Husband loves to play dead? I made it happen

Chapter 1

1.

Three months after my husband went missing in a skiing accident, I saw him at a bar.

He had his arm slung around "sis-bro" Jamie's shoulder, laughing like he was free from a life sentence. “Thanks to you, dude,” he was saying, "I was starting to forget what real freedom felt like."

His bros were buying him shots, one after another, asking when he was going to surface.

He thought for a second, "I'll give it another week, maybe. Let her sweat it out a bit, you know, drive her crazy before I show my face again."

I was standing in the shadows, watching him bask in his 'freedom', and dialed my friend at the county records office.

1.

“I’m going to have Mark Harrison declared legally deceased,” I said, my voice tight.

“You're not going to keep looking?” my friend asked, hesitating.

I looked up at Mark, who was now whispering something to Jamie, and my eyes stung. “There’s no point.”

You can’t find someone who doesn’t want to be found.

I hung up and went back to my booth.

My bestie, Sarah, saw my face and shoved a drink into my hand. “Look, honey, Mark’s been gone for three months. The odds of him being alive are basically zero. You need to let go, move on.”

I stared at the colorful drink in my glass and downed it in one go.

The burn of the liquor made my eyes water, and I blinked back the tears, asking, “Do you think anyone would fake their own death to get away from their wife?”

She looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head. "What kind of crazy talk is that? Only a real dirtbag would pull a stunt like that. He’d be better off actually dead!”

I wiped away the tears and grabbed my purse.

“You’re right, I need to let him go.”

I left and went home.

The house was silent. It’d been this way for three months. I hated the silence. I’d started leaving all the lights on, brewing a cup of his favorite tea and putting it on the coffee table, pretending he was still there.

I just didn't understand. If he didn't want to be married to me anymore, he could have just filed for divorce. Why fake a skiing accident and disappear?

I sat on the couch and picked up the two cartoonish figurines of us he'd given me.

“When I’m not here," he’d said, grinning, "these little guys can keep you company."

His words clashed with the annoyed tone I’d heard at the bar.

“Chloe was sweet and chill before we got married, but now she’s way too clingy. This fake-out will teach her a lesson and she’ll lay off.”

Jamie had poured him another shot. “Well, at least I never cling to you! We've been buds for years.”

“You’re the best, man,” he'd replied.

They called themselves “bros” but their legs were intertwined.

The thought made my stomach churn.

I chucked the figurines in the trash and grabbed my phone, sending a mass text:

Mark Harrison passed away in an accident three months ago. Memorial service next week.

Mark’s buddies started hammering me with texts, full of outrage.

“How can you have a funeral if you haven’t found his body?”

“Chloe, have you lost it? Mark's not dead!”

“If...