My marriage had always been perfect—until the day I came home from a business trip and found our backyard transformed into a venue for my funeral. Yes, my funeral. My husband, Jake, was standing at the front, greeting guests dressed in black. Confused, I asked myself, “What is going on?”
They say love makes people do crazy things, but hosting your living wife’s funeral? That’s a whole new level of insanity.
Let me backtrack a little. Jake and I had been married for six wonderful years. We met through my college friend, Rachel, at a dinner party, and I still remember how Jake cracked a terrible dad joke that had everyone laughing, even though the punchline was cheesy.
That night, I told Rachel, “He’s different from anyone I’ve ever met.”
Six months later, Jake proposed at our favorite coffee shop, and I didn’t hesitate to say yes. I knew right then that I had made the best decision of my life.
We decided to start a family soon after we got married, but things didn’t go as planned. Every month I’d get a negative result on the pregnancy test, and we couldn’t figure out why. After two years of trying, we sought help from fertility specialists, but every treatment was a failure.
The hardest part wasn’t just the empty test results—it was the constant pressure from well-meaning relatives. My Aunt Susan would ask at every family gathering, “Have you tried those fertility herbs I told you about? My neighbor’s daughter swears by them!”
Last Thanksgiving, my cousin announced she was pregnant. I excused myself from the room and locked myself in the bathroom to cry. Jake found me there, sobbing on the toilet lid.
He knelt down in front of me, his voice soft. “Hey, beautiful. Want to ditch this place and grab some terrible diner food?”
I laughed through my tears. “Everyone will know why we’re leaving.”
“Let them know,” he shrugged. “Their opinions don’t pay our bills or make us happy. We’re perfect just as we are.”
That’s Jake for you—always knowing how to lift my spirits when everything else felt heavy.
While the world seemed determined to make me feel incomplete for not having children, Jake made me feel whole and loved. Together, we built a life that was enough, just the two of us.
Now, let me share a bit about my professional life. I’ve been climbing the corporate ladder since I started my career, and I’m now a manager at a large firm, overseeing a team of fifteen people. Last quarter, we landed three major clients, and I couldn’t be prouder of our success.
Jake worked as an accountant at a smaller firm. He earned less than me, but that never bothered either of us. He got excited about small victories at work, like creating a new filing system or helping a junior colleague with a tricky spreadsheet.
“Guess what?” he’d say, bouncing into the kitchen after work. “I fixed that reconciliation issue that had everyone stumped!”
“That’s amazing! Tell me everything!” I’d reply with genuine enthusiasm.
Some of my friends didn’t quite get our dynamic. They found it strange that I earned more, that we didn’t have kids, and that we were perfectly content with our life. But Jake and I had always been on the same wavelength. That was, until last month—until the day my world turned upside down.
It all started when my boss, David, called me into his office.
“Lexi, we need you in Denver,” he said, looking at his computer screen. “The account is hanging by a thread, and you’re the only one who can save it.”
“Denver? When?” I asked, already feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“Tomorrow morning. For about a week.”
I felt a knot form in my stomach. The timing was terrible. The trip would mean missing Jake’s birthday weekend. We had been planning a huge BBQ party, and Jake had even bought a new grill for the occasion.
When I got home that evening, I found Jake happily chopping vegetables in the kitchen.
“Something smells amazing,” I said, trying to soften the news.
“Just trying out a new marinade for the party,” he grinned. “Want to taste?”
I hesitated before breaking the news. “Jake, I need to tell you something.”
He immediately put the knife down, sensing something was wrong.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to go to Denver. Tomorrow. For a week,” I said, bracing for his reaction.
His face fell. “But the BBQ…”
“I know. I’m so sorry. It’s this huge client, and David specifically asked for me. We’ll celebrate when I get back. Maybe even take that road trip we’ve been talking about?”
He forced a smile. “Yeah, sure. We can definitely do that.”
I watched him pick up the knife again, his movements slower now.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. It’s just a week. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Work is important,” he said, nodding slowly. “I get it.”
I hugged him from behind, trying to hold back my own tears. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” he murmured, but there was a sadness in his voice. “Just… come back soon, okay?”
The week in Denver was intense but successful. We managed to salvage the account and even expand it. I was thrilled to wrap things up early, eager to surprise Jake and make up for missing his birthday.
However, as I turned onto our street, I knew something was wrong. Cars lined both sides of the road, and people were walking toward our house. My heart started pounding. What had happened?
I parked quickly and rushed toward the backyard, where I heard murmurs and voices. When I stepped into the yard, my breath caught in my throat.
Rows of chairs were set up on the lawn. Flower arrangements covered every surface. At the front of the yard was a massive portrait of me, surrounded by black ribbons. My heart skipped a beat.
Was this… my funeral?
I felt like I was in a dream as I walked into the backyard. Guests gasped when they saw me. Some even dropped their drinks.
And there was Jake. He was standing at the front, greeting people like I was actually dead.
“Jake!” I called out, my voice shaking.
He spun around, his face turning bright red with anger.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“What am I doing here? What are YOU doing?” I snapped. “Jake, what is this? Why are you hosting my funeral?”
“Your mom told me the truth!” he shouted. “About your promotion. About Denver. About how you’re leaving me behind!”
I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. “My mom told you? You thought I was leaving you?”
“I thought you were going to abandon everything we built,” Jake said, his voice breaking. “You were going to leave me to settle in Denver. I know you’ve always put work before me, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to end everything. We don’t even have kids—”
“No, you idiot!” I interrupted, tears welling up in my eyes. “They offered you a position too! I was going to tell you after I got back from my trip. Together, Jake! I wanted us to make the decision together!”
Jake stood there, stunned, unable to speak.
Just then, my mom pushed through the crowd. “I thought he knew, sweetie,” she said, looking embarrassed. “I came here as soon as your neighbor called me about the funeral. I’ve been trying to talk sense into Jake…”
“Thanks for ruining everything, Mom!” I cut her off.
I turned back to Jake, my voice shaking with emotion. “This? This is how you respond to our problem? You throw me a funeral because you think I’m leaving you?”
Jake’s eyes were wide with shock, but his apology felt hollow. “I thought you’d leave me… because I don’t earn as much…”
“Enough, Jake,” I interrupted. “I’m staying at my mom’s tonight.”
I looked at her. “We need to have a serious talk about boundaries.”
As I walked away from the chairs, the flowers, and the absurd portrait, I realized that this funeral wasn’t just for the woman Jake thought was leaving him. It was a funeral for our marriage, for the trust we had built, and for the partnership I thought we had.
The next day, I accepted the promotion, but I also called a divorce lawyer. I had to leave Jake.
In the end, I realized something important: all those years of trying to have children had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. At least there weren’t any kids who had to witness their father throw a funeral for their living mother just to prove a point.
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