I believed I was living my ideal life when I married Damian, but everything turned into a nightmare before the celebration. I ended up burying my husband just three days after our wedding, only to see him behind the wheel of a taxi.
This isn’t something I can share with those around me, so I have to confide in the anonymity of the internet. You can call me Paige. I’m 28, and just a few months ago, I was the perfect bride.
But my soulmate, whom you might refer to as Damian, died after we said “I do.” They say that when death is near, life flashes before your eyes, but for me, my whole relationship played back as I saw him fall to the ground.
Damian and I met at a small café where I used to work part-time. He was one of those quiet, respectful customers who always left good tips and sat reading a book while sipping coffee.
I had a crush on him from the moment I saw him. When he asked me out, I was stunned. He was handsome, with sharp cheekbones, kind hazel eyes, and quiet confidence.
I was just a typical girl from a middle-lower-class family, so I couldn’t believe he was interested in me. But he was, and from our first walk on a local pier, it felt like destiny.
A year later, we stood at the altar in front of our closest friends. It was the happiest day of my life. Damian kept smiling at me as I cried reading my vows. We were about to start the next wonderful chapter together.
But that dream ended suddenly. Before the reception, during some photos with friends, Damian suddenly collapsed. At first, I thought he was joking. But when he didn’t get up, I froze.
People gathered around him, and someone called 911. Paramedics worked on him right there on the dance floor, but nothing helped.
They rushed him to the hospital, and I followed in a daze. Hours later, a doctor appeared with a serious expression and told me Damian had died. They said it was a heart attack. He was only 32. How does a healthy man die like that?
I could hardly hold myself together over the next few days. Everything was a blur until the funeral when his family arrived. I’d only met them once before, and that one encounter was enough.
Damian had warned me about them but hadn’t told me everything. His adoptive parents were arrogant and controlling. However, one of Damian’s friends, Adam, told me they were also extremely wealthy.
They said, “Damian didn’t reveal his family’s wealth because he didn’t want it to affect how you saw him,” in a low voice.
Honestly, I never knew despite him mentioning he ran a successful business. But it made sense. That was probably why they disapproved of us. I wasn’t from the “right” background, and Damian hadn’t invited them to the wedding.
Now they were here, glaring at me with their eyes during the service. I overheard his mother whispering to someone, “She was probably after his money and caused his death. Call our lawyer.”
I wanted to yell that I didn’t even know Damian had money, let alone wanted it. But it wouldn’t do any good. They had already formed their opinions, and I was too tired to argue.
Three days after the funeral, I couldn’t handle the grief and emptiness anymore. My apartment felt stifling, with every corner reminding me of Damian.
The sadness overwhelmed me and started to make me think strange thoughts. His family had also begun calling me. I never answered, but their voice messages terrified me.
I needed to leave, so I packed some clothes in a small bag, grabbed my passport, and ordered a taxi. My plan wasn’t fully developed. I just knew I needed to get out of the city or country. Maybe I’d go to Mexico or Aruba—anywhere but here.
When the taxi arrived, I got into the backseat and stared out the window. I hardly noticed the driver as I settled into the leather seat and tried to breathe deeply.
“Fasten your seatbelt, please,” the driver suddenly said.
I froze. My chest tightened, and my heart beat faster. That voice was Damian’s. I turned my head sharply and looked in the rearview mirror. Those eyes—familiar hazel eyes.
“Damian?” I managed to say. “But…? How? How are you here? What?”
My words made no sense, but suddenly, he veered the car away from the road toward the highway and stopped on a quiet street. For a moment, he didn’t say anything.
I could see his hands gripping the wheel tightly, as if bracing for something. Then he turned and looked directly at me.
“I’m sorry, Paige,” he said softly, without warning. “I know this is a lot to take in. I’ll explain everything. Please don’t hate me.”
I sat wide-eyed with my mouth open while Damian explained. It was too unbelievable.
He told me about his background. They adopted him as a teenager and used his intelligence to grow their shady business empire, which was close to failing when he arrived. He became the mastermind behind some of their most profitable—and probably illegal—ventures.
For a while, he was happy to have loving parents and contribute to the family that gave him a home. But he tired of the illicit dealings.
Damian knew they would catch him eventually, and he didn’t want to be left with nothing. So, he started a legitimate company and built it so successfully that he decided to cut ties with his family.
But that made them angry. They wanted to control his new business, and Damian managed to delay their interference until he met me. Still, their illegal enterprise was struggling without him.
They threatened to ruin me and our lives if Damian didn’t give them a share.
“I couldn’t let them hurt you,” Damian said, rubbing his face. “They would have destroyed you to get to me. So I did the only thing I could—I made them believe I was dead.”
He explained how he staged everything. There’s a drug that slows your heart so much it looks like death. With the help of a fixer who knew the right people, he faked the collapse, the hospital declaration, and even the funeral.
When I asked how he escaped his grave, Damian chuckled and said he wasn’t actually in the coffin. He was there for the viewing, but the fixer’s team took him out at some point without anyone noticing.
I was speechless when he finished. Was I in some kind of heist movie?
“I know I hurt you,” he said with tears in his eyes. “But I did it for us. I couldn’t let them win.”
My mouth opened, but no words came. We sat in silence in the car for hours, only whispering apologies.
Finally, as night fell, I asked him to take me home.
That’s when I lost my temper. I spent hours shouting while he tried to justify his actions. “YOU LET ME THINK YOU WERE DEAD!” I yelled.
“I’m sorry, Paige!”
“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”
By morning, I was exhausted and hoarse. I finally asked, “What now?” We couldn’t go back to how things were. He was assumed dead. His family could see him here.
Damian then shared his plan. By faking his death, he transferred all his legitimate assets to me. His family couldn’t seize them now. All I had to do was sell and split everything with him.
He then told me he would leave the country for good. I was still in shock when he asked me something strange.
“Would you come with me?” he asked.
I scoffed, stayed silent for a long moment, and then spoke.
I told him, “I can’t just pick up where we left off, even abroad. I’ll handle the assets and the money, but you broke my heart. I don’t trust you enough to start over. I need time and space.”
He nodded seriously. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I leave later today. But I won’t give up on us, Paige. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
He left his contact info and promised to check in when possible.
The next weeks, I was furious. I refused to reply to his messages. Still, I began organizing the sale of his business and assets. This caused trouble with his parents, who wanted to claim his inheritance after his “death.”
I had to see them with lawyers present, and they were intimidating.
But the law was on my side. They couldn’t legally take anything from me, and my lawyers weren’t afraid of them. They backed off, and I could sell what I needed.
Eventually, I saw Damian’s actions as protective. It was reckless and foolish but also selfless.
After some time, I realized I still loved him. Despite everything, my heart hadn’t let go. I picked up my phone and dialed his number.
“Paige?” he answered, surprised.
“Where are you?” I asked. “I’ll come to you, but don’t ever do that again.”
That was the end. Now, I live in another country, where they speak a different language, but the beach is only half an hour away.
I had to give up everything, and it was worth it. Damian and I had another wedding and finally enjoyed it. His parents will never find us, and we’re happy.
