I Bought My Grave, Now My Husband Lives in It

"Are you sure you want to choose this cemetery for yourself? You have only a month left with your cancer, and your husband is still spending time with his first love. Do your family even know?"

I stared at the headstone where my photo had already been set in stone.

The sight squeezed my chest. I nodded faintly, my heart heavy.

Peter Young, my husband, could easily spend thousands on his old flame, Leila Fields, without hesitation.

But for my cancer treatment? Not a single dollar.

To survive, I had to return to my parents and ask for help, but even they doubted me.

“Stop lying! You look totally fine. Cancer? Please. You’re just trying to scam us for money.”

My daughter went a step further. She used my savings to buy a cake just to make Leila happy.

My family had stopped seeing me a long time ago.

Three days ago, unexpectedly, Peter invited me on a boat trip. Leila also came along.

Then a storm hit. The boat capsized.

Peter held Leila in one arm, our daughter in the other, and climbed onto the rescue boat.

He didn’t even glance back to check on me.

Three days later, I was rescued from the ocean by a cargo ship just before death. I had lost my baby, and my body was broken.

When I finally made it home, barely alive, laughter floated down from the bedroom upstairs. It pierced me like a knife.

“I already spent three whole days with you, and you’re still not satisfied?” Peter’s voice dripped with amusement. “If you hadn’t mentioned her, I would’ve forgotten about her entirely. She was just a fill-in while you weren’t around. If I can’t find her again, I’ll just go public with us and the baby you’re carrying.”

“Yey!” my daughter squealed. “I can finally call Leila ‘Mom’!”

My hand froze in mid-air, just inches from the doorknob. My body began to tremble. I instinctively reached for my belly, which was now flat and hollow.

A sharp, crushing pain exploded in my chest. I staggered toward the first-aid box for my meds, only to find it filled with Leila’s favorite snacks that Peter had packed for her.

Holding back tears, I quickly ran out the door.

I didn’t make it far.

Someone collided with me. I fell hard, and just before I blacked out, a bitter thought echoed in my mind:

'I never got my revenge.'

As darkness fell, I thought I saw Peter’s face. Blood gathered around him. He sank to his knees, shouting my name.

"Selene!"

...

But it wasn’t Peter.

When I realized it was Ryan, his younger brother, disappointment crept in like a shadow. My eyes fluttered shut.

Ryan was completely different from Peter. He disliked how fake Leila was and never tried to hide it. He had just returned from studying abroad, never expecting our paths to cross like this.

Moments later, I was in the back of an ambulance.

At the hospital, the doctor gave Ryan a grim look. "You'd better call the family. She might not make it.”

Panic set in.

Immediately, Ryan grabbed his phone and called Peter.

“Peter, Selene’s in the hospital. It’s bad. You need to come now!”

But all Ryan received was a cold laugh from Peter.

“What, she’s crying to you again? I already heard someone fished her out of the water. Tell her to drop the act."

Peter’s words cut through me like an ice pick. Then, there was a brief silence.

His voice turned soft as he coaxed someone. “Leila, don’t be jealous. It was just Ryan calling. I’d never bother contacting her myself. Don’t be mad. You have to be careful now for the baby’s sake.”

Wet, smacking kisses and the sound of heavy breathing echoed through the line.

I didn’t need to imagine it. I knew exactly what they were doing.

Ryan’s face instantly paled as he slammed the phone shut.

“A baby? You’ve got to be kidding me…” he muttered, his eyes wide with disbelief.

I managed a weak smile. I was too numb to feel anything anymore.

“Ryan... don’t bother. It’s no use.”

The words escaped my lips as if they were made of stone.

Ryan shook his head violently.

"No, Selene. If it weren’t for you back then and your help to ensure I could study abroad, I wouldn’t have had that opportunity. You can’t give up! I promise I’ll find another doctor."

I blinked, stunned. His words triggered a blurry memory.

In the past, Leila's failed startup drained all of Peter's finances, leaving Ryan unable to pay for his tuition. And so, I was the one who gave him money for school.

What did that get me? Peter accuses me of hoarding cash instead of helping Leila.

To him, none of us mattered as much as her. Everything went to Leila.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

On the other end, Peter roared, “Selene! Why the hell are the cops here? It’s one thing for you to report me, but why accuse Leila of attempted murder? Get your ass back here and clear this up!"

His fury felt like someone hammering nails into my chest.

Leila had deliberately thrown out my medication, fully aware of the consequences. I suffered an attack and nearly died without it.

Peter didn’t ask what happened. Instead, he blamed me for not storing it properly.

But I had hidden it carefully in the corner of my wardrobe. I knew exactly where I had left it.

The pain crashed over me like a wave. The heart monitor spiked, its beeping sharp and frantic. The room blurred, spinning out of control.

Just before I blacked out, I heard alarms blaring in the distance and Ryan's frantic voice.

Gripping the phone in his hand, he shouted, “Go back? Peter, Selene’s dying, and all you care about is that woman? Are you fucking serious?!”