Hello... Mrs. Me

THE BURIAL CEREMONY

ANERIA'S POV

“Welcome home, husband,” I flashed a bright, innocent smile at him.

From now on, I'm going to be the best wife you've ever had, and I'm going to make you love me more than you did your wife.

I felt him stiffen; his hand, which cradled my injured one, went lax.

Did I say that out loud? No, I'm sure I didn't.

“Come, sit down while I dress this up,” he said, pulling me to the island. placing his hand on each sides of my waist, he lifted me up swiftly on the counter.

All the while, the frown didn’t leave his face. We were the same height now, and I had nothing to do but stare at his handsome face, different unhealthy thoughts running through my mind at his close proximity.

He was currently standing between my legs, unconscious of the effect his closeness was having on me.

“Thankfully, it's not deep,” he murmured, finally taking his eyes off my hand to stare at me.

“And if you keep on looking at me that way, I might just eat you alone for dinner,” he whispered, smiling as my cheeks burned.

“Sit here. I’ll prepare something quickly,” he said, turning his back and walking toward the counter where my chopped vegetables lay temporarily abandoned.

“No, I can finish up what I was making quickly,” I protested, trying to get down from the counter. This was no injury at all and shouldn't impede my duty as a wife.

“Tess, don't,” he commanded, turning to give me a sharp look.

I flinched involuntarily and spaced out for a bit. That tone brought back memories I wanted to forget.

He frowned, noticing the effect his actions had on me just now.

He finally looked away, unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up gently. “Just watch and be good,” he said in his usual calm voice, giving me a reassuring smile before washing his hands and picking up the knife.

That night, we ended up eating stir-fried macaroni with meatballs and braised chicken wings.

I realized he was quite a good cook himself and I wouldn't mind eating whatever he made.

We were both in our room, I was currently watching a reality show while he worked on his MacBook. We sat close to each other on the double sofa before the TV.

“I have a ceremony to attend tomorrow. Would you like to accompany me?” he suddenly asked, his concentration solely on his computer.

Having nothing better to do than laze around, I shrugged. “Sure,”

His head jerked up from his screen as he looked at me. “You're not going to work?”

He suddenly frowned. “You didn’t go today either. Claire called me earlier to ask about you,”

I had work? How the hell did I not remember that important detail?

I fumbled to reply but came up blank.

“It’s fine. I understand if you want to take some time off,” he nodded twice, returning his attention to his screen.

“I’ll pick you up by 12:00 noon Is that fine by you?”

He looked up at me from his screen, giving me his undivided attention as he waited patiently for an answer.

“It’s okay. I’ll call Claire to reschedule any appointments I have by that time,” Where the hell did that come from?

I tried not to show my surprise at the words that just came out of my mouth. Was Tess back to take control of her body?

Tess, are you in there?

It sounded weird asking that question, but it was necessary, though I got no response.

I decided to retire early, leaving Lucas—who was currently on a phone call—on the sofa.

I momentarily woke up in the middle of the night to his soft breathing down my neck as he wrapped his right arm around me from behind.

I remember thinking with a smile as I drifted back to sleep, This must be how they slept each night. Such a loving couple.

The next day wasn't as eventful as the first. By the time I woke up, Lucas was gone.

I did some digging around and realized I also had a MacBook, but surprisingly, no matter how hard I searched, I couldn’t seem to find a phone.

That was weird. I was sure someone like Tess would have one.

The doorbell rang twice while I was checking out what to wear.

I paused for a while, thinking, Who could that be?

Hopefully not one of her friends or relatives.

I checked the intercom to see a tall man in a suit, but I couldn’t quite see his face.

“Here we go,” I muttered, pressing the key code and opening the door.

“Hello, ma’am. Boss asked me to drop this package for you,”

He rushed the words out immediately after I opened the door, extending a branded, light blue gift bag in his hand.

He seemed to be in his early thirties, probably the same age as my husband. My guess was that he was Lucien’s personal assistant.

He was quite handsome and calm, though he also looked to be in a hurry.

“Ooh, thank you,” I said, smiling up at him and was about to invite him in for some refreshments when he suddenly vanished.

What was that about? Probably he had other errands to run.

I shrugged it off, closing the door. My attention was more on what was in the bag.

“Woah!” I gasped, staring at the black one-piece, dress in my hands, which felt so soft to the touch.

It must have cost a fortune, I thought, hurrying to the room to put it on.

It wasn’t too flashy but fit perfectly, hugging all my curves and accentuating my look.

I let down my hair and brushed a little make up on to accentuate looks.

The doorbell rang again at exactly 11:55 p.m. Knowing who it was, I picked up my handbag and, after a brief greeting, followed the man who had come to deliver the package earlier.

He led me to the black Rolls-Royce parked across the street and opened the door for me.

“Thank you,” I said warmly as he helped me into the car.

“You look beautiful,” my husband, who I realized was sitting inside waiting, spoke immediately as I settled in. His eyes wandered over me before settling on my face.

“It’s all thanks to you,” I replied with a blush, the interior of the car suddenly feeling hot.

“You don’t have to thank me. You’re my wife,” he replied in a somber tone, looking out of the car.

What was with the sudden decline in his mood?

---

We arrived at a secluded area dotted with fleets of expensive cars, all parked before a looming, black iron gate leading to a large expanse of land.

“What’s this occasion about?” I asked as we got down from the car, suddenly feeling uneasy at the familiarity of the area.

“It’s a burial ceremony held by one of my father’s associates. He wanted me to attend in his place,”

He extended his hand towards me, and we walked toward the gate, stopping to greet people at intervals as we entered the large estate filled with various burial grounds.

We finally reached where the priest was standing beside a freshly dug grave, reading from a large Bible.

I zoned out, looking around at everyone. Surprisingly, some faces seemed familiar, like I knew them in my former life.

It was time for the family of the deceased to say their goodbyes—and that was when I saw him.

Looking somber in black, with his father by his side, he walked toward the grave and dropped a single tulip flower into the open pit.

A huge rock settled at the bottom of my stomach. And as if being pulled by a rope, I found myself walking toward him, though my feet seemed heavy with each step I took .

They finally stopped, a few feet from the pit, and with a determined resolution, I forced myself to look in.

An anguished sob caught in my throat while staring at myself in my initial body—looking sad and alone, even in death.

“No.” I gasped, clutching at my chest in unbearable pain, as I dropped down on my knees.

Then everything went black.