Three months after my husband, Josiah Erikson, disappears in a skiing accident, I spot him in a bar.

He's laughing freely with an arm slung casually around his "best friend", Monica Jones' shoulders. "Good thing you came up with the idea. I'd almost forgotten what freedom feels like."

One after another, his buddies clink glasses with him and ask about when he plans to reappear.

He looks down and thinks about it before saying, "In a week. I'll show up once she's gone completely crazy searching for me."

Standing in the shadows, I watch him savor his freedom, then call my friend who works at the state vital records office.

"I've decided to have Josiah removed from the records," I announced.

"Are you giving up the search?" my friend, who worked at the state vital records office, hesitantly asked.

I looked up at Josiah Erikson, who was leaning close to whisper something in Monica Jones' ear. My eyes burned with tears, and my voice was all choked up. "I can't find him."

What was the point of finding someone who wanted to stay lost?

After hanging up, I turned and returned to my private room.

When my best friend, Carissa Caldwell, noticed my grim expression, she shoved a drink into my hand. "Josiah's been missing for three months, Nicole. Chances of him being alive are close to zero, so you have to move on."

I stared at the brightly colored liquid in the glass, tipped my head back, and drained everything in one go.

The burn immediately brought tears to my eyes. I blinked hard, swallowed the heartache, and softly asked, "Would someone ever fake their disappearance just to lie to their wife?"

Carissa shot me a look of pity and rage. "What kind of nonsense is that? Anyone who does that is a monster who might as well be dead."

Wiping my tears, I picked up my bag from the couch. "You're right. It's time I let Josiah go."

Then, I left and returned home.

The apartment was as silent as ever. For the past three months, I'd dreaded the silence.

Every night I came back, I'd turn on all the lights, brew a cup of black tea Josiah always drank, and set it on the coffee table to pretend that he was still there.

I couldn't understand. If he didn't want to live with me anymore, he could have just asked for a divorce. Why would he stage a skiing accident and disappear?

I sank onto the couch and picked up the collectible mini-figures of us that sat on the table. Josiah had once leaned against me and smiled as he pointed at them.

"When I'm not around, they can keep you company instead."

His past words overlapped with his irritated voice from the bar. "Nicole used to be gentle and lovely. I'm not sure why, but after we got married, she became so clingy.

"Faking my death will teach her a lesson, so maybe she'll learn not to stick to me as much."

Beside him, Monica topped off his drink. "I'm the better friend, aren't I? We've been buddies for years, and I've never clung to you."

"Yeah. You're my best buddy," he said. Though they talked like best friends and siblings, their legs were tangled together beneath the table.

The thought of the scene made my stomach churn. I tossed the mini-figures into the trash before picking up my phone to mass text.

"Josiah Erikson passed away in an accident three months ago. A farewell ceremony will be held in one week."

Almost immediately, his so-called buddies bombarded me with angry questions.

"How can you hold a funeral when we haven't found Josiah?"

"Have you lost your mind, Nicole? Josiah isn't dead!"

"If Josiah comes back and sees his funeral, he'll be furious! Think about it—do you have the guts to make him mad?"

I ignored the first few questions and only replied to the last.

"If Josiah's dead, how can he get mad?"

With that, I tossed my phone aside and started packing up the items Josiah had left in the house.

For the past three months, I'd mostly been searching for him in the city where he supposedly disappeared while skiing, making me rarely come home. The bedroom looked much the same, except for the bed.

When I opened the closet, I froze.

More than half of Josiah's clothes were gone. What remained were mostly items unfit to be worn this season.

Tears immediately streamed down my face as I let out a bitter, mocking laugh.

While combing through the snow mountains searching for Josiah, I'd come home only when I truly reached my breaking point. And during those days when I'd been on the edge of collapse, he'd returned home multiple times to retrieve his belongings.

I accessed the home security footage and fast-forwarded through the recordings from the past month.

Early in the month, Josiah had walked through the door with his arm around Monica. Two hours later, he left carrying an armful of clothes.

Mid-month, he carried her home. They didn't leave until the next morning.

Just two nights ago, they slipped in under the corner of darkness and left yesterday morning.

These were all the days when I was in the neighboring city, desperately hunting clues leading to his whereabouts.

I cried as I watched, not for Josiah, but for myself. I'd given up everyone for such a disgusting man, and it was simply not worth it!

While I lay awake, terrified for his safety, he was here in our home with his so-called "best friend", possibly even in our bed.

I gripped the edge of the desk hard, fighting to control my breathing so I wouldn't hyperventilate from the sobs.

The phone I'd left in the living room started ringing. I wasn't in the mood to pick up, but the caller relentlessly dialed.

After taking a deep, shaky breath, I walked out to the living room.

When I saw the caller ID, I was briefly stunned before quickly answering the call. "What's up, Claud?"

"Josiah isn't dead."

Immediately afterward, Claud Erikson sent a video.

I tapped on it. In the clip, Josiah and Monica were drinking a cross-cupped toast, their eyes so glued together it was almost obscene.

My breath hitched. My fingers started trembling, and even my voice sounded unsteady when I spoke. "I know he's alive."

On the other end, Claud seemed surprised before he let out a low laugh. "So why are you hosting his funeral?"

"Everyone keeps telling me he's dead. Since I trust them, it only makes sense that I host a funeral for him."

Claud was briefly silent. "Does that mean you're officially widowed now?"

"Yes."

Claud was Josiah's much younger, non-biologically related uncle. We'd barely crossed paths.

He was the first person to tell me the truth that Josiah wasn't dead, so I owed him for that.

"If you have time, Claud, you're welcome to pay your respects in seven days."

"I'll be there," he replied before sending another video. It showed someone holding up a phone to Josiah, who immediately slammed his glass onto the floor.

Next to him, Monica flinched before drawing soothing circles on his chest and murmuring words of reassurance.

The bar was too loud for me to make out what she said, but I saw Josiah's expression soften slightly. He even buried his face against her shoulder.

He must have been furious over my announcement, but I hadn't expected a few words from Monica to calm him down so well.

In the past, Josiah would make me spend a whole night reflecting on my mistakes whenever he lost his temper with me. Only after I admitted my wrongdoings would he grudgingly forgive me.

I closed my aching, sore eyes and saved both videos.

Just as I was about to turn off my phone, I received a call from Monica.

After I tapped on the answer button, deafening music exploded in my ear. She screamed over the line, "Nicole, are you seriously holding a funeral for Josiah? Have you lost your mind?

"I'm warning you—cancel it, or you'll be sorry when he gets back!"

I didn't wait for her to finish. Instead, I ended the call and turned off my phone. After dragging a blanket over myself, I curled up on the couch to sleep.

It was the soundest sleep I'd had in three months.

…

Early the next morning, I took the documents and officially had Josiah removed from the identity records. After completing the procedures, I went straight to Monica's place.

Her door was tightly shut. I had to repeatedly ring the doorbell before she finally answered the door.

She leaned against the doorframe in a strappy silk nightdress. A trail of red marks ran down her neck and disappeared beneath the fabric.

"Oh, it's you. What are you doing here?"

My gaze traveled from her neck to her face before meeting the look of open disdain in her eyes. "I hope you'll attend Josiah's funeral. After all, you were his closest best friend."

She rolled her eyes and sharply snapped, "You're his wife, Nicole! He's currently missing but not confirmed dead, and instead of searching for him, you're throwing him a funeral!

"What if he's alive? Are you trying to jinx him to death? What kind of wife does that?"

I produced the freshly issued death certificate from the state vital records office and gave a light laugh. "I couldn't find him after he'd been buried under snow for three months, so I took him off the records.

"Weren't you all the ones who told me to move on back then?"

When I first received the bad news, I'd passed out on the spot and woken up the next morning to find all of Josiah's so-called buddies crowding around my bed.

"Josiah went missing in a dangerous area. It's going to be near impossible to locate him, so shall we just call off the search?"

"Exactly. That place is a death trap, so you shouldn't go."

Still, I'd struggled out of bed and bought a ticket. After hiring a search-and-rescue team, I headed straight for the mountains.

For two solid weeks, I searched and barely slept.

Back then, I didn't notice why there hadn't been a shred of genuine worry in the eyes of Josiah's so-called buddies, only amusement.

As my words faded away, a loud crash came from within Monica's apartment.

Her expression shifted. "Don't try to stir things up, Nicole. When Josiah comes back, he won't let you off easy!"

Just like the night before, I acted as if I hadn't heard a thing. She glared at me and slammed the door shut.

Sounds of a heated argument drifted through the door.

Josiah finally couldn't sit still when he heard that I'd officially taken his name off the identity records, but there was no way I'd let him find me.

He'd disappeared for three months, so it wouldn't be too much if I went missing for a few days, would it?

I picked up the suitcase I'd packed in advance and had Carissa book a seven-day hotel stay under her ID.

For the next seven days, I spent my time holed up in the hotel room, apart from making arrangements for the funeral.

When Carissa came to visit, she looked downright gleeful. "Word is he's gone crazy trying to find you. He's practically turned the whole of Aquaria upside down."

I glanced at the missing-person notice playing on TV and smirked. "So what if he does? He won't find me if I don't want to be found.

"He said he'd show up once I've gone completely crazy searching for him, so why is he being so impatient right now?"