Chapter 3 · Glad I'm Still Alive

It must be about 1.5 million dollars.

Out of nowhere, that number flashed through my mind.

He needed money.

But why?

I pulled out my phone, opened WhatsApp, and scrolled through my chat history with Blake.

Our conversations were pretty ordinary, just stuff like "What should we have for dinner tonight?" or "Are you off work yet?"

Then I checked his Twitter.

His most recent post was from three days ago: [Working hard, and keep it up!]

The photo was of an office desk.

I zoomed in on the photo, studying it closely.

On the desk, there was a cup of coffee, a notebook, and a stack of paper.

At the top of the stack, I could make out a few words, [Debt Collection Notice.]

My heart tightened.

Was Blake in debt?

I kept scrolling through his feed. Three months ago, he posted, [Things haven't been going my way lately, but I'll bounce back.]

Six months ago, he updated,[Feeling the pressure lately.]

I had no idea he was stressed out.

He never mentioned it to me.

After thinking it over, I picked up my phone and called Damon Edwards, Blake's best friend.

"Sandra?" Damon answered. "What's up?"

"Damon, I need to ask you something," I said. "Has Blake been going through any trouble lately?"

Damon was silent for a few seconds. "Sandra, why are you asking?"

"Just be straight with me," I said.

Damon let out a sigh. "Blake never told you?"

"Told me what?" I asked.

"He's in debt," Damon said. "About 700 thousand dollars."

My head buzzed.

What? 700 thousand dollars?

"How did he get into debt?" I asked.

Damon said, "Last year, he invested in a project his friend recommended, saying it was a guaranteed win. But it turned out to be a scam, and he lost it all.

"He put in 150 thousand of his own money and borrowed another 500 thousand. Debt collectors have been chasing him nonstop this year, and the pressure's been huge."

My hand was shaking as I held the phone.

"Why didn't he tell me?" I asked.

"He said he didn't want you to worry," Damon replied. "And, Sandra, don't read too much into it. I'm just bringing it up. Blake mentioned something when we had a drink recently."

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He said if he died, you'd get his insurance money and be able to get by," Damon replied.

I was stunned.

"I actually laughed at him and said, 'Dude, you're only thirty, why are you talking about dying?' But he was dead serious," Damon added.

After hanging up, I sat in my car, completely frozen.

Blake was 700 thousand dollars in debt.

He'd bought me a 1.5-million-dollar insurance policy.

And the beneficiary was him.

If I died, he'd get 1.5 million dollars. After paying off his debt, he still had 800 thousand dollars left.

To him, I was nothing more than a commodity with a 1.5 million dollar price tag.

Suddenly, I couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it all was.

Three years of marriage, and in his eyes, it didn't even measure up to 1.5 million dollars.

By the time it got dark, I drove home.

Blake had already made dinner and was waiting for me at the table.

"Why are you so late?" he asked.

"I went to the hospital for a follow-up," I lied.

"What did the doctor say?" he asked.

"The doctor said I'm recovering pretty well," I replied.

"That's good," Blake said, ladling out a bowl of soup for me. "Drink up. It'll help you get your strength back."

I looked at him, and suddenly, I barely recognized the man sitting across from me.

He was smiling at me, gentle and caring, playing the part of the perfect husband.

But I knew only two days ago, he'd spent seventeen minutes underneath my car.

He'd sliced through my brake line.

He wanted me dead.

"Blake," I said.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"How much do you owe?" I asked.

Blake's hand paused for a moment, then he said casually, "It's not much, just ten thousand dollars. I'll pay it off soon."

He was lying.

"Ten thousand dollars?" I let out a dry laugh. "Damon called me today and told me you owed seven hundred thousand."

Blake's face went pale.

"Sandra..." he started, his voice shaky.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I stared at him. "I'm your wife, Blake."

Blake stayed quiet for a long moment before finally saying, "I just didn't want you to worry."

"So you just decided to carry it all on your own?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"And what about the insurance?" I pressed. "Why did you buy me a 1.5-million-dollar policy?"

Blake looked up at me. "I was scared I couldn't pay off my debts, and those guys might come after you. If something happened to me, at least you'd have the insurance money to keep going."

He sounded so sincere.

But I didn't believe him.

Because the beneficiary listed on the insurance policy wasn't me. It was him.

"Why are you the beneficiary?" I asked.

Blake froze for a second. "Me? I didn't even realize. Maybe the agent messed up when filling out the paperwork."

"Then go change it," I said. "Switch the beneficiary to my mom."

Blake's expression shifted again. "Why your mom?"

I smirked, "You said you were worried I wouldn't get the insurance money if something happened to you. But right now, you're the beneficiary.

"If I die, you'd be the one getting the payout, not me. So change it to my mom. That way, if something happened to me, she'd get the money and look after you."

Blake opened his mouth, but couldn't get a word out.

Chapter 3

It must be about 1.5 million dollars.

Out of nowhere, that number flashed through my mind.

He needed money.

But why?

I pulled out my phone, opened WhatsApp, and scrolled through my chat history with Blake.

Our conversations were pretty ordinary, just stuff like "What should we have for dinner tonight?" or "Are you off work yet?"

Then I checked his Twitter.

His most recent post was from three days ago: [Working hard, and keep it up!]

The photo was of an office desk.

I zoomed in on the photo, studying it closely.

On the desk, there was a cup of coffee, a notebook, and a stack of paper.

At the top of the stack, I could make out a few words, [Debt Collection Notice.]

My heart tightened.

Was Blake in debt?

I kept scrolling through his feed. Three months ago, he posted, [Things haven't been going my way lately, but I'll bounce back.]

Six months ago, he updated,[Feeling the pressure lately.]

I had no idea he was stressed out.

He never mentioned it to me.

After thinking it over, I picked up my phone and called Damon Edwards, Blake's best friend.

"Sandra?" Damon answered. "What's up?"

"Damon, I need to ask you something," I said. "Has Blake been going through any trouble lately?"

Damon was silent for a few seconds. "Sandra, why are you asking?"

"Just be straight with me," I said.

Damon let out a sigh. "Blake never told you?"

"Told me what?" I asked.

"He's in debt," Damon said. "About 700 thousand dollars."

My head buzzed.

What? 700 thousand dollars?

"How did he get into debt?" I asked.

Damon said, "Last year, he invested in a project his friend recommended, saying it was a guaranteed win. But it turned out to be a scam, and he lost it all.

"He put in 150 thousand of his own money and borrowed another 500 thousand. Debt collectors have been chasing him nonstop this year, and the pressure's been huge."

My hand was shaking as I held the phone.

"Why didn't he tell me?" I asked.

"He said he didn't want you to worry," Damon replied. "And, Sandra, don't read too much into it. I'm just bringing it up. Blake mentioned something when we had a drink recently."

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He said if he died, you'd get his insurance money and be able to get by," Damon replied.

I was stunned.

"I actually laughed at him and said, 'Dude, you're only thirty, why are you talking about dying?' But he was dead serious," Damon added.

After hanging up, I sat in my car, completely frozen.

Blake was 700 thousand dollars in debt.

He'd bought me a 1.5-million-dollar insurance policy.

And the beneficiary was him.

If I died, he'd get 1.5 million dollars. After paying off his debt, he still had 800 thousand dollars left.

To him, I was nothing more than a commodity with a 1.5 million dollar price tag.

Suddenly, I couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it all was.

Three years of marriage, and in his eyes, it didn't even measure up to 1.5 million dollars.

By the time it got dark, I drove home.

Blake had already made dinner and was waiting for me at the table.

"Why are you so late?" he asked.

"I went to the hospital for a follow-up," I lied.

"What did the doctor say?" he asked.

"The doctor said I'm recovering pretty well," I replied.

"That's good," Blake said, ladling out a bowl of soup for me. "Drink up. It'll help you get your strength back."

I looked at him, and suddenly, I barely recognized the man sitting across from me.

He was smiling at me, gentle and caring, playing the part of the perfect husband.

But I knew only two days ago, he'd spent seventeen minutes underneath my car.

He'd sliced through my brake line.

He wanted me dead.

"Blake," I said.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"How much do you owe?" I asked.

Blake's hand paused for a moment, then he said casually, "It's not much, just ten thousand dollars. I'll pay it off soon."

He was lying.

"Ten thousand dollars?" I let out a dry laugh. "Damon called me today and told me you owed seven hundred thousand."

Blake's face went pale.

"Sandra..." he started, his voice shaky.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I stared at him. "I'm your wife, Blake."

Blake stayed quiet for a long moment before finally saying, "I just didn't want you to worry."

"So you just decided to carry it all on your own?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"And what about the insurance?" I pressed. "Why did you buy me a 1.5-million-dollar policy?"

Blake looked up at me. "I was scared I couldn't pay off my debts, and those guys might come after you. If something happened to me, at least you'd have the insurance money to keep going."

He sounded so sincere.

But I didn't believe him.

Because the beneficiary listed on the insurance policy wasn't me. It was him.

"Why are you the beneficiary?" I asked.

Blake froze for a second. "Me? I didn't even realize. Maybe the agent messed up when filling out the paperwork."

"Then go change it," I said. "Switch the beneficiary to my mom."

Blake's expression shifted again. "Why your mom?"

I smirked, "You said you were worried I wouldn't get the insurance money if something happened to you. But right now, you're the beneficiary.

"If I die, you'd be the one getting the payout, not me. So change it to my mom. That way, if something happened to me, she'd get the money and look after you."

Blake opened his mouth, but couldn't get a word out.