After Foreseeing My Husband's Death, I Became the Perfect Wife

1: 1

The day I found out I was pregnant, my husband Abner Gilbert brought his young mistress home, her belly big and round, and laid it all out for me.

Men are just like that. You can't expect one to stay with a single woman his whole life.

Even if you're angry with me, the child is innocent.

Have it born, let it call you Mom. Saves you the suffering, doesn't it?

I meant to divorce him and end the pregnancy.

Then, out of nowhere, I heard the voice of the baby inside me.

"Mom, don't be a fool!"

"In three days my dad's going to die in a car crash. The engine explodes and he burns to ash on the spot."

"After that, I'm the only heir to the Gilbert family."

"And that piece of meat in the mistress's belly can't even pass a paternity test!"

"If you divorce now, hundreds of millions in family assets just go to someone else!"

I laid a hand on my stomach and changed my mind.

A baby, a fortune, and a dead husband. Was there ever a better deal in this world?

1.

Seeing no reaction from me,

Abner pushed his luck.

"Bianca's nine months along. It isn't safe for her to live out there on her own."

"I've already had her things moved to our villa."

"From now on, she and I will take the master bedroom. You'll stay in the guest room for now, so we don't upset the baby."

Not repentance, not a request.

Just a notice, delivered like it was owed to him.

I nodded, calm.

"Of course. We're all family."

He'd be dead in three days anyway.

People are always so generous toward a man about to die.

Abner hadn't expected me to agree so easily. He froze for a second, thrown.

Something like guilt slipped into his face.

"Celine Delgado, if only you'd been this sensible sooner."

"Don't worry. You'll always be Mrs. Gilbert. Nobody can change that."

I said nothing. I only found it funny.

So this was what not caring got called. Being sensible.

The moment he finished, Bianca cradled her belly and whined,

"Celine, you really should keep Abner in line."

"I'm nine months pregnant and he still clings to me every single day."

"Won't give me a moment's space."

She arched a brow, pleased with herself.

Malice with the innocence of someone who thinks she can't lose.

"We'll all be under one roof from now on, so if he keeps pestering me, you'll have to help."

"Or you keep him close to you, so he stops bothering me."

She expected me to crack.

But I only smiled and said nothing.

The man was as good as dead. Who would bother fighting over any of this.

Seeing I wouldn't rise to it,

Bianca puffed out her cheeks, sulking, and stroked her belly.

"Abner, the baby's throwing a tantrum in here."

"It's because there's an outsider around. The baby's unhappy."

Abner panicked at once, helping Bianca up and out.

He forgot to so much as say goodbye to me.

At the door, Bianca threw me one last look of triumph.

I stared at their retreating backs, the tea in my mouth turning bitter and rough.

Abner and I had built everything from nothing.

When we first came to New York, the two of us crammed into a tiny studio.

One cup of instant noodles, split between us.

We were poor then, but everywhere I looked, there was love.

Later the money came, and the love was gone.

At first I couldn't accept it either.

I got work done head to toe, paid a fortune to learn how to please a man in bed.

At my lowest, I even went from temple to temple, praying, pinning my hopes on anything mystical.

But I exhausted every method, and his feelings only grew colder.

It's only now that I understand. A man whose heart has changed is like a lock with a new core.

No matter how you file down the old key, it won't open that door anymore.

I was still sinking into it when the baby inside me got frantic.

"Mom, this isn't the time to be sad!"

"The man's about to be gone. The money has to stay!"

"While there's still time, get my dad's assets sorted out first."

I smiled, taking only a few seconds to pull myself together.

Then I forwarded Bianca's details to my best friend, the private detective.

"Do me a favor. Find out exactly how much my husband has spent on her."

2: 2

Two hours later, my friend put three years of Abner's statements into my hands.

"He didn't love her all that much, from what I can tell."

"He gave Bianca a supplementary card. She could spend on it, but couldn't pull out cash."

"Over five million in three years."

"The mistress has no property in her name and barely anything in her accounts. The house, the cars, all of it is in your husband's name."

Three years. More than a thousand line items.

I read down them one by one, and every draining fight we'd ever had finally traced back to its source.

When I was hospitalized with pneumonia, he said he was away on business and couldn't come.

He was actually out surfing with Bianca.

Through the darkest stretch after my mother died, he said the company was at a make-or-break point and couldn't spare him.

He was actually following Bianca around the country, chasing her favorite singer's concerts.

Every moment I needed someone beside me, he was standing beside another woman.

More than a thousand line items, and only one was paid for me.

An ordinary Tuesday in March.

Abner had made a special trip to a luxury store to buy me a bag that cost two hundred thousand.

Because of that gift, the feelings that had been frozen between us for so long thawed for once.

That night we even had a rare, harmonious night as husband and wife.

Lying in his arms afterward, I asked him what had made him think to give me a present out of nowhere.

The answer Abner gave me was:

"Do I need a reason to buy something for my own wife? I just wanted to make you happy."

I didn't understand it then.

I understand it now.

That day he'd gone with Bianca to her prenatal checkup.

He'd found out he was going to be a father.

Abner was so happy, so happy he wanted to pass that joy on to someone else.

So he bought me a bag to cheer me up.

Quietly sharing the joy of becoming a father for the first time.

Thinking of the pleasure of that night.

I felt so sick I nearly threw up.

The child in my belly seemed to sense it, pressing against my belly to comfort me.

"Daddy's bad. We don't want Daddy anymore."

"From now on I'll protect Mommy."

I checked into a room at a five-star hotel, spent the whole night organizing the evidence and storing it away safely, then took my time going home.

I'd been gone barely a day, and the house had already changed completely.

Every one of the wedding photos of Abner and me had been taken down, replaced with Bianca's maternity shots.

Right now, she was wearing my pajamas, sitting with her legs crossed on the leather sofa I'd picked out myself.

Asking Abner in a coy little voice:

"Between me and your wife, who looks better in this?"

Abner slid his arm around Bianca's waist, lifted her foot, and kissed it.

"Her face isn't even as soft as your foot."

"So who do you think looks better?"

Bianca nestled into his arms, laughing so hard she trembled.

I hadn't meant to disturb them.

At heart I'm still a traditional person, after all.

I understand the principle that the dead deserve deference.

But my mother-in-law suddenly blocked my path, looking down on me as she said:

"Your own belly can't do its job, so don't hold up the Gilbert family from carrying on the line."

"From now on Bianca is the most precious person in the Gilbert family. Stop hovering around her."

"If you upset the baby, I won't let you off."

Bianca curled into Abner's arms, tipping half her face into view with a playful look.

"Auntie, don't blame Celine."

"I'm sure Celine wants a baby too. She's just too old to conceive."

"Once a woman hits a certain age, it's not just the outside that goes old. The inside stops working too."

She kept giggling and giggling.

Abner bent his head, holding her with doting tenderness, as if he'd quietly signed off on this humiliation.

I gripped the armrest, and all at once I was fed up.

Why we still had no child after eight years of marriage, Abner knew better than anyone.

The first four years we were building the company together.

He said we couldn't afford distractions in the early days.

I miscarried three times in a row.

He knelt on the floor and washed my feet, swearing he would never fail me.

By the fifth year we had money, but he and I had drifted into different time zones.

We'd become the most familiar strangers in one house.

Even this pregnancy came only on the back of Bianca's.

The laughable part was that no matter how my mother-in-law humiliated me, Abner didn't say a single word for me.

I didn't want to say more, and turned to go back to my room.

But my mother-in-law chased after me, relentless.

3: 3

"What successful man doesn't keep more than one woman?"

"You should have made your peace with that a long time ago."

"What's with the sour face? Who's it for?"

I stopped walking and said nothing for a few seconds.

Then I turned and nodded.

"You're right, Mom."

"A father who raised a son like Abner really is a success."

"So of course he's entitled to two dance-class partners on the side."

I pulled out my phone and sent her the photos of her husband and his partner checking into a motel.

"I was going to handle this kind of family shame quietly."

"But I didn't realize you were so open-minded about it."

"Tomorrow I'll bring both of those dancing ladies home. A full house makes for a livelier family."

With that, I went back to my room and locked the door.

A moment later, her shrill wailing came through the door.

Then the sounds of the two of them tearing into each other.

A knife only teaches you what pain is when it's buried in your own flesh.

If I couldn't have peace, then no one would.

I leaned back against the door, rested my hand on my belly, and spoke softly.

"Don't be afraid, baby."

"Just hold on one more day."

That night, I didn't go to bed early.

I knew Abner.

And I knew exactly how a mistress with no legal standing would go about protecting her interests.

Sure enough, by eleven he couldn't sit still.

He came into the room looking wrecked and lay down beside me out of habit.

I wasn't naive enough to think he still loved me.

He was just in a bad mood.

"Celine, you don't hate me?"

After ten minutes of lying there, Abner asked, testing the water.

I shook my head and offered him false comfort.

"You can't take all the blame for something like this."

"I have a forceful personality. Part of it's my fault too."

My fault for trusting my feelings too much.

My fault for being blind and misjudging a person.

And besides.

Hate is just an extension of love. Once the love is gone, there's nothing left to hate.

In a few hours, Abner would be a handful of ash.

To me, he had become a lottery ticket, half scratched.

All I had to do was wait for the time to come and claim the prize.

No one holds a grudge against money.

In the dark, Abner reached for my hand and held it.

"Celine, if only you'd seen it this way sooner."

"We never would have ended up like this."

"My mom was harsh earlier. Don't take it to heart. She's got a sharp tongue, but she doesn't mean any harm."

I said nothing.

He edged closer.

"Bianca says that since she doesn't have a title, she wants some security."

"She wants me to draw up a will now and leave everything to the child."

"Celine, you won't object, will you?"

"You're already the rightful Mrs. Gilbert. Bianca has nothing."

In the quiet dark, he couldn't see the contempt on my face.

Mrs. Gilbert. What was that title even worth.

"Draw it up if you want to."

"Whatever you do, I'll back you."

"A written record isn't a bad idea, actually. Otherwise your father could go father a few more sons out there and carve up your estate."

I pretended to go along with Abner, got straight out of bed, and drafted a will template for him.

His father's affair was supposed to be my leverage to talk Abner into making a will.

But someone else was even more impatient than I was.

When it came to naming the heir, I left myself a little something.

I wrote that only a direct child of Abner's, confirmed by paternity test, could inherit the entire estate.

Abner suspected nothing. After he signed, his eyes even went red with emotion.

He pulled me into his arms and said,

"Celine, with a wife like this, what more could a man want?"

I stared, numb, and found the whole thing absurd.

When I offered him my whole heart, Abner called me insane.

The moment I offered him a fake one, he decided I was the perfect wife.

That night was the first time in four years that Abner chose to spend the night beside me.

He didn't leave my room until dawn, and even then reluctantly.

On his way out, it was as though his conscience had suddenly stirred.

"Celine, I have a business trip today."

"When I get back, I'll move Bianca into a postpartum care center."

"Once she's had the baby, I'll bring the child here for you to raise."

"After that, I'll do my best to keep her out of your sight."

I played along on the surface, even squeezed out two tears.

A pity that there was no "after that" anymore.

The moment Abner was out the door, I sent the will to my lawyer to be notarized.

He fired back a string of one-minute voice messages.

"Normally you'd only be entitled to two-thirds of Mr. Gilbert's estate, with the remaining third going to his parents."

"But now, with this will that leaves the heir vaguely defined,"

"as long as the mistress can't prove the child is Mr. Gilbert's, you and your child will legally inherit everything."

"If that's what you want, his relatives won't see a single cent."

I pulled myself together, and the first thing I did was list the villa with an agent at well below market price.

By noon that same day, a buyer had put down the full amount and taken it.

I'd just settled on a time for the viewing when I got the call from the emergency center.

"Ms. Delgado, your husband was in a car accident on the highway. The vehicle caught fire, and the flames were too fierce. There's nothing left of him but a handful of ashes."

"Would it be convenient for you to come in and handle the paperwork to claim the body?"

4: 4

I couldn't stop the corner of my mouth from lifting.

In a good mood, I knocked another hundred thousand off the buyer's price, then found a moment to swing by the hospital.

I cut the line to get the death certificate issued, then went straight to the precinct and had Abner's records canceled.

By the time I got back to the villa with my lawyer, my mother-in-law had just come home from the mall, loaded down with bags, Bianca in tow.

The two of them were carrying a dozen shopping bags, a few store staff trailing behind them.

Bianca dropped onto the couch and ordered me around like a servant.

"Celine, go take care of my bill for me."

"I maxed out Abner's card. There's still more than half left to pay."

I stood where I was and didn't move.

Seeing that, my mother-in-law's face soured at once.

She flung her shopping bags to the floor and crossed the room to me in two strides.

"Celine, are you deaf or just mute? Bianca told you to go pay. Didn't you hear her?"

Bianca leaned back into the couch.

One hand resting on her belly, she said in a wounded little voice,

"Auntie, does Celine hate me?"

"If she does... I don't want this baby anymore. I wouldn't want to be an eyesore to her."

"She wouldn't dare!"

My mother-in-law's spit nearly landed on my face.

"That money was all earned by my son! Letting you pay the bill is doing you an honor! Don't throw kindness back in our faces!"

I glanced down at my phone.

My lawyer said the inheritance would be settled within three days.

When I looked up again, my face had settled into a perfectly calm expression.

"Auntie. Bianca."

"There's something I need to tell you."

"This morning, Abner was in a car crash on the highway."

"The car burned. He's dead."

"Every cent in those accounts is mine now."

The air went dead for two seconds.

"What did you say?!"

My mother-in-law's shriek nearly lifted the roof.

"Celine! Have you lost your mind?! Cursing your own husband dead?!"

Bianca burst out laughing.

"I think jealousy has actually rotted your brain."

"Abner told me an hour ago he was taking me car shopping tonight."

I smiled.

"If you don't believe me, call him. Right now."

"See if anyone picks up."

One ring.

Two.

Three.

After the fourth went unanswered, Bianca started to panic.

Without a word, I pulled a clear document sleeve out of my bag.

Inside was the hospital's death certificate and the cancellation papers from the precinct.

The smiles on my mother-in-law's and Bianca's faces froze solid in an instant.