On Valentine's Day, I Discovered My Sister's Husband Was My Dead Husband

On Valentine's Day I was dressed in a clown costume, selling roses in the busiest part of the city.

The last thing I expected was to see my husband, Kerry Donaldson, dead for three years, with my sister Joyce Fleming on his arm, her belly round with pregnancy.

He held out a thick fold of bills.

Get me your most expensive bouquet.

Every drop of blood in my body ran backward. I stared hard at his face and couldn't make sense of it.

When I didn't take the money, Joyce covered her mouth and laughed. "Honey, you scared her with all that cash. She doesn't even dare take it."

"Why don't we have her perform something at the party in that clown getup? Call it her performance fee."

Before I could get a word out, Kerry's bodyguards hauled me into a lavish banquet hall.

"Kerry, today is your third wedding anniversary with Joyce. Why on earth would you bring a clown in here?"

My own mother pinched her nose and looked at me with disgust. Then my brother, Tristan Fleming, eased Joyce into a seat, his voice all indulgence. "Why do you think? Joyce must have wanted to see a clown perform."

"Joyce really is blessed, having Kerry treat her so tenderly."

My best friend, Cordelia Henson, said it while wheeling a six-tier cake tower past me. "This cake took me a whole day and night to make, and you"

"Get out of the way, ah"

I went sprawling into the cake tower, and only then did it hit me. Every single person around me had betrayed me.

.........

Cordelia's palm cracked across my face, her eyes blazing with the fury of someone whose treasure has been ruined. "Are you blind? This cake took me a full day and night to make by hand for my best friend."

"You ruined it just like that. What are you going to use to pay for it?"

My heart twisted like it was being churned by a knife. Yesterday my stomach flared up so badly I couldn't get out of bed. I called her, and it rang more than ten times before she picked up, her tone impatient. "I've got something important today. Call yourself an ambulance for now, I'll come see you tomorrow."

And her so-called something important was making a cake for Joyce.

When I said nothing, she drew back her hand to strike the other side of my face. I caught it.

Tristan kicked me from behind and sent me sprawling to the floor.

"You're a street clown begging for coins. Kneel down and apologize to Joyce, beg for her forgiveness, or you're not walking out of here tonight."

Joyce made a show of standing and holding Tristan back. "Don't be angry, brother. Where's that gift you said yesterday you'd give me?"

Only then did Tristan remember. He pulled a delicate jewelry box from his pocket, and Mother covered her mouth and laughed. "That was bought with money from Thelma Fleming, so we'll just call it her way of showing she cares too."

My nails dug hard into the floorboards. Yesterday Tristan had come to me with a troubled face, saying he needed a gift for his promotion, and walked off with the only thirty thousand I had.

That money was what I'd been saving for my surgery. So it turned out it had gone toward an expensive gift for Joyce instead.

Joyce went through the motions of refusing. "This isn't right. My sister works hard for her money. If she knew you'd used it to buy me a gift, wouldn't she be upset?"

Tristan shook his head, unbothered. "She owes you this. If it weren't for her, you and Kerry wouldn't have had to sneak around all this time, when the two of you have been married three years already."

Kerry simply picked up the necklace and fastened it around Joyce's neck. "If I hadn't been so worried about sparing her feelings back then, why would I have faked my death to marry you and let you suffer all this? She wronged you first. You don't need to think about her at all."

Cordelia stepped in front of her and took her hand, pouting sweetly. "Joyce, don't be so kind. She owes you all of this. No matter how much you take, it's only what you deserve."

"You have no idea how hard it's been for me, keeping the secret from her, playing nice to her face every day."

Her expression turned to open disgust.

"This morning she even called me asking when I'd come see her. I was sick of it. It's just a little stomach flare-up, and she carries on like she's dying. I couldn't be bothered with her."

I clutched my stomach and got to my feet, my palm smearing tears through the clown makeup as I wiped it off, and I stared hard at every one of them.

"So it turns out you all think I owe you."

The whole room froze, every face turning to me in disbelief.

Kerry was the first to recognize me. His voice shook, thick with astonishment. "Thelma, how are you here?"

Cordelia stumbled, nearly losing her footing, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. "Thelma. It really is you."

Tristan and Mom had gone white with shock too, but the first words out of their mouths weren't an apology, weren't an explanation. It was that they could no longer keep it from me.

"What do we do now? We can't hide it from her anymore."

"Damn it, who could've guessed she'd be out selling flowers in a clown costume?"

Cordelia's shame curdled into fury, and she jabbed a finger at me. "Thelma, didn't you say you had a stomachache? I never thought you'd use a fake stomach illness to trick me yesterday. Good thing I didn't fall for it."

"You showed up looking like this today just to humiliate us, didn't you? You wanted me to feel guilty, isn't that it?"

Kerry's gaze landed on me, full of disgust. "So that's it. You came in front of us on purpose today, just to embarrass us like this."

"Three years, and I never imagined you'd turn this scheming."

Mom planted her hands on her hips and screamed at me. "Thelma, you did this on purpose, didn't you? You knew perfectly well today was their wedding anniversary, and you had to come and ruin it."

"How did I give birth to a daughter like you? What a curse."

The wound in my chest tore open again, bleeding.

Tears mixed with the greasepaint on my face, leaving me more wretched than ever.

"This is all you have to say to me? Not one word of explanation?"

Tristan let out a cold snort. "Explanation? What explanation do you want? Don't tell me you think any of this is our fault."

My eyes went wide with shock. They'd used Kerry's faked death to deceive me.

They'd saddled me with a mountain of debt. Three years, I sold the house, sold the car, worked several jobs a day, lived like something that was neither human nor ghost, and they didn't feel a shred of guilt.

Cordelia handed me a tissue. "Thelma, don't blame us. They're truly in love. You can't expect them to stay trapped in misery and never be together."

"Having Kerry fake his death so he could be with Joyce was already the way that hurt you least."

"If you weren't the most important person to us, why would we have gone through all this trouble to keep it from you?"

Loading me with debt, leaving me wishing I were dead, and it was all for my own good. What a laughable excuse. I couldn't help the scorn that broke out of me.

"You people are shameless. Betrayal is betrayal, cheating is cheating. Stop using true love as a shield. It makes me sick."

"Kerry, if you loved Joyce, you could have divorced me and been with her out in the open. Why fake your death? Why leave me all that debt, leave me living worse than dead?"

Kerry's brow furrowed. "What debt? I"

Before he could finish, Joyce cut in. Eyes red, she stepped forward and gripped my hand. "Sis, don't blame Kerry. It's all my fault. If you have to blame someone, blame me. Ahh"

She hadn't even finished when she recoiled as if startled and toppled backward, caught by Kerry. He glared at me viciously. "Joyce did nothing wrong. I'm the one who loves her. If you want to blame someone, blame me. Why would you push her? She's pregnant."

"You've gone too far. If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you."

Right on cue, Joyce clutched her belly, her face twisted in pain. "My stomach hurts so much. Kerry, help me."

Kerry's eyes filled with panic. "I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

As she passed by me, Joyce lowered her voice. "Sis, do you like this gift I gave you?"

I stared, my eyes going wide with shock. So all of this today had been her doing.

I was just opening my mouth to speak when my mother, rushing to catch up, slammed into me and knocked me to the ground.

Cordelia took a few steps forward, then stopped, reaching out as if to help me up. I pulled away.

"I don't need your fake kindness."

Her face soured. "You think I want to bother with you? I only said something for old friendship's sake. Kerry genuinely loves Joyce. The two of them are meant for each other. You should give it up already."

With that, she turned and swept off.

Watching the way she stood guard over Joyce, I felt myself go hazy for a moment. Years ago, when Joyce bullied me into the water and I came down with a fever, it was Cordelia who grabbed a knife and swore she'd make Joyce pay. She'd had that same look in her eyes then.

She was still protecting her best friend that fiercely. Only now the person she protected wasn't me.

I dragged myself back to the basement I rented, and the moment I reached the door I found my things thrown out into the hall.

"You made the wrong people angry. I can't rent to you anymore. Get going."

I couldn't help a bitter laugh. My family, the man I'd loved, after hurting me the way they had, hadn't even meant to leave me the one roof over my head.

Hauling my few belongings, I thought I'd find a motel to get through the night, only to discover I didn't have even a hundred dollars on me.

The only option left was to go find Tristan. He'd taken plenty of money from me before, and today he certainly hadn't looked like a man short of cash.

I knocked, and the new tenant inside told me, "The family that lived here moved in about a month and then left. Said the son-in-law struck it rich and got them a new place. Somewhere out at Lakeshore Estates."

Three years ago, my mother told me the collectors had found their way to the house and torn it apart. So I rented this place for them and wired the rent on time, every month, for three years.

To keep from dragging them down, I never once showed my face. And it turned out they hadn't been living here for a long time.

I went to the address the tenant gave me. A gleaming, opulent mansion, not the least bit like people scraping by.

Yet every month my mother still found some new excuse to ask me for money.

I raised my hand to knock and saw her out in the courtyard, talking with Kerry.

"You swore to me you loved only Joyce. That's the only reason I agreed to let her marry you. Now that Thelma knows the truth, that you never died, don't you dare have a change of heart. If you do, I'll take you down if it costs me my life."

Kerry insisted, over and over, that he meant it, and only then did my mother let out a breath.

Three children in that family. Tristan got the attention because he was the boy, and Joyce, the youngest, got all the doting. Only me, the second daughter, had gotten nothing from our mother but her bias against me since I was small.

"I made chicken soup. Take it back for Joyce. She needs the nourishment more than anyone right now."

As my mother handed over the soup and turned, our eyes met. She stared at me warily, as if she'd seen a ghost.

"Thelma. How did you find this place?"

"Are you here to hurt Joyce again?"

This was my mother. Toward me she had only malice, never once concern.

I told her plainly why I'd come. Her face darkened. "When did I ever take your money? I think you've gone crazy over money."

Kerry grabbed my arm, his own face just as grim.

"I give you so much every month and it's still not enough? You have to squeeze money out of your aging mother too? How much can one person possibly spend?"

"Thelma Fleming, when did you turn into such a gold-digger?"

I laughed coldly and lifted my head, staring straight at him. "The only thing you ever gave me was a pile of debt. What money?"

"If I had money, why would I be living like this? Working several jobs a day, dressing up like a clown to sell flowers on the street."

Maybe he pictured what I used to look like. His brow furrowed and his body went slightly rigid. "How could you be short of money? I set up an insurance policy for you in advance. Twenty thousand comes in every month, right on schedule."

"And what debt? When did I ever leave you any debt?"

Looking at him, it was as though things really were the way he said. He'd worn the same expression back in the ballroom when he heard about the debt.

My mother cut in, her voice thin with guilt. "She's putting on an act, trying to win your sympathy. You're Joyce's husband now. Don't let her fool you."

So the debt was my own mother's doing, and she'd staged the whole show for me, and helped herself to the money Kerry had set aside for me while she was at it.

I was about to speak when Tristan came running over, his face white.

"Joyce got hit by someone Thelma hired. She's bleeding badly. They're trying to save her at the hospital right now."

My mother slapped me across the face. "You jinx, why would you hurt my daughter?"

I opened my mouth to say I hadn't, but Kerry seized a fistful of my hair. "If anything happens to Joyce, I will never let you off."

He dragged me into the hospital. The doctor said Joyce was hemorrhaging and needed a transfusion, and without a second thought Kerry shoved me forward.

"She's the same blood type as Joyce. Take hers."

But I'd been anemic since childhood. I couldn't give blood at all. I shook my head and refused. "I didn't hire anyone to hit her. I'm not giving blood."

Kerry's hand flew up and struck me across the face. "You're the one who hurt her. If not your blood, then whose?"

The doctor glanced at me and couldn't bring himself to do it. "She looks too thin, and her color's bad. She probably doesn't meet the requirements to donate. We actually have some in the blood bank, we could"

Kerry grabbed the doctor by the collar, his eyes a threat. "I said take hers, so you take hers. Or do you not want this job anymore?"

In the end they held me down and drew the blood, and didn't stop until two full bags were taken. I went weak and passed out.

When I woke I heard the nurses talking.

"Mr. Donaldson really does dote on his wife. I heard she was in a car accident, so he went straight and drew blood from his wife's sister. Later it turned out it was just a joke his wife played, and he wasn't even angry."

"It's just a pity for that sister they drew blood from. She got turned into part of someone else's little love game."

So all of it had been fake.

I stumbled to my feet just as Kerry pushed the door open. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes. "Don't blame Joyce. She only did this because your showing up left her feeling so insecure."

"I'll make it up to you after this. Don't blame Joyce, she"

Before he could finish, his phone rang. He took the call and hurried out.

I set a notebook on the hospital bed and told the nurse to give it to him if he came back.

Then I left. When Kerry came back and saw the notebook, he was completely stunned.