My Husband, My Father's Killer

My fiancé tried to force me to call off our engagement by bankrupting my father's company, leaving him millions in debt. What a monster.

The shock sent my dad straight to the ICU with a heart attack.

I was on my knees, desperately begging my fiancé for help with the medical bills, when my childhood best friend, Ethan Blackwood, suddenly returned to the States.

He hired the best doctors for Dad and stayed by my side day and night, watching over him.

But a week later, Dad had another massive heart attack.

To give him some peace in his final moments, Ethan knelt by his bedside and promised he would marry me and take care of me for the rest of my life.

After the funeral, heartbroken and numb, I ended my engagement.

I married Ethan instead.

Five years later, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and my ex.

"Man, you played her like a fiddle," my ex-fiancé snickered. "Getting her to dump me on her own. Can you even imagine her face if she found out you were the one who ruined her dad back then? She'd probably want you dead!"

My hand froze on the private room's door. My ex's taunting voice continued.

"You're something else, Ethan. You grew up with Chloe—she saw you as a brother! She'd never believe you were the one who bankrupted her father."

"If it weren't for Ashley, I wouldn't have taken the fall for you all these years. Yeah, I resented her, but I never wanted to cause a man's death." A glass slammed onto the table. Ethan's voice was thick with drunken anger. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to Chloe. I only helped you back then because I wanted Ashley to be happy. But if you ever hurt her—if you make her shed a single tear—I swear I'll—"

"Wow, what a soft heart. Too bad Ashley met me first," my ex said with a mocking click of his tongue. "You just focus on taking care of your Chloe. After all, you're the one who killed her dad. Better watch out she doesn't haunt your dreams."

The room fell silent.

Clang!

A glass hit the door and shattered.

Hearing footsteps approach, I took a sharp breath and fled downstairs to the bar.

I threw back a glass of whiskey in one go. I was never much of a drinker, and the burn made my eyes water.

The conversation replayed in my head on a vicious loop.

Ethan, the man who paid for my dad's surgery, was the one who destroyed his company?

And whatever Ethan said to my dad that day a week later had triggered the final, fatal heart attack.

No wonder Dad had stared at Ethan with such intensity as he died.

And I was so naive, I thought it was gratitude—a final blessing!

My husband, who'd shared my bed for five years, who treated me like I was something precious, was indirectly responsible for my father's death.

All those years of marriage, all his pretended love, were just his guilt dressed up as some twisted form of gratitude.

It was all a sick joke.

A wave of grief and pure fury washed over me.

I reached for another drink, but Ethan suddenly wrapped his arms around me from behind, burying his face in my neck. His voice was slurred and dripping with false tenderness.

"Chloe, why'd you leave me alone for so long? I missed you so much… Let's go home, baby. I love you. I love you so much…"

Ethan always turned into a sentimental fool when he was drunk, always pouring out declarations of love.

His friends always said a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.

So I guess he really did love me.

But now, it felt like the cruelest punchline.

I subtly pulled away and helped him to the car. Ethan slumped onto my lap, his brow smooth, his breathing even, as if peacefully asleep.

"Ashley… Ashley… Why didn't you choose me? Why…"

This time, I finally heard the name that haunted his dreams.

Ashley. Ashley Hayes.

The woman who stole my fiancé, and Ethan's own "one who got away."

He'd never forgotten her. All this time, he'd married me, pretended to be in love, all for her.

I'd underestimated the depth of his obsession with Ashley.

Thunk!

His phone fell from his pocket. As I bent to pick it up, the screen lit up with a message.

"Ethan, thanks for covering for me tonight. I can't accept the necklace you gave me. It's far too expensive."

A second later, Ashley posted on her social media: "Love is priceless."

Attached was a photo of a stunning, blindingly beautiful necklace—the only one of its kind in the world, recently snapped up at auction by a mysterious millionaire.

I knew that post was meant for me.

Ethan had been so busy this past week he'd neglected to eat, landing himself in the ER with a bad stomachache. But the moment he opened his eyes, he'd flown to England. I thought it was for an urgent business trip. I was angry, but also worried, thinking he was pushing himself too hard for work.

But he'd gone for an auction.

Even in pain, he'd flown across the world to buy the most precious necklace for his "one that got away."

On a dark, impulsive whim, I entered his passcode.

I typed the last digit, and the phone unlocked.

It was Ashley's birthday.

Ethan never let me near his phone, always preaching about "personal space."

The moment it unlocked, Ashley's smiling face filled the screen.

No wonder he always looked so soft, so gentle, whenever he unlocked his phone.

I opened his photo albums. Every single one was labeled with a variation of Ashley's name.

[Ashley, Age 10], [Ashley, Age 11]… all the way to [Ashley, Age 25].

Each album was a shrine, filled with photos of Ashley smiling at different stages of her life.

There wasn't a single picture of me. Or even of him.

Only Ashley.

Just like his heart: always, and only, Ashley.

I opened his notepad and saw his journal entries.

[20XX, Sunny. Ashley scraped her leg on a branch. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have planted those trees in the yard.]

[20XX, Sunny. Ashley's getting married today. As long as she's happy, anything is worth it. I live to make her smile.]

[20XX, Rainy. I got married today. When I saw Ashley at the ceremony, I wished so desperately that she was the one standing next to me.]

The car pulled into the driveway. I looked up at the bare yard, and a chill swept through my entire body.

There used to be two peach trees there, the same ones Ethan had transplanted from my childhood home. My dad had planted them for me when I was ten.

Whenever I saw them, I felt like Dad was still here, watching over me.