Chapter 1The Man Who Died Twice

Five years into our marriage, my husband suddenly passed away from a severe asthma attack, leaving me and our son alone in the world.

Friends pitied me for becoming a widow so young. My parents begged me to move on, to find a new father for my son.

I refused. I was adamant about honoring his memory, staying single to mourn the love of my life.

But on the third anniversary of his death, I accidentally overheard my father-in-law screaming at my brother-in-law in the study:

"The one with asthma was your brother! The one who died was your brother! Is it really worth it? Faking your own death, deceiving your wife and child just to take care of your sister-in-law?"

"For three years, Elara has mourned you. She’s raised Leo all by herself. You gave your niece a father figure, sure, but have you ever thought about the fact that from the day you 'died,' Leo lost his dad?"

In that moment, the blood in my veins turned to ice.

It hit me like a freight train. The man who died three years ago wasn’t my husband, Caleb. It was his identical twin brother, Connor.

My three years of grieving, of loyalty, of pain... it was all a joke.

That night, I picked up the phone and called my parents.

"Mom, Dad? I’m ready. I’ll marry Mason."

* * *

After my husband allegedly died from that asthma attack, my in-laws looked at me with guilt-ridden eyes every single day.

They tiptoed around me, terrified I wouldn’t be able to handle the grief, afraid I’d take their grandson and remarry, cutting off their family line.

My own parents, on the other hand, kept pushing me to date. They said I couldn’t play the grieving widow forever, that they had great guys to set me up with.

I was stubborn as a mule. I dug my heels in.

I told my in-laws to rest easy—I wouldn't let my son call another man "Daddy."

For three years, no matter how hard or lonely it got, I grit my teeth and survived.

Until that third anniversary.

I was walking past the study when I heard my father-in-law’s voice booming at my brother-in-law:

"Caleb, your brother was the one born with asthma! He’s the one who passed! Why did you have to stage this fake death and steal his identity?"

Caleb? That was my husband’s name.

Fake death?

I froze in the hallway, my brain unable to process the words. Then, I heard the voice I had yearned for in my dreams:

"Dad, Elara was pregnant back then. The shock would have destroyed her. Besides, I gave her a son. She won’t be lonely in her old age. That’s enough."

"From that day on, I decided I had to step up and take care of Connor’s wife and daughter. As for the identity of 'Caleb'... let him stay buried."

I couldn't listen anymore. My hands were shaking, and my head felt like it was being split open by an axe.

So, my husband wasn't dead. His twin brother was.

The man I loved more than anything had faked his death and abandoned me and our son, just to play house with another woman.

Tears finally broke through the dam.

Caleb had once pulled me out of the darkest time of my life. When I was at rock bottom, he didn’t turn away. He got down on one knee and promised to cherish me forever.

After the wedding, he treated me like gold.

Everyone said I was the luckiest woman in town.

That’s why, when he "died," I decided to dedicate my life to his memory.

Now, I felt like the world's biggest fool.

Caleb was always healthy. He never even caught a cold. How could he have died of asthma?

It was all an act. He had been acting for three years, pretending to be his brother to take care of his "sister-in-law"—his high school sweetheart.

But what about me? What about our son? Were we nothing?

I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle a scream and ran back to my room.