I Died. My Resentful Wife Lost Her Mind. The Dark Secret Revealed.

My brother Michael was in a terrible car accident on his way to meet me for drinks. His body was never found.

When my wife Sophia heard the news, she slapped me hard across the face.

Gripping my neck, she screamed in anguish, “I married you, but you still couldn’t leave him alone! Why? Why couldn’t it have been you who died instead!”

Years later, I was working late one night when a serial killer started stalking me. As I held my breath, desperately trying not to be discovered, Sophia’s sudden phone call shattered the silence.

She immediately launched into a tirade: “It’s so late, why aren’t you home yet? Are you dead somewhere? Or are you planning to get someone else killed?”

I had no chance to respond before the killer’s knife plunged into my body.

Later, I was dismembered, my bones dissolved in acid and scattered across the wilderness.

When Sophia was called in to examine the remains, she didn’t even recognize me.

It wasn’t until Michael returned with his new girlfriend, eight years his junior, that Sophia finally realized those scattered remains were mine.

She collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

But it was all too late.

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