Seven Years of Marriage I Sent Myself to the Crematorium - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Feigning ignorance, Asher pulled me into his arms, offering comfort. “I’ll invest in a few movies for you to have fun with. How about that? I also planned a surprise for you tonight at Harborfront. My love for you is far more important than some movie role.”

I forced a smile. Words that once felt sweet as honey now tasted like stale, cloying frosting.

Still, to avoid arousing his suspicion, I swallowed my bitterness and replied, “Alright.”

After expressing my gratitude to Anthony and other industry veterans, I excused myself, intending to leave early wanted to take me for a drive instead.

But just before the car started, his phone buzzed with a message. I glanced at the screen from the corner of my eye. The number was familiar. It was Serena’s.

His expression shifted instantly. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face as he turned to me. “Lila, something urgent just came up at work. Can you head to Harborfront on your own?”

I froze, then smiled lightly, “It’s fine. Go handle your business.”

Asher kissed my forehead before retreating back to the party. I started the car, not toward Harborfront but back to the Whitman Villa. The rest of the night would be devoted to preparing staged death tomorrow.

I collected every trace of my past with Asher. Online, I wiped every file and even deleted backups from the cloud. Offline, I gathered everything and planned to burn it all.

Just as I was finishing, a notification popped up on my phone. It was an anonymous text. The message began with a photo of Asher, drunk, resting beside Serena. The accompanying words cut like a blade.

[He has a stomach condition, yet he drank like his life depended on it to shield me. Lila, you won’t blame me for that, will Graham family to take my projects, he compensates me a hundredfold behind the scenes. Do you know why?]

[Did you know that Asher has been my little shadow since we were kids? He’s only ever loved me. Marrying you was just a precaution to keep you in check.]

[Surely you didn’t actually believe someone would fall in love with you out of the blue, did you?]

[He told me that every night, he could only touch you by imagining you were me. He also said you’re just Ethan’s discarded secondhand woman because you didn’t give him your first time, and you are disgusting.]

The texts kept pouring in like relentless snowflakes, but I remained unfazed.

Once I had moved the mannequin into the bedroom and ensured the setup would burn thoroughly, I drenched the entire house in gasoline. Before leaving, I forwarded every message Serena had sent me to the most notorious tabloid team in the entertainment industry.

Then, I snapped my SIM card in half and tossed it into the nearby bushes. With a press of the ignition button, the flames roared to life behind me as I walked away, my silhouette fading into the distance.

The road ahead was pitch black, but it didn’t matter. I knew I would find daylight eventually.

I glanced down at Serena, his voice conveying unintentional reproach. “Serena, why are you here? Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary with Lila. If she finds out, she’ll get suspicious.”

Serena’s eyes reddened as tears welled up. “Are you blaming me?”

Asher was panicked, and he quickly backtracked. “No, no, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry, Serena.

Serena crossed her arms and huffed softly, barely satisfied by his apology. Meanwhile, calls from the Whitman Villa’s butler kept interrupting, Asher repeatedly silencing them with an irritated frown. After the tenth or so attempt, unease crept in.

The butler said frantically, “Mr. Whitman… Mrs. Whitman set fire to the house and took her own life! We tried our best to put out the flames, but it was too late. There’s nothing left to save.”