Chapter 4

Jessica ran towards me, throwing her arms around me, her body trembling as she whispered my name.

"Jacob, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

"That day on the slopes… I fell. I had multiple fractures. A kind stranger found me and took me to a hospital. It took me three months to recover enough to come back to you."

"I'm not dead, see? I'm fine!"

She grabbed my hand and ran it over her body, as if that could prove anything.

The room was silent. Every guest stared at the disheveled woman clinging to me like a drowning person reaching for driftwood.

I looked down at her. Three months ago, this scene would have brought me to my knees with relief. Now it only made me feel sick.

"Let go of me," I said quietly.

She didn't. Her grip tightened.

"Jacob, didn't you hear me? I'm alive! I came back for you!" Her voice cracked with a desperation that might have been convincing if I hadn't seen the bar footage.

I peeled her fingers off my arm, one by one. "I heard you. A kind stranger found you. Multiple fractures. Three months in a hospital."

"Yes! Exactly!"

I nodded slowly, then turned to Daniel. "Play the video."

The projector screen behind the podium flickered to life. The first clip was from six weeks ago — Jessica and Kevin, arm in arm, walking into a bar. She was laughing, radiant, not a single cast or bandage in sight.

The gasps from the audience were immediate.

Jessica spun around, her face draining of color. "That's — that's not —"

"Not what?" I asked calmly. "Not you? Not Kevin? Not our house, where you spent the night together two weeks into your so-called disappearance?"

The second video played. Kevin carrying her over the threshold of our home, bridal style. Her legs wrapped around his waist. No fractures. No kind stranger. Just two liars who thought they'd never get caught.

"Jacob, stop this!" she screamed, lunging for the laptop. Daniel blocked her easily.

"There's more," I said, my voice carrying through the speakers. "But I think the audience gets the point."

I turned to the crowd. Some looked horrified. Others — her friends, the ones who'd known all along — looked like they wanted the floor to swallow them whole.

"Three months ago, I thought my wife died in a skiing accident. I spent two weeks on that mountain, sleeping in my car, searching in subzero temperatures. I hired rescue teams. I barely ate. I barely slept."

My voice wavered, but I forced it steady.

"While I was doing that, Jessica was at a bar, celebrating her freedom. She told her friends she'd come back once I'd 'truly lost my mind looking for her.' Those are her exact words."

Jessica stood frozen, the video still playing behind her. Kevin's face on screen was laughing, whispering in her ear.

"So yes," I continued, "I'm holding a funeral. Because the woman I married — the one I loved — she is dead. Whatever this is standing in front of me, it's not her."

The room was deathly still.

Jessica's lips moved, but no sound came out. Then the tears started. Big, dramatic, streaming tears.

"You don't understand," she whispered. "I was unhappy. You were so controlling — no drinking, no cold food, always checking on me. I felt suffocated!"

"So you faked your death."

"I just needed space!"

"You needed Kevin."

"He's just a friend!"

I almost laughed. "Jessica, the man carried you over my threshold. There's footage of him spending the night. Multiple nights."

She shook her head violently. "You're twisting everything! You always do this!"

I stepped off the podium and walked towards her. She took a step back.

"Here's what's going to happen," I said, keeping my voice low enough that only she could hear. "As of yesterday morning, you are legally dead. Your bank accounts are frozen. Your credit cards are canceled. Your name has been removed from the deed to our house."

Her eyes went wide. "You can't do that!"

"It's already done. You have no legal identity, Jessica. You're a ghost."

"I'll go to the police! I'll prove I'm alive!"

"Go ahead. And while you're at it, explain to them why you faked your disappearance. Explain the wasted search and rescue resources. The false reports."

She stared at me, and for the first time in our entire relationship, I saw genuine fear in her eyes.

"Jacob, please. We can work this out. I'm your wife."

"Not anymore. Dead women can't be wives."

I turned my back on her and walked out of the funeral hall. Daniel fell into step beside me.

Behind us, I could hear Jessica screaming my name, but the sound grew fainter with every step.

When we reached the car, Daniel let out a long breath. "That was brutal."

I opened the passenger door and sat down heavily. My hands were shaking.

"It had to be done."

"What now?"

"Now," I said, staring straight ahead, "I file for divorce."