Till Death Do Us Part, And I Chose Death

The entire world envied the perfect relationship I had with my husband and son. Yet, only I knew the truth. My husband had built another family somewhere else with our son by his side.

On the night George Taylor took our son to celebrate his "unforgettable first love" winning the prestigious Best Actress Award at the Achievers Awards Festival, I stumbled upon a video that shattered my world completely.

I chose to fake my death and leave them for good. In one week, I would disappear forever. Neither father nor son would be a part of my life anymore, I didn't want them in my life.

***

"Miss Taylor, are you certain about staging your own death as a car accident on the tenth of this month? Driving off the Riverside Bridge?"

I hesitated briefly, but the image of George and Candice in that video replayed in my mind. The way he touched her, the way he whispered her name. It stiffened my resolution. So, I nodded resolutely.

"I have one more request," I added. "Make sure George sees it happen. I want him to witness the car going over the bridge with his own eyes."

If I couldn't have George's undivided love, I would ensure that he spent the rest of his life consumed by unrelenting regret.

"That request…," the voice on the other end of the phone hesitated.

"Money is not an issue," I interjected. The, after I hung up the phone, I glanced at the family photo nearby. The three of us were beaming with joy. My gaze softened with nostalgia.

I still remember the day he proposed, how George had been so nervous that he could barely speak. On the day of our wedding, he had been so overcome with emotion that he wept in front of our guests.

When our son was born, he lovingly wiped the sweat from my brow. He told me that one child was enough. He had even secretly undergone a vasectomy to ensure it.

We had once been so happy, the picture-perfect family everyone envied.

No matter how busy George was, he would always come home with a bouquet of flowers. He always said, "Loving you is like tending a garden. I want to see you bloom every day."

Even our son, Dan Taylor, mimicked his father's gestures. He would proudly carry my bag when we went out and insisted on being my little gentleman. His small face would flush red from the effort, but he never let me worry about a thing.

Who would have thought that the husband and son everyone saw as the epitome of devotion were secretly fawning over another woman?

Countless nights when George claimed to be "away on business," he was whispering sweet words to someone else. Even our son, Dan, had begun calling the woman "sister" with unreserved affection.

That father and son had built a new life outside and hid it from me for three whole years.

I never imagined that after