The Day Jake Turned My Return Into a Funeral
My marriage was perfect—or so I thought—until the day I came home from a business trip to find our backyard transformed into a venue for a funeral. My funeral. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was Jake, standing in front, greeting guests dressed in black. What was going on?
They say love makes people do crazy things, but hosting your living wife’s funeral? That’s a whole new level of insanity.
Let me start from the beginning. Jake and I had been married for six years. We met at a dinner party hosted by my college friend, Rachel, who insisted I meet this guy who had a reputation for cracking terrible dad jokes.
That night, he made everyone laugh, and I couldn’t help but think, “He’s different. I want to get to know him better.” Six months later, in our favorite coffee shop, he proposed. I didn’t hesitate—saying yes was the easiest decision of my life.
After our wedding, we decided to try for a baby right away. But after months of negative tests and frustration, we turned to fertility specialists. We were hopeful. But after two years of treatments that didn’t work, it felt like the universe was turning its back on us.
On top of that, the endless questions from family were unbearable.
“Have you tried those fertility herbs I told you about?” my Aunt Susan would ask at every family gathering. “My neighbor’s daughter swears by them!”
It was so hard. Last Thanksgiving, my cousin announced her pregnancy, and I had to excuse myself to cry in the bathroom. Jake found me there, tears streaming down my face, sitting on the closed toilet lid.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, kneeling in front of me. “Want to ditch this place and grab some terrible diner food?”
I laughed through my tears. “Everyone will know why we’re leaving.”
“Let them know,” he shrugged. “Their opinions don’t pay our bills or make our happiness. We’re perfect just as we are.”
Jake always knew how to lift me when the world felt too heavy. Despite society’s pressure on me for not being a mother, he made me feel whole. Complete.
Now, let’s talk about the other part of my life—the exciting part. I’d been climbing the corporate ladder, and I was proud to say I was now a manager at a large firm, overseeing a team of 15. We had just landed three major clients, and I couldn’t be prouder of what we’d achieved.
Meanwhile, Jake worked as an accountant at a smaller firm. He made less than I did, but it was never an issue for us. His wins, no matter how small, were celebrated with excitement.
“Guess what?” he’d bounce into the kitchen after work. “Remember that reconciliation issue? I figured it out!”
I’d always respond enthusiastically, “That’s amazing! Tell me everything about it!”
Some of our friends didn’t understand our dynamic. They thought it was weird that I earned more, that we didn’t have kids, and that we were content with our simple life. But Jake and I had always been on the same page, until last month—until the day my world flipped upside down.
It all started when my boss, David, called me into his office.
“Lexi, we need you in Denver,” he said urgently, looking at his computer screen. “The account is hanging by a thread, and you’re the only one who can salvage it.”
“Denver? When?” I asked, already dreading the timing.
“Tomorrow. Should be about a week.”
I froze. The timing was terrible. Going to Denver meant I’d miss Jake’s birthday that weekend. We’d been planning a BBQ party for weeks, and he’d even bought a new grill. I felt terrible and had no idea how to break the news.
I found Jake in the kitchen, humming as he chopped vegetables.
“Something smells amazing,” I said, stalling.
“Just trying out a new marinade for the party,” he grinned. “Want to taste?”
“Jake, honey, I need to tell you something.”
He immediately stopped, sensing something was off. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to go to Denver. Tomorrow. For a week.”
His eyes widened. “But… the birthday BBQ?”
“I know. I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice filled with guilt. “It’s this huge client, and David specifically asked for me. We can celebrate when I get back. Maybe even take that road trip we’ve been talking about?”
He forced a smile, but I saw the hurt in his eyes. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “We can definitely take that road trip. It’s gonna be great.”
I watched him pick up the knife again, the weight of my decision sinking in.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. It’s just a week. I’ll be back in no time.”
“Work is important,” he nodded. “I get it. Work’s always important.”
I hugged him from behind, breathing in his familiar scent.
“I love you.”
“Love you too,” he murmured, almost absentmindedly. “Just… come back soon, okay?”
The week in Denver was intense but successful. Through marathon negotiations and late-night strategy meetings, we managed to not only save the account but expand it. I was thrilled to wrap things up early and head home to surprise Jake.
But when I turned onto our street, something felt off. There were cars lining both sides of the road, and people were walking toward our house. My heart raced as I rushed toward the backyard, where I heard murmurs of conversation. What I saw stopped me in my tracks.
Rows of chairs were set up on our lawn, flower arrangements covered every surface. At the front, a massive portrait of me, surrounded by black ribbons, was displayed.
My heart dropped. It was my portrait.
I stood frozen, watching people attend what looked like MY funeral. I couldn’t breathe.
Then, I saw Jake. He was greeting people as if I had actually passed away.
“Jake!” I called out, my voice cracking.
He turned around, his face going red with anger.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“What am I doing here? What are YOU doing?” I snapped. “Jake, why are you hosting my funeral?”
“Your mom told me the truth!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “About your promotion. About Denver. About how you’re leaving me behind!”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was talking about the promotion offer that I hadn’t told anyone about, except my mother. I hadn’t told Jake yet because I wanted to discuss it with him after I returned.
“Mom told you?” I asked, disbelief in my voice.
“I thought he knew, sweetie,” I heard my mother’s voice from behind me. She pushed through the crowd. “I came here as soon as your neighbor called me about the funeral setup. I’ve been trying to talk some sense into Jake for the past hour, but—“
“Thanks for ruining everything, Mom!” I cut her off.
Then, I turned back to Jake. “And this? A funeral? This is how you respond? Throwing me a funeral because you think I’m leaving?”
“You were going to abandon everything we built!” he yelled, his voice full of pain. “You were going to leave me in the dust for Denver. I know you’ve always put work over me, and this felt like the perfect way to end things!”
“No, Jake!” I interrupted, my voice shaking with anger. “The company offered YOU a position too! I was going to tell you everything. I wanted us to make the decision together.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “They… what?”
I nodded, tears streaming down my face. “They offered you a senior accountant position. Better pay, better benefits. I wanted us to move together.”
He looked lost. “I… I’m sorry. I just thought you’d leave me because I didn’t earn as much… I just…”
“Enough, Jake,” I interrupted. “I’m staying at my mom’s tonight. And we need to talk about boundaries.”
I walked past the chairs, flowers, and that ridiculous portrait. This funeral wasn’t just about Jake thinking I was leaving him. It was the death of our marriage, the trust we built, and the partnership I thought we had.
The next day, I accepted the promotion and called a divorce lawyer. I had to leave Jake.
Looking back, I realized that fate had its own plan. All those years of trying to have children, while heartbreaking, turned out to be a blessing. At least there weren’t kids involved who had to witness their father throwing a funeral for their living mother just to prove a point.
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