Only After Her Death Did My Wife Realize She Loved Me

Chapter 1

I’ve been at war with Tiffany for almost a decade.

She keeps a string of younger guys, and I hold tight to most of our assets.

We both have the other by the throat, neither willing to give an inch.

But today, I’m ready to divorce her because… I’m dying.

I stare at the diagnosis, then finally call Tiffany.

“Where are you?”

“What’s it to you?” We’re married, but even asking about each other’s whereabouts is considered an overstep.

“Come home.” I tap my fingers on the desk. “We’re getting a divorce.”

“Hah.” She scoffs and hangs up.

Figures. I’ve pulled this stunt too many times, usually just as an excuse to see her.

It’s no wonder she doesn’t believe me.

I wait two days. She doesn’t come home.

I look at the paper that spells out my expiration date.

I don’t want to waste another second.

There’s one other way to get to Tiffany. It’s never failed me.

“Knock, knock, knock!” I rap sharply on the door.

A pretty boy answers, eyes wide with fear, like I might tear him apart through the wood.

I roll my eyes. “Tell Tiffany to come home. Tell her I want a divorce. And make sure she gets the message. Out of all her boy toys, I’ve got the highest hopes for you. Maybe you’ll get promoted when we’re done. Being her husband comes with a hefty paycheck.”

The kid’s eyes well up. “Mr. Evans… I never…”

I sigh, cutting him off. “Spare me the dramatics. Just tell her. If she’s not back by tomorrow, I’m coming in to trash this place. You think you can stop me?”

I don’t bother waiting for a response. I turn and leave.

If I know Tiffany, I’ll see her tonight. She’s protective of Ethan, and I just challenged her on his doorstep. She won’t be able to resist.

Just as dusk settles, she storms in, furious.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from Ethan?!”

I pour myself a glass of wine, taking my time. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Her anger vibrates, but she can’t touch me. All she can do is throw words I don’t want to hear. “What’s the point of any of this? Ethan’s obedient. He’s never tried to replace you! We have no feelings for each other, you won’t divorce me, and you won’t even let me have someone I care about!”

“You just want everyone to be as miserable as you are!”

“Crash!” My wine glass shatters against the floor.

She’s right. I am miserable. That’s why I’ve clung to her all these years, refusing to let go even though we’re dead inside.

“Yeah, I’m all alone. So how dare you have a happy life?”

But inside, I’m tired. Every interaction with Tiffany for years has been like this. What’s the point?

I pour another glass of wine and sit across from her, sliding the divorce papers across the table. “Sign them.”

“I mean it this time.”

Tiffany’s face is tight as she reads through the agreement. I watch her through the wine, her face still beautiful, just like the girl who stood on my doorstep all those years ago.

“What are you playing at?” Her eyes narrow, suspicious.

I sigh. “I’m only keeping the house. Everything else is yours. All our joint assets. Don’t you see?”

Maybe I’ve asked for too much in the past. Now, suddenly offering so little, she thinks it’s a trick.

It makes sense. She’s a girl who needs her security, and money is that security.

The house is our marital home. It’s old, not worth much, but I can’t stand the thought of another man living there with her. I’m petty like that. I can’t bear to picture them happy together.

And, while it’s not worth much, I can sell it and buy a decent burial plot. Trading my living home for my final resting place. I came into this world with nothing, and I’ll leave with nothing. At least I’ll have peace.

Tiffany meticulously reviews the agreement again and again before finally speaking. “I’ll have my lawyer draw up a new one. You get the house, plus a million dollars. We’re completely done.”

I raise an eyebrow. Generous of her, buying out ten years of our lives for a million bucks.

“Your lawyer? My lawyer doesn’t trust your lawyer, so why should I?”

The fight goes out of me. My voice softens. “Forget it. I agree.”

She grabs the papers and heads for the door. “My assistant will bring the final agreement tomorrow. You’d better sign it immediately.”

She’s been waiting for this day. I have a feeling she’ll be calling her lawyers at midnight for an emergency meeting to discuss whether I’ve set a trap.

I shrug. “Fine. Whatever. The sooner, the better.”

She still eyes me with suspicion, sweetening the deal. “I expect you to leave Chicago once you have the money. We both need to move on. Right?”

Bitterness rises in my throat. I shove her out the door and close it firmly, out of sight, out of mind.

Tiffany’s assistant is definitely well-paid. He hands me the revised agreement and respectfully calls me, “Mr. Evans.”

“Yeah.”

The whole company knows about Tiffany and me. Ethan flaunts his special treatment, delivering her lunch to the office every day. And Tiffany, just to spite me, actually made him my assistant.

He didn’t last long. He went back to being her kept man, and she started trying to divorce me.

I haven’t been to the office in ages. Hardly anyone calls me “Mr. Evans” anymore. This young man is the only one.

I flip through the agreement and sign the last page.

“Mr. Evans, you can review it again if you’d like.”

“No need. There’s nothing left to see.”

I hand the agreement back with a smile. “Tell Ms. Tiffany I’ll see her at the courthouse in a month. Tell her not to be late.”

Don’t let her waste my precious time.

“Yes, sir.” The young man politely excuses himself. We both leave, him slightly ahead of me.

Tiffany wants me out of Chicago, and honestly, I don’t want to stay. I want to go home.

The drive is smooth, and I finally arrive in Springfield.

It’s been nearly five years since I was last here.

My first stop is the cemetery. “Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa. I’m here.”

Tiffany’s right. I am alone.

I sit down, leaning against their headstones. My parents died in a car accident when I was young. My grandparents passed away soon after I graduated college. I buried them close together, figuring it would make visiting easier.

“I bought a plot for myself nearby. Partly because I miss you all, and partly… well, the feng shui here seems good, haha.”

I don’t stay long. The early winter air is biting, and snowflakes start to fall. My feet are freezing.

“Okay, I’m heading back. I’ll see you all soon. We can have a proper chat then.”

I ramble on, brushing myself off and turning to leave.

School’s letting out. I pass Springfield High and pause.

Kids in their uniforms are all smiles. Back then, getting out of school, even for a weekend, was the best feeling.

I stand there for a long time, then walk toward the school.

“Hey, you! What’s your business here?” The security guard stops me.

“Teacher’s expecting me. Parent-teacher meeting. Really important, sir. Don’t want to make the teacher wait.”

Maybe it’s the redness around my eyes, or maybe my acting skills are top-notch, but the guard lets me through.

I breathe a sigh of relief and wander slowly through the grounds.

Students are sweeping up fallen leaves. A mischievous boy shoves a snowball down a girl’s back and she chases him with a broom, laughing.

I smile, watching them. It’s like I can almost see my younger self… and a younger Tiffany.

I shake my head and approach the main building, following my memory to the senior class, Room 5. Still on the first floor. The room is empty. I gently try the door handle. “Click.” It’s open.

I step inside, one slow step at a time, as if the stale air holds fragments of the past.

I count the rows, sit at my old desk, and bury my head in my arms.

“One, two, three.” This was my trick back in school. If I counted to three, Tiffany would appear.

I lift my head, and there she is, proud and tall, standing beside my desk, hand outstretched. “Alex, let’s go home.”

The setting sun, the most beautiful part of the day, bathes her in a golden glow.

“One, two, three.” I open my eyes. The vision shatters.

I exhale, pushing away the unwelcome fantasy. I stand and walk out.

At the door, I glance back one last time. In the silent room, a boy takes a girl’s hand and says, “Okay, let’s go home together.”

Then, in the blink of an eye, it’s gone, like a bubble bursting.

It’s all gone.

I spend a month in Springfield. Winter comes early here. Stepping back onto Chicago soil, I almost feel… warm.

“What took you so long?” Tiffany’s face is a mask of displeasure.

I yawn, walking past her.

“What, bringing your boy toy to a divorce? Getting remarried right after?” I glance at Ethan hovering awkwardly behind her.

“Behave yourself. Ethan’s not feeling well. I’m taking him to the hospital after this.”

I rub my hands together, irritation simmering. “Fine. Take him to get checked out. I’ll wait.”

Tiffany grabs my arm. “Just get this over with. Don’t make a scene.”

I don’t budge. “Don’t paw at me. Not here. Not in public.”

Ethan starts whimpering behind her, tugging at her sleeve. “Don’t fight. Please, don’t fight.”

Nausea rolls through me. “Tiffany, if you weren’t making such a spectacle of yourself, I’d sign these papers right now. So either knock me out and drag me inside, or get lost.”

Tiffany’s face flames red. Clearly worried about Ethan, she throws me a venomous look and pulls him away.

The anger sits heavy in my chest. I think for a moment, then buy a baseball bat from a nearby store. I test the weight, satisfied, then hop in a cab and head to Joy’s apartment.

I call a locksmith, then the building manager.

“Who owns this unit?”

The manager replies respectfully, “Ms. Tiffany Carter.”

I smile, showing him my marriage certificate. “This is marital property. Would you mind letting me in?”

The locksmith gets the door open quickly. I pay them both and stride inside.

Tiffany likes taking pictures with him. The place is full of them.

After graduation, Tiffany was always busy. We rarely took photos together anymore. First, we slept back to back. Then in separate rooms. Then, eventually, separate lives. That’s when I realized it was over, because that’s when the parade of boys began.

I walk around the apartment, casually smashing a jade figurine. It was my grandmother’s favorite. I bought it for her, but she didn’t make it through that winter.

It was a beautiful piece. I gave it to Tiffany.

And she gave it to her boy toy to keep him happy.

“Hah.” I don’t hesitate any longer. I swing the bat, the whooshing sound filling the air as I demolish everything in sight.

I swing too hard. “Plop, plop.” Liquid drips onto the floor. I swipe at my nose, wiping away the blood, and then I’m face to face with a shocked Ethan and a livid Tiffany.

“Alex! Evans!”

I drop the bat at Ethan’s feet, staring straight at Tiffany. “Tomorrow. We meet at the courthouse.”

I finally feel some release. I don’t want this marriage for another second.

“Alex Evans, I’ve had it with you!” Tiffany’s voice is thick with rage.

My nose bleeds again. I tilt my head back, trying to stop the flow, and her words become muffled.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tiffany asks, frowning.

“Heartburn. From you and your boy toy.”

“Tiffany, I’ve had it with you too. Let’s just get this divorce. You go your way, I’ll go mine. Let’s never see each other again.”

And in the next life… let’s not meet either.

It hurts too much. It all hurts too much.

Chastened by the previous day’s events, Tiffany shows up alone. We don’t speak a word, just sign the papers. The stamp comes down, and we finally have our divorce certificates in hand.

Tiffany doesn’t waste a second. She turns and walks away without a single glance back.

I watch her go, thinking of a winter night long ago, when I slipped a warm water bottle into her hands, and she said, “Alex, don’t go. Stay with me a while longer.”

Such warm hands. Such a bright gaze. She kept me warm through so many cold winters.

I exhale, wiping my eyes, and board the bus out of Chicago.

Tiffany, I guess… this is goodbye.

I check into a hospital and halfheartedly start treatment.

“Room 18! You pulled your IV out again!”

The nurse, a young woman named Chloe, is all business, efficient and… not afraid to tell me off.

I shrink back, letting her scold me. “Do you even want to get better?! Answer me!”

I roll my eyes, half-truth spilling out. “It felt cold. Really. Can I get a small hot water bottle, please?”

Chloe eyes me skeptically, but she comes back with a small hand warmer.

“Don’t you dare pull that IV out again!” She bends down, her voice softer. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

I look into her eyes and feel a surprising pang of sadness. It’s been so long since anyone asked me if I was hurting. The people who cared are long gone.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks, Nurse Chloe.”

It’s a lie. After just two weeks, my hands are numb with needle pricks. The pain keeps me up at night, so I wander the halls, IV pole in tow.

Nurse Chloe is the only one at the nurses’ station, wiping tears from her eyes.

I knock softly on the counter. “What’s wrong?”

“Shh!” She looks around before whispering, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

I gesture to the IV pole. “Couldn’t sleep. Taking a walk.”

She looks at me, reaches out, and feels my forehead. “Are you in pain?”

I’m about to say no, but then, inexplicably, I nod.

She beckons me closer. I push open the gate and sit beside her. I eat a giant, overly sweet muffin, watch five episodes of a soapy drama with her, and use half a box of tissues. We stay up until dawn before she finally sends me back to bed.

“Wait for me! We’re watching this together, okay? I remember where we left off. Don’t you dare sneak ahead!” I tell her.

Chloe laughs and agrees. “Go on, get some sleep!”

After three nights of late-night TV with Chloe, I get a call from Tiffany.

“Where are you?”

I frown, signaling Chloe to pause the show. “What do you want?”

She sounds taken aback, then hangs up abruptly. My good mood evaporates. I block her number.

Tiffany, used to getting her way, won’t give up that easily. I finally fall asleep, only to be jolted awake by her relentless calls.

Oh, right. She used to be a daddy’s girl, too.

“Hello!” My voice is rough with sleep.

“Why aren’t you home?” Tiffany’s voice comes through the speaker.

I force myself to be patient. “What is it?”

“Which account should I deposit the money into?”

“Any one will do.” I mumble, ready to hang up.

“Wait!”

I hold the phone closer. “What now?”

“Why aren’t you home?” She starts repeating herself, but then something clicks. “Are you at my house?”

“Get out of there. I’ve listed the house with a realtor. People could show up any minute. We’re divorced. Don’t mess with my money.”

“You’re selling?” Her voice rises sharply. “You’re selling the house?”

“What else am I supposed to do with it?”

You’re not coming back.

“Where are you?” She asks again, her voice serious.

“Go to sleep, Tiffany.” I lose my patience, hanging up, blocking her number, and deleting her contact, all in one swift motion. Then, I lie awake until dawn.

Angry or not, I still have to go through my treatments with Nurse Chloe. Being back in my hometown, I inevitably run into people I know.

“Alex?”

I turn to see my best friend from high school. “Ben?”

Old friends have to catch up.

With Chloe’s permission, I get a rare few hours out.

I choose a hot pot restaurant.

“How are you doing?” Ben asks carefully.

I smile. “Not bad. Got some money, but not much time left.”

His chopsticks clatter to the table. He stares at me, stunned.

I pop a piece of meat into my mouth before noticing the tears streaming down his face.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Why the waterworks?” I fumble for napkins, wiping his cheeks.

“What is it? What’s wrong with you?”