My Husband Died to Join Me: When the Truth Came Out

After Leo was born, death became my very first thought upon waking every single day.

Alex burst through the bathroom door, wrested the razor blade from my grip, and pulled my entire body into his arms. His tears fell into the hollow of my neck, scalding hot.

"We'll get through this," he whispered. "No matter how sick you get, you are still my Chloe."

By day, he pushed his company toward an IPO in the boardroom; by night, he paced the living room with Leo in his arms; by morning, he drove me to my psychiatrist himself.

The man who never yielded an inch at the negotiating table grew thinner by the day, his eye sockets terrifyingly hollow. Yet he never once complained of being tired.

Until that evening.

He pushed the door open to find Leo crying himself hoarse in the crib, while I sat on the floor, the edge of a blade pressed against my arm.

A slap landed across my face. My head snapped to the side, my ears ringing.

"If you couldn't do this, why did you even have him?" he yelled. "Women all over the world are mothers, and you're the only one who can't handle it? Stop using your illness as an excuse!"

He grabbed the pill bottle, unscrewed the cap, and shook the capsules into my palm before forcing my fingers closed, one by one.

"Haven't you always wanted to leave? Then let me help you."

I didn't struggle, nor did I shed a tear. I just looked at him quietly, waiting for him to guide my hand to my mouth.

Suddenly, a tender, childish voice drifted from the nursery.

"Mama."

I snapped back to reality and instinctively tried to rush over.

But someone was faster.

A woman leaned down and picked Leo up. He buried his face in her shoulder, and his cries gradually subsided.

"Mrs. Carter," she said, her tone gentle but yielding no ground. "Given your current state, you really should stay away from the child."

It was only then that I learned Alex had hired a new executive assistant. Young, poised, and efficient. She was even more adept at soothing my child than I was.

Alex stepped up beside her. As he looked at her and Leo, his eyes softened.

I recognized that look. It was the exact same way he used to look at me.

They looked far more like a real family.

And I... I was finally ready to die.

Leo's fever spiked to a hundred and two.

My entire body ached as if I’d been dismantled bone by bone, and I couldn't even manage to tuck a blanket properly around him.

I tried to lean in to check on him, but Alex blocked my way.

"Take care of yourself first."

Vanessa slipped a coat over Leo, and Alex smoothly took the baby from her. They didn't even need to speak. Their silent coordination felt as if it had been rehearsed a thousand times.

I retreated to the wall, watching them cross the foyer, get into the car, and disappear at the far end of the estate.

Whenever he was with Vanessa, the tension between Alex's brows vanished. And the way she held the baby truly made her look more like a mother than I ever did.

What if I were no longer around?

Would his life be a little easier? Would he be able to start over with her?

I thought of the sleeping pills—the bottle was likely still full. After that night, Alex had locked it in the master bedroom's safe, afraid I would swallow them all at once while he was away.

I stood before the safe, testing passcodes one by one.

He usually used birthdays.

My birthday.

Incorrect.

His own.

Incorrect.

Leo's.

Still incorrect.

My finger hovered over the keypad, hesitating to press down.

Last month, the company had celebrated Vanessa's birthday. Alex still had the photo of the cake-cutting saved on his phone.

I punched in that date.

The door popped open with a click.

There were no sleeping pills. There was only an unlabeled small bottle containing a few black capsules.

Pinned beneath the bottle was a sticky note in his business partner's handwriting:

[Takes effect within three minutes. Autopsy will likely conclude it as a sleeping pill overdose. But she will suffer immensely. Be cautious.]

I stared at those lines, and a faint smile actually tugged at the corners of my mouth.

So that was it.

He had already anticipated this step all along.

Strangely, I couldn't find even a trace of hatred within me. Over the past year, I had watched how he struggled to hold everything together.

Dealing with those old foxes on the board of directors by day, getting up to mix formula, change diapers, and coax the baby to sleep by night, all while keeping a constant eye on me, terrified I might do something stupid at any given second.

I had wanted to stand up and share some of his burden, too. But this illness had been like an invisible hand, slamming me back down time and time again.

What had kept me alive until today was the night he cried and begged me to stay, and the time Leo called out "Mama."

But now, he no longer needed me to stay.

And Leo could sleep peacefully in someone else's arms.

I had nothing left to hold onto.

Alex, please live a better life from now on.

I swallowed the capsules, lay back down on the bed, and pulled the covers up to my chest.

It wasn't until then that it occurred to me—when they came back and opened the door, they would be terrified.

I tried to get up, to find another place.

But my body no longer obeyed me.

The metallic taste of blood surged from deep within my throat, and I clamped my hands tightly over my mouth.

I couldn't stain the bedsheets. They were his favorite set.

But the blood still seeped through my fingers, soaking through the pregnancy pillow beneath me.

As my consciousness began to scatter, the sound of the front door opening drifted from downstairs.

Someone came upstairs. Unhurried footsteps approached, then stopped right beside the bed.

I tried to force my eyelids open, but everything before me had already blurred into a haze.

A cold hand grasped the duvet, pulling it up to my chin.

The movement was incredibly gentle.

"Have a good sleep."

The door clicked shut, and the sound of high heels gradually faded down the hall.

My vision plummeted into total darkness.