I thought I was living a fairy tale when I married Damian, but my dream turned into a nightmare at the reception. Three days later, I buried my husband—only to find him alive, driving a taxi.
I’m Paige, 28, and a few months ago, I was a perfect bride. Damian and I met at a café, and after a year, we were married. But during the reception, Damian collapsed and was pronounced dead from a heart attack. His cold, controlling adoptive parents accused me of being after his money.
Three days later, I got into a taxi to escape, only to hear Damian’s voice from the driver’s seat. He explained that his parents were involved in illegal activities, and to protect me, he faked his death. He’d staged the whole thing, including the funeral, with the help of a fixer.
Damian’s actions were an attempt to keep me safe, and after much conflict, I agreed to join him as he left the country to start over. In time, I realized I still loved him. We rebuilt our lives abroad, free from his family’s reach, and eventually had a wedding without secrets—finally, together and happy.
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