My Fiancé Faked His Death, So I Did the Same

On the day of our wedding, my fiancé was killed in a tragic car accident on his way to pick me up.

Just like that, I became a widow. And the child growing inside me became fatherless before even entering this world.

The trauma shattered me. I spiraled into a deep psychological breakdown, consumed by despair, plagued with thoughts of ending my life. However, everyone pleaded with me to hold on—for the sake of the baby.

On the day of the funeral, my husband’s older brother, Ryan, and his wife returned from Africa to pay their respects.

When I looked at him—his face almost identical to my husband’s—I found myself slipping into confusion, again and again.

But then, outside my mother-in-law’s bedroom, I overheard a conversation that shook me to my core.

“You really faked your death and ran off just to be with that foreign woman? Aileen is carrying your child! You staged this whole act just to bring that vixen home?”

After a long silence, his voice finally responded, soft but unmistakable.

“Ivy is terminally ill. The doctors said she only has six months left at most. Once those six months are up, Aileen will have given birth by then, and everything will return to normal. We'll be one happy family again.”

It was in that moment the truth hit me—my husband hadn’t died at all. This so-called brother-in-law was none other than my husband, Wendel, in disguise.

I clenched my fists, fighting the trembling of my body as I sent a message to my brother, who works in a covert government agency overseas.

[Brother, help me stage an accident. If Wendel can fake his death, so can I. Let’s give him a taste of his own medicine.]

Even after sending the message, my hands wouldn't stop shaking.

——

Inside, their conversation continued.

“Do you really think this is fair to Aileen? If it weren’t for the baby, she would’ve followed you to the grave. She’s like a ghost—she can’t eat, she can’t sleep. Even I feels heartbroken watching her like this.”

Wendel let out a deep sigh.

“But Ivy only has six months. This is her last wish. I can’t let her down.”

“As for Aileen, I’ll have the rest of my life to make it up to her. Don’t worry, Mom...”

It felt like a giant hand had gripped my heart, squeezing until the pain reached every corner of my body. I could barely breathe.

I staggered back to my room, collapsing to my knees just as my phone rang—it was my brother.

“What’s wrong, Aileen? What happened? Wasn’t Wendel supposed to be dead?”

I wanted to respond, but the moment I opened my mouth, tears fell uncontrollably.

Yes. As far as the world knew, Wendel was dead.

I understood my brother’s confusion. Even I couldn’t have imagined that my husband would fake his death—and all for another woman.

Even though I couldn’t speak, my brother seemed to pick up on my silence. After a pause, he spoke gently.

“I’ll send a plane the night after tomorrow. I’ll take care of everything else.”

When the call ended, I stayed frozen in place, still clutching the phone.

That’s when a soft knock came at the door.

Outside stood my so-called brother-in-law—Wendel—holding a glass of milk.

“What’s wrong, Aileen? Why are you sitting on the floor? Are you crying again? Are you missing Wendel?”

Ever since his return in this disguise, he had been incredibly kind to me, acting the part of a grieving older brother-in-law. As if I really were his late younger brother’s widow.

Each time he showed concern, I felt dazed and lost. My mother-in-law chalked it up to grief.

I quickly locked my phone and forced a smile.

“I’m fine. Just a little stomach discomfort. I lost my balance, that’s all.”