funeral?"

"Everyone keeps telling me he's dead," I said flatly. "So, I believe them. Funerals are for the dead."

Asher Shaw, a cousin of Ethan whom he has little to do, was silent for a beat. "Widowed now, then?"

"Yeah."

Our paths had rarely crossed before. He was the first to confirm what I suspected, and I owed him for that shred of honesty.

"Asher, if you're free, the service is in a week."

"Wouldn't miss it."

Another video arrived. Someone showed Ethan my text. He slammed his glass down in a rage. Riley, next to him, was startled, then placed her hand on his chest, stroking it gently, seemingly saying something to calm him down.

The bar noise drowned out her words, but I saw Ethan's anger visibly soften. He even buried his face in her shoulder.

Ethan's fury was undoubtedly because of my group message. What shocked me was how easily Riley calmed him.

When I used to upset him, he'd make me stew all night, forcing me to apologize before offering a grudging forgiveness.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the sting, saving both videos. As I went to lock my phone, Riley's name flashed on the screen.

I answered. Blaring music assaulted my ears.

"Chloe Taylor!" Riley shrieked. "You're having a funeral for Ethan? Are you insane? Cancel it! Now! Or you'll regret it when he gets back!"

I hung up before she finished, grabbed a throw blanket, and curled up on the couch. It was the first truly restful sleep I'd had in three months.

The next morning, I took the necessary documents to the vital records office to declare Ethan legally deceased.

After that, I drove to Riley's apartment.

Her door stayed stubbornly closed. I leaned on the bell until I finally heard the lock click.

She stood there in a silk robe, leaning against the frame. Love bites trailed from her neck down under the thin fabric. "You? What do you want?"

My gaze traveled from the marks on her skin to her defiant face. "Ethan's funeral. I expect you'll be there. After all, you were his best friend."

Riley rolled her eyes, her voice sharp. "Chloe, you're his wife! He's missing! Instead of looking for him, you're throwing him a party? What if he's alive? You're basically wishing him dead! What kind of bitch are you?"

I took the certificate of death I'd just obtained from my bag and let out a light laugh. "Buried in snow for three months. I couldn't find him. I've already had his death registered."

"Weren't you the ones who told me to move on in the first place?"

When the bad news first came, I'd fainted on the spot. When I woke up the next day, all of Ethan's so-called friends were gathered around my hospital bed.

"Chloe, that area... it's treacherous. It's hard to find anyone. Maybe... maybeyou should just give up?"

"Yeah, seriously dangerous. You really shouldn't go."

I'd dragged myself up, bought a ticket, hired a team, and spent weeks scouring that damned mountain. I spent half a month there, searching for him tirelessly, without rest.

Back then, I didn't notice why there wasn't a trace of worry in the eyes of Ethan's so-called friendsonly mockery.

As my words hung in the air, a loud crash came from inside her room.

Riley's face paled. Her expression turned venomous. "Chloe, don't start trouble here! Ethan will make you pay when he gets back!"

I ignored her, just like the night before. She slammed the door in my face.

The sound of a furious argument spilled out from inside.

Hearing his legal death was official had finally pushed Ethan over the edge.

But he wouldn't find me. Not this time. He'd been 'missing' for three months. Me disappearing for a few days? Perfectly reasonable.

I grabbed my pre-packed suitcase and asked Sarah to use her ID to book me a hotel room for a week.

Apart from making arrangements for the funeral, I spent my time holed up in the hotel.

When my friend came to see me, her face was full of gleeful schadenfreude.

"I heard someone is going crazy looking for you. He's turned all of Seattle upside down."

I glanced at the TV news showing my grainy picture on a 'Missing Persons' alert. A small smile touched my lips. "So what if he has? If I don't want him to find me, he won't. He said he'd only reappear once I'd gone crazy searching for him. Now it's his turn to lose his mind!"

"Serves him right!" Sarah spat. "What kind of absolute scumbag does that?"

As I spoke, I pulled out my makeup bag. I used cosmetics to cover up my healthy complexion, transforming myself into a picture of gaunt sorrow.

After confirming with my friend that the makeup indeed made me look haggard, we headed to the funeral home together.

On the way, I handed my friend the USB drive containing the videos of USB alive and instructed her to play them on my cue.

Then, I sent out the funeral location details in a group message.

Asher Shaw arrived first. Impeccable in a black suit, he took a white silk rose from me, pinning it to his lapel. "My condolences," he murmured, his expression appropriately grave.

Next came friends and extended family. Their grief was genuine, and it made my heart ache. Ethan Shaw, by faking your disappearance, how many hearts have you broken?

Today, you'll pay it all back, bit by bit.

Then came his so-calld 'bros.' Their faces were tight, strained. Their hands shook slightly as they took the funeral roses.

Finally, one pulled me aside. "Chloe! Stop this! Shaw's alive! He's been going crazy trying to find you! Haven't you seen the news?"

I blinked, forcing tears to well up. "Don't... don't try to comfort me. That alert... Riley put that out." My voice broke. "He's gone. I won't... I won't cling to false hope."

He started to argue, but I caught Sarah's eye. She smoothly steered him towards a seat.

Seeing that most guests had arrived, I began to speak.

"Thank you all for coming today to honor my late husband..."

A shriek cut me off.

"Chloe Taylor! Have you lost your mind? I told you Ethan's alive!"

Riley stood in the doorway, eyes blazing. "You're his wife! He's missing! How dare you do this? I won't allow it!"

I looked behind her. No sign of Ethan. Even now, he wouldn't show himself.

I looked at her with disdain, my voice cold. "You won't allow it? On what grounds? You said it yourself C I'm his wife."

Riley's eyes widened, filling with sheer resentment. "How can you be so cruel? Ethan loved you! And you just... write him off? What if he is alive?"

My gaze dropped pointedly to the fading marks on her neck, and I smiled. "Even if he crawled back, a cheating husband isn't worth my tears."

With that, I had someone escort Riley to the side and continued presiding over the funeral.

I had just started speaking again when a disheveled, gaunt figure appeared at the door.

He stood there, voice thick with emotion. "Baby... I'm here. I'm back."

Ethan Shaw rushed towards me, pulling me into a crushing embrace, and trembled as he called my name. "Chloe... God, you don't know how much I missed you."

"I took a bad fall skiing. Multiple fractures. Luckily, a kind stranger took me to the hospital. It took me three months to recover enough to come see you."

"See? I'm okay! I'm here!"

He took my hand and moved it over his body, as if proving he had truly been missing and fighting for his life. I just watched his performance coldly.

When he finally began to feel awkward, I laughed out loud.

"Had enough of the show?"

"Was that 'kind stranger' who took you to the hospital named Riley Song?"

Ethan's expression slowly froze. He forced a bewildered smile. "Baby... what? I don't understand?"

Looking at his feigned confusion, three months of anguish and fury finally broke free. I slapped him. Hard. The sound echoed in the stunned silence.

"You hid for three months! Why not keep hiding?"

"Weren't you waiting for me to lose my mind searching? I'm not crazy yet, Ethan. Why show up now?"

He stared at me, stunned. "How... how did you know?"

I smiled. "Oh, I know so much more."

As I spoke, I switched on the large screen behind methe one usually used by the family to display photos of the deceased.

Today, I use it for videos.

The video showed: Ethan and Riley doing shots, arms linked. Ethan bringing Riley into our house, multiple times. And finally, footage I'd captured myself after leaving Riley's apartment C Ethan walking out, Riley tucked under his arm.

Ethan stared at his clear face on the screen, his complexion turning deathly pale.

"How did you get these?"

"Who told you!"

His gaze suddenly turned vicious, sweeping over all his informed friends in the room.

"Was it you? Trying to wreck my marriage?"

They shrank back, shaking their heads. Ethan whirled back to me.

"Baby, those videos... they're fake! Deep fakes! Someone's trying to hurt us! I love you! I'd never cheat!"

He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a delicate snowflake pendant on a chain. "Look! I even brought you back a gift!"

I stared at the necklace, silent.

Sarah, anticipating me, quickly pulled up the bar video on her phone, zooming in on Riley's neck. The image flashed onto the big screen. An identical snowflake pendant gleamed against Riley's skin.

Ethan's face went slack with horror.

I snorted. "What's left to lie about, Ethan?"

"Those videos? I saw it. With my own eyes. Some of it, I filmed myself."

"Ethan Shaw. Are you happy with how this turned out?"

He glared at me, falling back on the old script. "Riley and I... we're just friends. Bros."

I shrugged, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Right. The kind of 'friends' who have sex, cause no trouble, and aren't clingy.."

The guests sat in stunned silence. Seeing the 'deceased' show up at his own funeral was shocking enough. The cheating scandal unfolding live was something else entirely.

Ethan's composure finally shattered, replaced by raw, exposed anger. "Chloe! You knew! You knew I wasn't dead and you filed the death certificate anyway! You did this on purpose!"

"Damn right I did," I said, meeting his fury head-on. "If you want your legal existence back, I have to reinstate it. So, Ethan Shaw, here are your choices."

I pulled a folded document from my purse and held it out. The divorce papers.

"Sign this. You get your life back. Don't sign, and you can live the rest of your life as a legal non-entity.. No ID, no bank account, nothing."

Ethan's chest heaved. He snatched the papers, flipping frantically to the asset division clause. His face contorted, and he hurled the papers to the floor.

"Why should I have to leave with nothing?"