“I believed I was living my dream when I married Damian, but it quickly became a nightmare even before our reception. Just three days after our wedding, I found myself burying my husband, only to encounter him behind the wheel of a taxi shortly after.
This is something I can’t share with those around me, so I’m turning to the anonymity of the internet for support. You can call me Paige. I’m 28, and just a few months back, I was the ideal bride.”
But my soulmate, whom I’ll refer to as Damian, passed away just after we said “I do.” They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re facing death, but in that moment, all I could see was our entire relationship as I watched him fall to the ground.
Damian and I met at a small café where I worked part-time. He was one of those quiet, polite customers who always tipped generously and read a book while sipping his coffee.
I had a crush on him from the moment I first saw him. So, when he asked me out, I was completely taken aback. He was stunning, with sharp cheekbones, warm hazel eyes, and a quiet confidence that drew me in.
Coming from a lower middle-class family, I could hardly believe someone like him would be interested in me. But he was, and from our very first date walking along a local pier, it felt like we were meant to be together.
Just a year later, we were standing at the altar surrounded by our closest friends. It was the happiest day of my life. Damian couldn’t stop smiling at me while I cried as I read my vows. We were on the brink of an incredible new chapter together.
But that dream ended in an instant. Before the reception, while we were taking pictures with friends, Damian suddenly collapsed. Initially, I thought he was joking. But when he didn’t get back up, I froze.
People rushed to his side, and someone called 911. The paramedics worked on him right there on the dance floor, but nothing they did seemed to help.
They rushed him to the hospital, and I followed in a daze. Hours later, a doctor emerged with a grim expression and delivered the heartbreaking news: Damian didn’t make it. They said it was a heart attack. He was only 32 years old. How could a healthy man just die like that?
In the days that followed, I struggled to hold myself together. Everything felt like a blur until the funeral when his family arrived. I had only met them once before, and that single encounter was more than enough.
Damian had warned me about them but hadn’t shared all the details. His adoptive parents were snobbish and controlling. However, one of Damian’s friends, Adam, revealed to me that they were also incredibly wealthy.
“Damian didn’t tell you about his family’s wealth because he didn’t want it to change how you viewed him,” he said quietly.
Honestly, I had no idea, even though he had mentioned he ran a successful business. But it made sense; that must have been why they disapproved of our relationship. I didn’t come from the “right” kind of family, and Damian hadn’t invited them to our wedding.
Now they were here, and throughout the entire service, they were 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.”
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.
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.
I froze. My chest tightened, and my heart began to race. That voice was Damian’s. I quickly turned my head and looked at the rearview mirror. Those eyes—those unmistakable hazel eyes.
“Damian?” I croaked. “But…? How? How are you here? What?”
My words felt jumbled and incoherent, but suddenly, he swerved the car off the road toward the highway and parked on a quiet street. For a moment, he remained silent.
I noticed his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, as if he were bracing himself for something. Then he turned around to face 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 there, wide-eyed and speechless, as Damian shared his explanation. It was almost too much to believe.
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.
Damian realized 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 legitimate business and grew it into such a success that he decided to cut ties with his family.
That’s when they turned against him. They wanted to control his new venture, but Damian managed to fend off their threats—until he met me. Meanwhile, their shady business was also struggling without him.
They threatened to ruin me and our lives if Damian didn’t give them a share of the profits.
“I couldn’t let them touch you,” Damian said, rubbing his face in frustration. “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 continued to explain how he staged everything. There’s a medication that can slow your heart rate so dramatically that it mimics death. With the help of a professional fixer who knew exactly who to pay off, he faked the collapse, the hospital pronouncement, and even the funeral.
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.”
Finally, when night fell, I asked him to take me home.
Once we arrived, the dam broke. I spent hours yelling as he attempted to justify his actions. “YOU LET ME THINK YOU WERE DEAD!” I cried out, my voice filled with anguish.
“I’m so sorry, baby!” he pleaded.
“DON’T CALL ME BABY!” I snapped back, the pain and betrayal overwhelming me.
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.
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.”
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.
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.
“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.
Here’s another story: My Little Son Vanished at the Carnival – We Found Him the Next Day, Stunned by His Truth
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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