They say love makes people do crazy things. But hosting your living wife’s funeral? That’s a whole new level of insanity.

Jake and I have been married for six years. We met through my college friend Rachel at a dinner party, and I still remember how he made everyone laugh with his terrible dad jokes.

That night, I told Rachel he was different from anyone I’d ever met.

Six months later, he proposed in our favorite coffee shop, and I knew I’d made the best decision of my life by saying yes.

We started trying for a baby right after the wedding.

However, things didn’t go as planned. I’d get a negative test every month and we couldn’t understand what was wrong. After two years of trying, we decided to visit fertility specialists.

At that point, we were really hopeful. We thought this would work and we’d get the positive test results we’d been waiting for.

But I guess fate wasn’t on our side. It was so heartbreaking to see how none of the treatments were working for us.

Meanwhile, the constant questions from well-meaning relatives crushed my soul.

“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!”

Last Thanksgiving, my cousin announced her pregnancy, and I had to excuse myself to cry in the bathroom. Jake found me there as I sobbed sitting on the closed toilet lid.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, kneeling in front of me. “Want to ditch this place and get 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.”

That’s Jake. He always knew how to lift me when the world felt too heavy.

While society kept trying to make me feel like less of a woman for not being a mother, he made me feel whole. Complete.

Now, let me share a bit about the better part of my life. The part that excites me.

I’ve been climbing the corporate ladder since I started my career. Currently, I’m a manager at a large firm, overseeing a team of fifteen people.

We landed three major clients last quarter, and I couldn’t be prouder of what we’ve achieved.

Meanwhile, Jake works as an accountant at a smaller firm. He makes less than I do, but it’s never been an issue between us.

He gets excited about the smallest wins at his job, like implementing a new filing system or helping a junior colleague understand a complex spreadsheet.

“Guess what?” he’d bounce into the kitchen after work. “Remember that reconciliation issue that was driving everyone crazy? I figured it out!”

I’d match his enthusiasm every time. “That’s amazing! Tell me everything about it!”

Some of my 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.

Jake and I had always been on the same wavelength until last month. Until the day my world turned upside down.

I was in my office reviewing quarterly reports when my boss, David, called me in urgently.

“Lexi, we need you in Denver,” he said while looking at his computer screen. “The account is hanging by a thread, and you’re the only one who can salvage it.”

“Denver? When?”

“Tomorrow morning. Should be about a week.”

Oh, no, I thought.

Going on the trip meant missing Jake’s birthday that weekend. We’d been planning a huge BBQ party for weeks, and he had already bought a new grill.

I felt so terrible and had no idea how to break the news to him.

I found him in our kitchen when I reached home that evening. He was humming while chopping vegetables.

“Something smells amazing,” I said, trying to delay the inevitable.

“Just trying out a new marinade for the party,” he grinned. “Want to taste?”

“Jake, honey… I need to tell you something.”

I think he heard something in my voice because he immediately put the knife down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I have to go to Denver. Tomorrow. For a week.”

He looked at me with eyes wide open.

“But…” he began. “The birthday BBQ…”

“I know, I’m so sorry. 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 could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “We can definitely take that road trip. It’s gonna be great.”

I watched as he picked up the knife again and continued chopping the vegetables.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” I said. “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. “Just… come back soon, okay?”

The week in Denver was intense but successful. Through marathon negotiation sessions and late-night strategy meetings, we managed to not only save the account but expand it.

Everything went so great that I managed to wrap things up a day early. I was super excited to surprise Jake.

However, when I turned onto our street, I knew something was wrong.

Cars lined both sides of the road, and people dressed in black were walking toward our house. My first thought was that something had happened to Jake.

I parked haphazardly in our driveway and rushed toward the backyard, where I could hear murmured conversations. What I saw stopped me in my tracks.

Rows of chairs were set up on our lawn and flower arrangements covered every surface. As I looked around, my gaze landed on the massive portrait at the front.

My heart skipped a beat as I realized it was my portrait. It was a blown-up photo of me surrounded by black ribbons.

I was standing in my backyard, watching people attending MY funeral. I couldn’t believe it.

As I walked into the backyard, all I could hear were gasps and murmurs. Some people even dropped their lemonades. Then, I spotted my mother in the crowd. It looked like she’d seen a ghost.

Later, I learned Jake had told everyone he was throwing me a ‘special welcome home surprise party.’ The guests had arrived expecting balloons and cake, not a funeral setup. Most of them were wondering if Jake had lost his mind.

I was horrified when I saw him greeting everyone like I had actually passed away.

“Jake!” I called out.

He spun around, and his face turned red in anger.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“What am I doing here? What are YOU doing?” I snapped. “Jake, what is this? Why are you hosting my funeral?!”

“Your mom told me the truth!” he shouted. “About your promotion. About Denver. About how you’re leaving me behind!”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

He was talking about the promotion offer that I hadn’t told anyone about except my mother. I didn’t tell him yet because I wanted to discuss it with him after returning from the trip.

“Mom told you?” I turned to my mother.

“I thought he knew, sweetie,” she called out while pushing through the crowd. “I came here as soon as your neighbor called me after seeing the funeral setup. I’ve been trying to talk 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?” I gestured at the funeral setup. “This is your response? Throwing me a funeral because you think I’m leaving you?”

“You were gonna abandon everything we built!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “You were gonna leave me to settle in Denver. I know you’ve always prioritized work over me, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to get rid of our relationship. After all, we don’t even have kids—“

“No, you absolute idiot!” I interrupted. “The company offered you a position too! I was waiting to tell you everything. I wanted us to make the decision as a team!”

Jake looked at me with eyes wide open. He didn’t know what to say.

Meanwhile, people started shuffling away, probably realizing this wasn’t the entertainment they’d signed up for.

“They… what?” Jake’s voice was barely a whisper.

“They offered you a senior accountant position. Better pay, better benefits. I wanted us to move together.” I felt tears streaming down my face. “But this? Hosting my funeral because you assumed I’d abandon you? That’s not what partners do, Jake. That’s not what trust looks like.”

He reached for my hand. I stepped back.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I just thought you’d leave me because I didn’t earn as much… I just—”

“Enough, Jake,” I cut him off. “I’m staying at my mom’s tonight.”

Then I looked at her.

“Though we need to have a serious talk about boundaries.”

As I walked past the chairs, flowers, and that ridiculous portrait, I realized this funeral wasn’t just for the woman Jake thought was leaving him.

It was a funeral for our marriage, for the trust we’d built, and for the partnership I thought we had.

I called my boss the following day and accepted the promotion. Then, I called a divorce lawyer and told him about my decision. I had to leave Jake.

Looking back now, I’m grateful that fate had its own plans. All those years of unsuccessful attempts to have children turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

At least there weren’t any kids who had to watch their father throw a funeral for their living mother just to prove a point.