Chapter 3My Imaginary Wife Sent Me Millions

"Sir? Need a signature here," the delivery driver prompted.

Nana reached out to take the stylus, but I quickly stepped in.

"Actually, I think there's been a mistake. I ordered the wrong model. I need to reject the delivery, please."

This was for my grandmother. I couldn't risk her using something from a stranger. Who knew what was actually in that box?

As the driver took the package back, my eyes caught a small, familiar card taped to the side.

Only the best for Nana. —Your loving wife.

My hand trembled so hard I had to shove it into my pocket.

After sending the driver away, I called into work to take the morning off. I drove Nana to a local clinic, got her fitted for a proper hearing aid, and paid for it myself.

Before I left, I held her hands tightly.

"Nana, if you get any packages over the next few weeks, do not open them. Call me immediately. Promise me."

Though confused, Nana nodded and promised she would.

When I finally got to the office that afternoon, I was a nervous wreck.

Who was this person? How did they know my grandmother's address?

And more importantly... I had only searched for those hearing aids on my phone the night before. I hadn't spoken a word about it to anyone else.

How could a package arrive first thing in the morning?

There was only one logical explanation.

I stared down at the screen of my phone.

Someone had hacked my device. They were monitoring my searches, my location, my life.

It had to be.

Determined to reclaim my sanity, I went straight to an electronics store after work. I bought a brand-new phone, factory-reset my old one, and sold it to a trade-in kiosk.

It was a massive hit to my savings, but as the days passed and no new packages arrived, I finally felt like I could breathe again.

My relief lasted for about a week.

Then, on a rainy Thursday night, I had a dream.

In the dream, a woman I had never seen before stood in front of me. Her eyes were filled with a profound, aching sadness.

"Sweetheart," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You won't wear the jacket. You won't use the cologne. You even sent back the hearing aid I got for Nana.

"Do you hate me now? Or do you just not want my gifts?

"It's your birthday. Let me just give you money instead. That way, you can buy whatever you want."

I bolted upright in bed, my heart hammering against my ribs, drenched in cold sweat.

I checked my phone. It was past midnight.

Today was, indeed, my birthday.

But what a bizarre, deeply unsettling nightmare.

When my alarm finally went off, I shook my head, trying to banish the memory of her sad eyes, and got ready for work.

At my desk, I was nursing a coffee and chewing on a bagel, trying to focus on a design pitch, when my phone buzzed.

It was a notification from my banking app.

I tapped it open. My jaw dropped.

One... ten... a hundred... a thousand... ten thousand... a hundred thousand...

One million dollars.

A cool million had just been deposited into my checking account.

I thought it was a glitch, some cruel banking error, but when I refreshed the page, the balance remained the same.

And there was a transaction memo:

Happy birthday, sweetheart.

The room seemed to tilt.

Let me just give you money instead. That way, you can buy whatever you want.

The words from my dream echoed in my ears.

I sat frozen in my chair, my entire understanding of reality crumbling.

"Zach? You okay?"

Brandon tapped my shoulder, noticing my blank stare.

I quickly flipped my phone face down. "Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine."

Dear God, what was happening to me?

Where did a million dollars come from? Was it possible that I actually had a wife, and I had somehow... forgotten her?

"Hey, I saw your calendar," Brandon said, leaning against my cubicle wall. "It’s your birthday today. What are the plans?"

I slowly picked up my phone and stared at the balance again.

I had never used any of the physical gifts.

But was this real?

Could I actually spend this money?

I took a deep breath.

"Hey, everyone," I called out to the office. "It’s my birthday. Dinner and drinks are on me tonight."

The office erupted into cheers.

"Wait, Zach," one of the designers asked. "Aren't you celebrating with your wife?"

"She’s... out of town on business," I lied smoothly.

I sent a group text with the address of a high-end steakhouse downtown.

Brandon’s eyes went wide when he saw the venue. "Whoa, Zach. We're going there? Are you sure you can afford that place?"

I smiled, keeping my terror hidden. "Don't worry about it."

But as we left, a cold knot of dread tightened in my stomach.

What if the card got declined?