My Husband Died Saving His Mistress's Son

My husband died on the operating table. When I went to claim the body, the doctor handed me a surgical consent form. It read: [Donor acts voluntarily. All risks accepted.] In the relationship column, he had written: [Father]. Mark’s ghost hovered beside me, waiting to see me break down and cry. Instead, I calmly took the clipboard and asked the doctor: "I want him cremated immediately. Is there an extra fee for express service?" 1 The doctor had probably never seen a wife so eager to turn her husband into dust. His expression was a mix of shock and confusion. "Mrs. Vance, regarding the accident during the procedure... would you like to know the details?" I glanced at the Patek Philippe on my wrist. "Save it. Just speed up the paperwork. I have to pick up my daughter from school." "Elena, are you doing this out of spite?" Mark floated in mid-air, his eyes wide with disbelief. I stared right through him for a few seconds, quickly accepting the reality that he was now a ghost. "Top priority, private furnace. I want the ashes in an hour." I pulled out my Black Card and handed it to the assistant standing nearby. The doctor was stunned into silence. But he nodded professionally, gesturing for us to sign so they could proceed. The assistant asked tentatively, "Does... the rest of the family need to be notified for a viewing?" "No need." I folded the surgical consent form. Then I stuffed it into my Birkin bag. "Elena! What is this attitude?" Mark’s voice rose an octave. "Yes, I lied to you. Leo is indeed my biological son. But he has leukemia! I’m his father. Was I supposed to just watch him die?" "If it were you, would you have stood by? You’re a mother too. How can you be so ununderstanding?" The more he spoke, the more self-righteous he felt. "Besides, I’ve already paid with my life! Doesn't death wipe the slate clean?" He roared impatiently. "Why are you in such a rush to burn me? What will Chloe think? What will Leo think? They didn't even get to see me one last time! Elena, you are vicious!" I smirked, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly. So what if I am? "The law states that I am your next of kin. I am the only person authorized to sign off on your remains." "The moment you felt smug about marrying me for my money, you handed over all your post-mortem rights to me." "As for your true love and your illegitimate son? Sorry. Even their right to see your dead face requires my approval." "Not happy about it? Deal with it." 2 By the time Chloe Miller and Mark’s mother stormed into the funeral home lounge, Mark had already been reduced to a pile of warm ash. He was packed into a cheap, nondescript wooden box. "Mark! Oh, my Mark!" My mother-in-law, Barbara, couldn't accept reality. She hugged the box, rolling on the floor, wailing uncontrollably. Chloe was dressed in her usual "fragile flower" outfit—white dress, slightly messy hair, pale face. She grabbed my arm. "You are so cruel! Even if the surgery had an accident halfway through, the marrow extraction could have continued! They could have used a machine to get it out!" "You burned him so fast... you didn't just burn him, you burned my son's life!" Mark floated behind Chloe. He had been ready to comfort her broken heart. He even opened his arms to hug her. But hearing those words, his hands froze in mid-air. A crack appeared on his facade of noble sacrifice. I shook off Chloe’s hand with disgust and pulled out a wet wipe to sanitize the spot she touched. I pointed to the box in Barbara’s arms. "You wanted Mark so badly? He’s all yours." "Burned at 1800 degrees. Very clean. The bone marrow you wanted is just carbon now. Do you want to grab a handful and mix it into a protein shake for Leo?" "AHHHH—!!!" Chloe finally snapped, letting out a piercing shriek. She grabbed my shoulders, cursing: "You knew Leo was waiting for this to save his life! How could you cremate him so fast! You probably didn't know, right? That was Mark’s biological son! His own flesh and blood!" I opened my mouth to say, I knew. SLAP! A crisp sound echoed in the room. Barbara slapped Chloe across the face. "You garbage! How dare you talk to Elena like that!" 3 Chloe’s head snapped to the side. She covered her face, looking at the small, elderly woman in disbelief. Barbara’s hand was still trembling. "It’s all because of you, you homewrecker! It’s you! You killed my Mark!" Barbara seemed to age ten years in an instant. She sat on the floor, hugging Mark’s ashes, crying bitterly. "My son! How could you be so stupid! You studied hard for ten years to get out of that small town. You had a bright future, you had a good wife like Elena... how did you... how did you let the devil blind you!" "For a mistress? For a bastard child? You lost your life! How is your mother supposed to live now?" Mark, floating above, turned red-eyed. "Mom, I did it voluntarily. Leo isn't a bastard, he carries the Vance bloodline..." Unfortunately, the dead cannot speak to the living. Barbara couldn't hear him. She poured all her hatred onto Chloe. She scrambled up and grabbed Chloe by the hair. "Give me back my son! You bring nothing but bad luck! As long as I’m alive, I will never let you have peace!" Chloe was shoved around, unable to say a word. When security finally dragged her out, she looked back at Barbara with shock, like she was looking at an ally who had suddenly betrayed her. I felt a blockage in my chest. Even an uneducated woman like Barbara knew that Mark’s good life was hard-earned. Only Mark himself didn't cherish it. After Chloe left, Barbara gingerly tugged at my sleeve. "Elena... my heart hurts." "Mark was foolish, but he’s gone now. Shouldn't we... hold a proper funeral for him?" I replied coldly. "You handle it. Mark died a sudden death. Superstition says big funerals for bad deaths bring bad luck." "Besides, the company is busy. I don't have time to entertain relatives I’ve never met." Barbara froze, looking at my icy profile. She seemed to realize something. Without Mark, she was nothing in this house. She stammered for a moment, then finally sighed. "I'll... I'll listen to you." "Mom will listen to whatever you say now." 4 Over the next few days, Mark’s ghost grew increasingly agitated. I didn't need my assistant’s report to know why. I could see it in his anxious face. Leo’s vitals were dropping. Chloe had spent her savings trying to keep her son alive, but it was a drop in the bucket. Mark screamed impotently at me while I was in a Zoom meeting. "Elena! Could you at least lend Chloe some money? Loan it! She'll pay you back!" "How can you be so cold-blooded? If Leo dies, his blood is on your hands too!" I took a slow sip of my coffee. "My money is hard-earned. Why should I give it to a woman who makes a living sleeping with married men?" "What does that child's life or death have to do with me? Why should I be responsible for the product of your dirty affair?" Mark couldn't answer either question. He floated there, mouth opening and closing, turning purple with rage like a semi-transparent balloon. I rubbed my temples, wondering when I could hire an exorcist to send him away for good. In the afternoon, I went to pick up Mia from school. At the school gate, Chloe rushed out again. Her son must really be dying. She radiated the desperation of a cornered animal. "Elena! Elena, stop!" My bodyguards immediately stepped forward to block her. Chloe dropped to her knees with a thud. "Elena, I beg you! Save Leo!" It was dismissal time. Surrounded by parents and students. Her kneeling instantly drew a crowd. She looked up, blood on her forehead, looking pitiful. "You’re a mother too! How can you watch a six-year-old boy die?" "Leo is fading fast! Mark is dead, but there’s still Mia!" "Mia and Leo are half-siblings! The match probability is high!" "It’s only right for a sister to save her brother! Mark would have wanted Leo to live. Why can't your daughter donate some bone marrow?" The crowd went into an uproar. Countless eyes turned on me like spotlights. Mia was terrified and shivered behind me. Chloe cried even more miserably. "Mia is seven! She’s healthy! Taking a little marrow won't hurt her! Leo is Mark’s only son. I beg you, please save him!" The setting sun hit Chloe’s bloodied face, giving her a halo of tragic martyrdom. And I, standing there in high-end black couture, looked cold and heartless. The bystanders’ cheap sympathy began to overflow. "That mom looks so pitiful." "Yeah, the kid is innocent. Only six years old. A life is a life." "A sister won't save her brother? That’s too cold. Rich people really have hearts of stone." A random middle-aged woman stepped forward, looking righteous, to lecture me. "Ma'am, you need to be bigger than this. If you can save him, let your daughter help. It’s good karma." I let out a cold laugh. Absurd. I signaled the bodyguards to put Mia in the car first. Then I looked at the woman. "Ma'am, your grandson is about six, right? Why don't you let him donate bone marrow?" "Since you’re so big on karma." The woman’s face changed, and she backed away awkwardly. "I... I’m not related to her..." I smiled, then spoke clearly to the crowd, enunciating every word. "This woman is my husband's first love. Knowing he was married, she willingly became a mistress and gave birth to an illegitimate child." "My husband died on the operating table a few days ago trying to donate bone marrow to this illegitimate child. She caused me to lose a husband, and my daughter to lose a father." "Now, to save her son, she wants to harvest my daughter." I looked around, my voice icy. "A mistress demanding the wife’s daughter donate bone marrow? Is this what you people call 'being the bigger person'?" Dead silence. The people who were pointing fingers shut their mouths instantly. Looks of disdain and disgust shifted from me to Chloe.

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