Chapter 2

2

I pulled up the security footage and fast-forwarded through the last month.

At the start of the month, Mark had walked in with his arm around Jamie, leaving two hours later with a ton of clothes.

Mid-month, he’d carried Jamie into the house, and Jamie hadn't left till the morning.

A couple of nights ago, they'd come home under the cover of darkness, leaving early yesterday morning.

I had been looking for him in the next state over when these things had happened.

I watched the screen as tears streamed down my face, not for Mark, but for myself.

How had I fallen for such a scum bag?

I had been losing sleep, worrying about him, while he and his "bro" were sleeping in my house, maybe even my bed.

I clenched my fist and willed myself not to start hyperventilating.

The phone rang.

I didn’t want to answer but it kept ringing.

I took a deep breath, got up and looked at the caller ID.

It was Mark's uncle, Ben Harrison. I quickly answered. “Uncle Ben, is everything okay?”

“Mark’s not dead.”

He sent a video.

It was Mark and Jamie doing a sake bomb, their eyes glued to one another.

My breath hitched, and my fingers trembled as I spoke. “I know he’s not dead.”

The man sounded surprised, but then laughed. “Then why are you planning a funeral?”

“Everyone kept saying he was dead. I wanted to believe it. So, he gets a funeral.”

Ben was silent for a second. “So you’re saying you’re widowed?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

Ben Harrison was Mark's uncle by adoption, and I barely knew him.

He was the first person to tell me straight up that Mark was alive. I felt like I owed him something for that.

“If you’re free next week, you can come to the service.”

“I will.”

Then another video came through.

Mark’s friends are showing him something on their phone and he throws his drink. Jamie puts her hand on his chest like she’s trying to calm him down.

The bar was too loud for me to hear, but I could see Mark's face soften. He even buried his face in Jamie’s shoulder.

He must have seen my mass text, and he got pissed. And, somehow, just a few words from Jamie had soothed him.

Whenever he got mad at me, he’d make me spend the night thinking about what I did wrong. Only then he would forgive me.

I closed my eyes, saved the videos, and set the phone down.

Right then, Jamie called.

I answered, and the loud music in the background nearly deafened me.

Jamie was shouting. “Chloe! Are you planning a memorial service for Mark? Are you crazy? Cancel that thing now! If he ever sees it when he comes back, you’ll be sorry!”

Before she finished, I hung up, grabbed a blanket, and crashed on the couch.

It was the first good sleep I’d had in three months.

The next morning, I went down to the courthouse to get Mark declared officially deceased.

Once I got the paperwork, I went to Jamie’s place.

Her front door was closed, and it took me several tries on the doorbell before I heard footsteps.

She was wearing a silk robe, leaning against the doorframe, and there was evidence of a good time all over her neck and collarbone.

“Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

I glanced at her neck, then her face, which held nothing but contempt.

“I wanted to invite you to Mark’s memorial service. Seeing as you were his ‘best bro’ after all.”

Jamie rolled her eyes and sneered. “Chloe, you’re his wife. He went missing three months ago. Instead of looking for him, you’re just planning a funeral?

“What if he’s not dead? Are you trying to wish him into his grave? What kind of a wife does that?”

I pulled the death certificate from my bag, laughing. “He's been under the snow for three months. I couldn't find him, so he's officially dead now.”

“That’s what everyone told me to do. To move on.”

When I’d gotten the bad news, I’d fainted.

The next morning all of Mark's friends were sitting around my bed.

"Honey, the area he went missing is really dangerous, it’s going to be hard to find anyone. Maybe you should just give up.”

"Yeah, it's a lost cause."

I’d gotten up, booked a ticket, hired a rescue team and headed to the mountains.

For two and a half weeks I didn’t sleep or eat.

I hadn’t noticed then, how there wasn’t any panic in any of his so-called friend’s eyes. Just amusement.

Jamie’s jaw dropped, and then I heard a crash from inside her apartment.

She glared at me and warned, “Don’t pull anything stupid. When Mark gets back you’ll be sorry!”

I ignored her, like I had the night before, and walked away.