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?"

"Serves him right!" Carissa snapped. "I truly don't understand how monsters like him even exist."

She was getting more fired up by the second, so I quickly stopped her. "Enough. Today's Josiah's funeral, so we're supposed to be grieving."

As I spoke, I pulled out my cosmetics bag and applied makeup to dull the healthy flush on my face, layering on shadows until I looked worn down and heartbroken to the core.

After Carissa confirmed I did look haggard from the makeup, we headed to the funeral together.

On the way, I handed her a USB drive containing video proof that Josiah was alive and instructed her to play it on my cue. Once everything was set, I mass texted the funeral address.

Claud was the first to arrive. Dressed in a black suit, he stepped out of the car, walked up to me, took out a white mourning flower, and pinned it to his sleeve. With all due solemnity, he offered his condolences.

Next came a stream of relatives and friends who were still in the dark.

Their grief was genuine, and the sight made my heart clench with a dull ache.

"Josiah, how many hearts have you broken by faking your disappearance? Today, you're going to pay for everything you've done."

Josiah's so-called buddies came last. Their expressions were grim, each paler than the last. Even their hands trembled slightly when they took the mourning flowers from me.

Finally, one of them pulled me aside.

"Stop this, Nicole! Josiah isn't even dead. He's been searching for you like a madman these past few days.

"Haven't you seen the missing-person notices on TV?"

I blinked and forced out two difficult tears. "Don't try to console me. I know that Monica posted those notices.

"The dead can't come back to life, and I'm done clinging to false hope that he's still alive."

He tried to say more, but I shot Carissa a look. She promptly guided the man to a seat.

When most guests had arrived, I stepped onto the stage and adjusted the microphone. "Thank you, all, for taking the time to attend my late husband's funeral—"

My words were cut off by a sharp cry.

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

Monica stood at the entrance and glared at me with venomous eyes.

"Are you even his wife? He's been missing for three months, so why are you holding a funeral when we haven't even found him? I won't allow this!"

My gaze swept behind her, where there was no sign of Josiah. Even at that point, he still refused to show himself.

From the stage, I looked down at Monica and coldly said, "Who are you to have a say in this? As you just said, I'm his wife."

Her eyes widened and welled up with tears. "How could you be so heartless? Josiah loved you with all his heart, yet you casually declared him dead! What if he's still alive?"

My gaze drifted to her neck, where the red marks hadn't quite faded, and a faint smile touched my lips. "Even if he isn't, a cheating man isn't worth my time or effort."

With that, I gestured for someone to escort her aside and resumed the service.

I was just about to speak again when a disheveled, gaunt figure appeared at the door. He stood there, his voice breaking as he called out, "I'm not dead, babe. I'm back."