THE DEAD EX

[EVELYN AND LUCAS HOME] Evelyn woke up slowly, the way she had learned to since becoming pregnant. Not suddenly. Not with a jump. Just a quiet opening of her eyes, followed by a deep breath as she lay still for a moment, listening to the house around her. Silence. The soft hum of the refrigerator downstairs. The distant sound of a car passing outside. Nothing else. Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach. Seven months. Her belly was round now, heavy in a way that sometimes made it hard to turn in bed. She rubbed it gently, smiling when she felt a small kick. “Good morning,” she whispered. She turned her head toward the other side of the bed. Empty. Lucas wasn’t there. For a second, a small sting of disappointment touched her chest. She liked waking up beside him. Liked watching him sleep, liked the way he always pulled her closer even when he was half-asleep. But then she noticed the way his pillow was straightened. The blanket folded neatly at the end. Evelyn smiled. “He went to work early again,” she murmured. That was Lucas. Always leaving quietly so he wouldn’t wake her. Always choosing work over rest because he believed that one day, it would all be worth it. She pushed herself up carefully, placing her feet on the floor. Her back protested a little as she stood, and she let out a soft sigh, steadying herself on the bedframe before walking toward the bathroom. The mirror showed her a slightly chubby woman who looked tired but content. Her hair was messy. Her eyes slightly puffy. But there was a calmness in her expression. She brushed her teeth slowly, rinsed, and tied her hair back into a loose bun. As she turned to leave the bathroom, she glanced back at the bedroom. “I wish you were here,” she said quietly, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. She made her way downstairs one step at a time. Halfway down, she smelled it. Food. Her pace slowed. When she reached the kitchen, she stopped completely. On the table was a plate, covered neatly. Beside it sat a mug of tea and a folded piece of paper. Her chest warmed instantly. She walked over and lifted the cover. Eggs. Toast. Simple and warm. She picked up the note. *I had to leave early. Eat before it gets cold. I’ll try to come back before your appointment. Love you.* Evelyn pressed the note lightly to her chest before sitting down. Lucas didn’t have much. He never pretended otherwise. But he always gave her everything he could — attention, care, effort. That mattered more to her than money ever could. She ate slowly, enjoying every bite. Between mouthfuls, she thought about him at work, probably already sweating, probably already tired, still pushing himself. When she finished, she leaned back in the chair, resting both hands on her belly. “You have the best father,” she whispered to her unborn child. The baby kicked again, and Evelyn laughed softly. Her smile faded just a little as she remembered her hospital check-up. She didn’t want to go alone. She picked up her phone and scrolled until she found the name **Sandra**. Sandra had been her best friend for years. Through dating, marriage, pregnancy — everything. Evelyn trusted her without hesitation. She pressed call. “Hey, Eve,” Sandra answered cheerfully. “Hi,” Evelyn said. “Are you busy?” “No, not really. What’s up?” Evelyn hesitated for a moment. “Lucas Isn’t home, and I have my check-up soon. Can you help me find him and tell him to come back?” There was a brief pause on the line. “Of course,” Sandra said. “I’ll go look for him.” Relief washed over Evelyn. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” “Don’t worry about it,” Sandra replied. “Rest, okay?” “I will,” Evelyn said softly. She ended the call, unaware that she had just handed her life into the wrong hands. She stood up and began washing the dishes, humming quietly, believing — completely — that everything was still fine. [LAW OFFICE] Sandra ended the call and stared at her phone for a long second after the screen went dark. Her smile didn’t fade, it sharpened. She slipped the phone into her bag and exhaled slowly, as if steadying herself, then picked up her keys from the small table by the door. “She really trusts me,” Sandra murmured to herself. Outside, the city was already loud. Cars honking, people rushing, life moving like it always did. Sandra walked with purpose, heels clicking against the pavement as she headed toward a modest-looking building tucked between a pharmacy and a café. The sign on the door read: LAW OFFICE. Inside, the place smelled like paper and stale coffee. The waiting area was small, quiet, with old magazines stacked on a table no one ever touched. A receptionist glanced up. “Good morning.” She greeted. “Good morning,” Sandra replied smoothly. “I’m here to see Mr. Halvors.” The receptionist nodded and gestured down the hall. “Second door on the left.” Sandra thanked her and walked down the hallway, her steps unhurried, confident. She knocked once before opening the door. Mr. Halvors looked up from his desk. He was older, glasses perched low on his nose. “Miss Sandra,” he said. “Didn’t expect you today.” She smiled politely and sat down without being asked. “I need a favor.” He leaned back slightly. “What kind of favor?” Sandra reached into her bag and pulled out a folded document, placing it neatly on his desk. “I need divorce papers,” she said calmly. “Filed under the names Evelyn and Lucas.” The lawyer frowned. “Are they aware of this?” Sandra tilted her head, pretending to think. “Evelyn is pregnant. She’s emotional. She asked me to handle things.” That wasn’t true. But Sandra said it like it was. Mr. Halvors hesitated. “This is serious.” “I know,” Sandra replied. “That’s why I came to you.” She leaned forward just slightly. “I’ll pay.” That did it. Money always did. The lawyer sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed his temples. “I’ll need details.” Sandra began listing them effortlessly — names, addresses, dates — every piece of information she had learned over the years by being close, by listening, by pretending to care. As the printer hummed to life, Sandra’s mind wandered. She had watched Evelyn build a life she wanted. A loving husband.A child on the way. A simple happiness Sandra never seemed to reach. When the papers slid out of the printer, warm and official-looking, Sandra picked them up carefully. “These will do,” she said, scanning them. She stood, slipping them back into her bag. “Once he signs,” Mr. Halvors said, “the marriage becomes annulled.” Sandra smiled faintly. “Oh, it already is.” She walked out of the office without looking back. Outside, sunlight hit her face, and she paused for a moment, breathing in deeply. Next stop. Lucas. [CONSTRUCTION SITE] The construction site was already alive before the sun fully settled in the sky. Metal clanged against metal. Men shouted over the noise of machines. Dust floated in the air, sticking to skin, clothes, everything. Lucas wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and adjusted his helmet. His shirt clung to his body, damp from hours of work, his muscles aching in that familiar way he had grown used to. He didn’t complain. He never did. Work was work. And work was how he took care of Evelyn. He lifted another bag of cement, shoulders tightening as he carried it across the site. His mind drifted, like it always did when his body went on autopilot. Evelyn would be waking up by now. He pictured her in bed, one hand resting on her stomach, the other searching for him before she realized he had already left. That soft smile she always wore when she figured it out made his chest warm. He worked harder for that smile. “Lucas!” He turned at the sound of his name. One of the guys pointed toward the entrance of the site. “Someone’s looking for you.” Lucas frowned slightly. Nobody ever came looking for him here. He set the cement down and walked toward the edge of the site, boots crunching against gravel. That’s when he saw her. Sandra. She stood just outside the barrier, dressed neatly, holding her bag close to her side. She looked out of place among the dirt and noise, her eyes scanning until they landed on him. She smiled. Lucas’s brows knit together in confusion as he approached. “Sandra? What are you doing here?” She glanced around, then gestured subtly. “Can we talk somewhere quieter?” Concern crept in immediately. “Did something happen to Evelyn?” Sandra shook her head quickly. “No. She’s fine. The baby’s fine.” Lucas let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Then what’s wrong?” She hesitated, just long enough to make his stomach twist. “Let’s step aside,” she said. They moved a few steps away from the noise, stopping near a stack of wooden planks. Sandra opened her bag slowly, deliberately, as if each the movement mattered. “Lucas…” she started, her voice softer now. “I didn’t want to be the one to do this.” His heart began to pound. “Do what?” She pulled out the papers. Lucas stared at them without understanding at first. White sheets. Typed words. Official stamps. “What’s that?” he asked. Sandra handed them to him. “Evelyn asked me to give these to you.” His hands trembled as he took them. Divorce. The word blurred in front of his eyes. He flipped the pages once. Twice. Then again, faster, like maybe he had read it wrong the first time. His chest tightened, breathing suddenly hard. “No,” he whispered. “This can’t be right.” Sandra looked away, biting her lip. “She said… she said she’s tired.” Lucas shook his head, disbelief crashing into him. “No. She wouldn’t—” “She doesn’t want to be married to a poor man anymore,” Sandra interrupted gently. “She said she’s tired of struggling.” The words hit him like a slap. Poor. Struggling. Lucas felt his vision blur. His grip tightened on the papers until they crumpled. “She’s pregnant,” he said hoarsely. “She loves me. She wouldn’t do this without talking to me.” Sandra sighed, stepping closer. “Lucas… she didn’t want to hurt you. That’s why she didn’t come herself.” Tears welled up in his eyes despite his effort to hold them back. His chest hurt. His throat burned. “She promised me,” he said, voice breaking. “She promised we’d get through this together.” He shook his head over and over. “I need to see her.” Sandra reached out as if to stop him, but he was already moving. Lucas threw the papers to the ground and took off, boots pounding against concrete as he ran toward the exit. “I just need to hear it from her,” he muttered. “Just from her mouth.” He burst out of the site, breathing hard, eyes scanning the street wildly. Looking for a cab. He spotted one down the road and ran faster, waving his arm. “Stop—!” The sound came first. A loud horn. The screech of tires. Shouting. Lucas turned— And everything went black. His body flew on the asphalt and fell inside a nearby river, blood pooling out of the water, painting it red. Sandra gasped running to the bank of the river, divers had already started diving but none came out with a body. The truck driver ran away, leaving the truck behind so he won’t get caught. [AFTERNOON 2:17 PM—EVELYN AND LUCAS HOME] The afternoon sun slipped through the thin curtains, landing softly on the living room floor. Evelyn sat curled up on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, one hand holding her favorite romance novel while the other rested absentmindedly on her stomach. She had reread this book more times than she could count. Lucas used to tease her about it. “You already know how it ends,”he’d say, smiling as he kissed her forehead. “Why read it again?“ Because it made her feel safe. Because happy endings mattered. She turned a page slowly, blinking when the words blurred for a moment. The baby shifted inside her, a gentle kick that made her smile without thinking. “Easy,” she murmured softly, rubbing her belly. “Papa will be home soon.” The house smelled faintly of the food Lucas had cooked that morning. He always did that — waking up earlier than necessary just to make sure she ate properly. Even when money was tight. Even when he was exhausted. Evelyn glanced at the clock on the wall. 2:17 p.m. He should be on break by now. She made a mental note to call him later, then returned to her book. That’s when it happened. A sudden c***k broke the silence. Evelyn flinched. She looked up just in time to see their wedding photo slide off the shelf. The frame hit the floor, the glass shattering everywhere. Her heart dropped. For a moment, she didn’t move. She just stared at the broken picture lying face-down on the tiles, her chest tight, her breathing shallow. “No…” she whispered. She remembered one of the line she had always read in novels. It said: When a wedding picture breaks, it’s a bad omen. And something must have happened to the other partner. Evelyn pushed herself up slowly, one hand pressing into the couch for balance. She walked toward the frame, her steps cautious, uneasy. Kneeling down was harder now, but she did it anyway, ignoring the small ache in her back. She turned the picture over. The glass was cracked right through Lucas’s face. Her breath caught. “Stop it,” she muttered to herself. “It’s just superstition.” Still, her hands shook as she picked it up. That’s when her phone rang. She froze. Sandra. The name flashed repeatedly on the screen. Evelyn stared at the screen, dread creeping in for reasons she couldn’t explain. Her thumb hovered over the answer button for a second longer than usual before she finally picked up. “Hello?” she said. Sandra’s voice came through, soft but tense. “Evelyn… are you home?” “Yes,” Evelyn replied slowly. “Why?” Another pause. The kind that makes your stomach twist. “I… I was just calling to check on you,” Sandra said. Evelyn frowned. “Check on me? Did something happen?” Silence. Evelyn’s heart began to race. “Sandra, you’re scaring me.” Sandra exhaled shakily. “Where are you right now?” “In the living room,” Evelyn answered. “Sandra, what is it?.” “I need you to sit down,” Sandra said gently. Evelyn swallowed hard and lowered herself onto the couch, the broken photo frame still clutched in her hand. “I’m sitting,” she whispered. “What’s going on?” There was a faint sound on the other end of the line, like Sandra was somewhere busy. Traffic, maybe. “I went to see Lucas,” Sandra said slowly. “Like you asked.” Relief flickered briefly. “Good,” Evelyn said. “Did you remind him about my checkup?” “Yes,” Sandra replied. “But… Evelyn…” The relief vanished. “But what?” “He was really,” Sandra continued. “Really upset.” Evelyn’s brows knit together. “Upset about what?” Sandra hesitated. “I don’t think he was expecting what I brought him.” “What did you bring him?” Evelyn asked, confusion creeping into her voice. Sandra’s voice dropped, changing the topic to the real matter at hand. “Evelyn… there was an accident.” The world seemed to tilt. “Accident?” Evelyn repeated. “What accident?” Sandra inhaled sharply. “After I spoke to him, he ran, I don’t know why. But he was crossing the road—” “No,” Evelyn said quickly, shaking her head even though Sandra couldn’t see her. “No, you’re mistaken.” “There was a truck,” Sandra continued softly. “It came out of nowhere.” Evelyn’s grip tightened around the broken frame. “Stop,” she whispered. “Just stop.” “He was hit,” Sandra said. “They tried to help him, Evelyn. They really did.” The phone slipped from Evelyn’s fingers, hitting the couch. She grabbed it again instantly, pressing it to her ear. “No,” she sobbed. “You’re lying. You have to be lying.” “I wish I was,” Sandra replied, her voice breaking. “Lucas is gone.” The room felt like it was closing in. Evelyn screamed. A sharp, broken sound tore from her chest as she collapsed back into the couch, the shattered glass cutting into her palm without her noticing. “Lucas!” she cried. “No, please—” Sandra spoke quickly now. “Evelyn, listen to me. You have to breathe. Think about the baby.” “My husband,” Evelyn sobbed. “I want my husband.” “They couldn’t find his body,” Sandra added carefully. “The impact was bad. He was thrown… they think he fell near the river.” Evelyn’s cries turned quiet, broken, hollow. “No body?” she whispered. “Then he’s not dead.” Sandra’s voice softened. “I’m coming to you. Don’t do anything just wait for me.” The call ended. Evelyn sat there, shaking, staring at the cracked wedding photo in her lap. Her blood mixed with the glass shards, but she didn’t feel it. She pressed the picture to her chest. “Come back,” she whispered. “Please come back, it’s all a lie, I really want you.” She let out small sobs as she imagined her husband walking in through the door. *** A knock on the door came softly. Once. Twice. Evelyn didn’t move. She was still on the couch, curled into herself, the broken wedding picture resting on the floor beside her. Her eyes were swollen, unfocused, staring at nothing. Tears slid down her face silently now, like her body had run out of strength to cry loudly. The knock came again. “Evelyn,” Sandra called gently from the other side. “It’s me.” No answer. Sandra opened the door slowly, stepping inside like she was entering a fragile space. Her eyes immediately landed on Evelyn, and her face shifted into fake concern. “Oh my God…” she whispered. She rushed over, dropping her bag on the floor and kneeling in front of Evelyn. “Evelyn, look at me.” Evelyn didn’t respond. Sandra reached for her hands and gasped softly when she saw the small cuts on her palm. “You’re bleeding.” Evelyn finally blinked. “It doesn’t hurt,” she said dully. Sandra carefully took the broken frame away, setting it aside, then wrapped Evelyn’s hands in hers. “You’re in shock,” she murmured. “That’s why.” She pulled Evelyn into her arms, holding her tightly, rocking her slightly the way a sister would. “It’s okay,” Sandra whispered. “Let it out. I’m here.” That did it. Evelyn broke down again. Her body shook violently as sobs tore out of her, loud and painful. She clutched onto Sandra’s shirt like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. “He promised me,” Evelyn cried. “He promised he wouldn’t leave me.” “I know,” Sandra whispered, rubbing her back. “I know.” “I didn’t even say goodbye,” Evelyn continued. “What if he was scared? What if he was calling my name?” Sandra closed her eyes briefly, tightening her hold. “Please don’t think like that.” They stayed like that for a long time. When Evelyn finally quieted, she was exhausted, barely holding herself upright. Sandra guided her carefully to the bedroom, helping her lie down, tucking a blanket around her legs. “You need rest,” Sandra said softly. “For the baby.” Evelyn shook her head weakly. “I can’t sleep.” Sandra sat beside her on the bed. “Then we’ll make you.” Evelyn turned her head slightly. “They said his body wasn’t found?” Sandra nodded. “Yes.” Evelyn just blinked, tears pouring out of her eyes as she cried the more. Sandra hesitated — just enough. “There’s something,” she said slowly, “my grandmother used to say.” Evelyn looked at her. “What?” “When someone passes suddenly, and their body isn’t found,” Sandra explained gently, “their spirit doesn’t rest.” Evelyn’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” “They wander,” Sandra continued. “Confused. Tied to the living.” Evelyn swallowed. “Lucas wouldn’t want to be a wondering spirit.” “I know,” Sandra said quickly. “That’s why there’s a way to help.” Evelyn’s voice trembled. “How?” Sandra reached into her bag and pulled out a small folded paper — Lucas’s photograph, the same one from the wedding frame. “If there’s no body,” she said softly, “you lay their picture on a grave. You say goodbye properly. It gives their soul peace.” Evelyn stared at the photo. Her heart clenched. “Do people really do that?” she whispered. Sandra nodded. “It’s old. But it works.” Evelyn’s eyes filled with tears again. “I just want him to rest, He has suffered enough, but it just hurts Sandra, it does… he always wanted a better future, for himself and me but he just ended up dying.” Sandra squeezed her hand. “Then let’s do it.” [THE NEXT DAY-STRAY FIELD CEMETERY] The sky was heavy with clouds. Evelyn stood beside Sandra at the edge of the grave, her legs trembling, her hands clutching Lucas’s photograph to her chest. Her black dress hung loosely on her body, making her look smaller than she was. The grave was empty. Fresh soil piled beside it. No coffin. No flowers. Just wet sand. Sandra helped Evelyn kneel slowly, making sure she didn’t lose her balance. “This is where you speak to him,” Sandra said gently. “Tell him what you couldn’t say.” Evelyn’s lips trembled as she placed the photograph carefully on the dirt. “Lucas…” she whispered. Her voice broke immediately. “I didn’t want you to suffer like this, all I wanted was for a better future for our family, but you died trying to do that,” she said, tears falling freely now. “I never wanted you gone.” She pressed her palm over the photo. “I loved you even when things were hard.” Her hand moved to her belly. “Our baby is here. He’s strong.” Sandra stood behind her, hands folded, face calm. Evelyn continued, voice shaking. “Please don’t wander. Please don’t be angry with me.” She leaned forward, resting her forehead against the ground. “I release you,” she whispered. “Please rest.” Sandra stepped forward and gently covered the photograph with soil, one scoop at a time. “There,” she said softly. “It’s done.” Evelyn sobbed quietly as the last bit of the picture disappeared beneath the dirt. Sandra placed an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “You did the right thing,” she murmured. As Evelyn cried into her shoulder, Sandra looked down at the grave. Her lips curved slightly. Very slightly. Not with sadness. With satisfaction. She tightened her grip on Evelyn’s shoulder, her voice turning softer, sweeter. “I’ll stay with you,” she said. “I’ll help you raise your son. You don’t have to worry about anything.” Evelyn looked up at her with tired, grateful eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Sandra smiled then. A full smile. Warm. Caring. Convincing. “Always,” she said. “I’m your best friend anyway.” Evelyn nodded, resting her head against Sandra’s shoulder as they walked away from the grave. She didn’t see the way Sandra’s smile slowly faded. Didn’t see the way her eyes hardened. “Now he’s dead, it’s a draw, because I won’t let you have him.” Sandra thought, then smirked. Sandra helped Evelyn into the car, fastening her seatbelt like a devoted sister would. She closed the door carefully, even wiped Evelyn’s tears with her thumb. Then she walked around to the driver’s side. As she started the engine, her gaze met the cemetery through the windshield. “If I don’t get him, you don’t do either,” she murmured under her breath. The car pulled away.