My Mistress Ordered My Funeral While I Was Still Alive Chapter 06
I didn’t speak.Â
Harrison didn’t move.Â
The floor was a total disaster area.Â
Photos, the plaque, the lighter, the burn barrel.Â
And the diamond ring Amber had thrown.Â
He bent down, his hand reaching for the metal.Â
“Don’t bother.”Â
His hand froze in mid–air.Â
I pushed my sleeve up slightly, slid my ownÂ
wedding band off my finger, and dropped it ontoÂ
the coffee table.Â
“I won’t be needing it anymore.”Â
Harrison stared at the two identical rings sittingÂ
side by side.Â
A long, agonizing silence passed before he finally forced his eyes up to meet mine.Â
“Evelyn, when did you find out?”Â
I knelt down, calmly gathering the scatteredÂ
photos from the floor.Â
The wedding dress.Â
The ultrasound photo.Â
The baby onesies.Â
Each photo felt like a layer of skin being ripped from my body, but the pain had gone past theÂ
point of tears. My face remained entirely blank.Â
“When she walked into my office and said her boyfriend’s name was Harrison Sterling?”Â
“When you gave her my wedding ring?”Â
“Or maybe even earlier.”Â
I stacked the photos neatly and set them rightÂ
next to the Custom Epitaph.Â
“March twelfth of last year.”Â
Harrison’s eyelid twitched violently.Â
I stood up, walked into the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of water.Â
“That morning, you held me and said, ‘Evelyn, the three of us are going to be so happy‘.”Â
“That night, you made me an Organic botanicalÂ
wellness tonic.”Â
“You told me I looked drained, that I needed toÂ
nourish my body.”Â
The water in my glass was freezing cold.Â
I took a slow sip.Â
“What did you put in it?”Â
Harrison’s face looked skeletal under the lights.Â
“Evelyn, who told you that?”Â
“Mifepristone.”Â
I looked at him across the counter.Â
“The dosage was small. Masked by the earthy herbal infusion, it was impossible to taste.”Â
“You didn’t switch up the recipe every day becauseÂ
you cared about my health.”Â
“You did it to hide the chemical smell.”Â
His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto theÂ
hardwood floor.Â
“You knew.”Â
“I knew.”Â
I pulled my phone from my pocket, opened atÂ
photo, and held the screen in front of his face.Â
It was a lab report.Â
Submitted Sample: Earthy herbal tonic residue.Â
Result: Positive for Mifepristone trace elements.Â
Harrison stared at the screen, his lips tremblingÂ
uncontrollably.Â
“When did you…”Â
“The night of the miscarriage.”Â
“While I was blacking out from the pain, I suddenlyÂ
remembered how off that last drink tasted.”Â
“The next morning, I had the nurse quietly bag theÂ
trash from our kitchen.”Â
“Harrison, I loved you.”Â
“But I was never stupid.”Â
His eyes flushed a sudden, brilliant red.Â
“Evelyn, I regret it every single day.”Â
“I didn’t ask if you regretted it.”Â
I slid the phone back into my pocket.Â
“Do you honestly think the word ‘regret‘ can payÂ
back a human life?”Â
Still on his knees, he reached out, trying to graspÂ
the hem of my dress.Â
I took a step back.Â
“Don’t touch me.”Â
His hand stayed locked in the empty air.Â
“Evelyn, what do you want from me?”Â
“The money, the house, the corporate shares–youÂ
can have whatever you want.”Â
I let out a laugh.Â
Even now, he still thought this was a business dealÂ
open for negotiation.Â
I walked back into the living room, unclipped theÂ
voice recorder hidden beneath my collar, and laidÂ
it on the table.Â
“Everything Amber just said in this room isÂ
recorded.”Â
“Including the part where she admits you said theÂ
child couldn’t be kept.”Â
Harrison stared at the sleek black device, beads ofÂ
cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.Â
“And there’s more.”Â
I pulled open the console drawer and retrieved aÂ
thick manila folder I had prepared weeks ago.Â
“The financial report in your study has multipleÂ
pages of fabricated data.”Â
“I took photos of the offshore ledgers from lastÂ
year.”Â
“Two consecutive years of illegal wire transfersÂ
between you and your uncle.”Â
“You know exactly what those documents meanÂ
for the SEC.”Â
Harrison’s breathing fractured into panickedÂ
gasps.Â
“Evelyn.”Â
“Please don’t do this.”Â
“I don’t want a divorce.”Â
I looked down at him.Â
“Did you completely forget what my major was inÂ
college?”Â
His mouth opened.Â
No answer came out.Â
I didn’t bother waiting for one.Â
The doorbell rang.Â
I walked over and swung the door wide open.Â
Two people were standing under the hallway light.Â
My divorce attorney.Â
AndÂ
my former classmate from the InternalÂ
Revenue Service.

