After My Death, the Whole Family Began to Love me - Chapter 3

It was dark when I got home. Usually the house was all lit up. Even when Nick wasn’t home, the housekeeper, Maria, would turn on all the lights.

I walked in and turned on the lights in the living room. There was my husband, Nick, sitting at the dining table. In the center of the table was a birthday cake with candles.

Nick quickly wiped his face. His eyes were red. It hit me. Nick was celebrating Sarah’s birthday.

I wanted to laugh. Today was the day I found out I had terminal pancreatic cancer, and my parents, my brother, and my husband were all thinking about someone else.

Nick looked annoyed to see me. Probably because I was interrupting his remembrance of his perfect angel.

“I thought the driver said you went to your parents‘ house. Why are you back?”

I gave a bitter laugh and handed Maria my coat.

“My parents‘ house? Do I have a real home?”

I’d been at the hospital all day, and I was exhausted. I didn’t want to talk to Nick. I just wanted to go to bed. But he wasn’t going to let me go.

Just as I was about to open the bedroom door, he said, “Don’t you have something you want to say today?”

I laughed at Nick’s words and turned to face him.

“What should I say? What do you want me to say?”

“You want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness. You want me to cry and wail, and slap myself. That’s still not enough. You want me to die, right?”

I was being rude, but I was angry, and he deserved it He grabbed my chin, making me look him in the eye.

“Laura, do you even have a heart? Don’t you know why Sarah killed herself?”

“What? Are you showing your true colors now? You can’t keep up the act anymore? You’re disgusting!”

“You’re right, you should die. You should give Sarah her life back. Your worthless life isn’t worth a fraction of Sarah’s!”

Nick looked like he did the first time I met him. It made me feel dizzy. Three years ago, when I first came to this family, I felt like I was walking on eggshells because of Sarah.

I was so afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. I didn’t want to make Sarah cry, or upset Mom, Dad, or Tom.

Everyone was so worried about Sarah that they didn’t notice how awkward I felt. Nick was the only one who saw it. He saw my embarrassment, my carefulness, my sadness.

When I hid and cried, he was always the first one to find me. He told me that it wasn’t my fault.

During that first year with the Millers, Nick was the only good thing in my life.

So when Dad told me that the Millers and the Andersons were planning a marriage and asked if I was willing, I agreed, terrified of losing that warmth.

But on the day Nick and I got married, Sarah jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge.

Nick choked me, yelling, “It’s all your fault! Why did you have to come back!”

“You stole her parents, her brother, and now her husband!”

“You finally got what you wanted! You drove her to her death!”

At that moment, I realized that if I hadn’t come back, Sarah would’ve married Nick. Nick was supposed to be Sarah’s husband.

When Sarah jumped off that bridge, I lost the only person in the world who was on my side.

How could a living piece of trash ever compare to a dead angel?