Part 2When He Pretended to Be Comatose, I Declared Him Dead

I was quietly folding Alex’s dress uniform when the hospital room door opened softly.

The General, followed by the Colonel, the Major, and several other high-ranking officers, entered with somber expressions.

The General’s voice was heavy with sorrow. “Mrs. Hayes, our deepest condolences. You must take care of yourself.”

“Alex was a fine soldier. The military will handle his arrangements with the utmost respect and ensure you are taken care of.”

I looked up, my face tearless, my expression resolute. “Sir, as Alex’s wife, I would like to request that he be awarded the Medal of Valor. And I ask the military to organize a funeral befitting a hero.”

The room fell silent. The officers exchanged surprised glances. They hadn’t expected me to be so composed, to be thinking of my husband’s honors while suppressing my own pain.

Celeste immediately stepped out from the corner, her voice urgent. “Ma’am, I know you’re grieving, but determining military honors is a matter for the review board!”

I knew what she was worried about. Once the “hero” status was officially declared, Alex’s death would be a matter of national record. Her and Alex’s entire plan would fall apart.

I ignored her completely, my gaze meeting the officers’ with clear-eyed determination as I methodically listed Alex’s achievements that qualified him for the highest honor.

The officers’ expressions shifted from surprise to gravity, and then to deep respect.

“Mrs. Hayes, you are right! We were not thinking clearly!” the Colonel said, his voice firm. “This medal must be applied for!”

The General nodded emphatically, his eyes filled with admiration as he looked at me.

“To be this composed, to fight for your husband’s rightful honor at a time like this… Alex was a lucky man to have you.”

The other officers murmured in agreement, their gazes filled with reverence.

Celeste was left standing on the sidelines, utterly defeated, unable to utter another word of protest. She could only watch as the officers made the decision on the spot, setting in motion the application for the Medal of Valor and the plans for the funeral.

With that settled, I turned to the General with one final request.

“Sir, according to regulations, the family can take possession of a fallen soldier’s body. Now that he has been declared brain-dead, please allow me to take Alex home today.”

The General agreed immediately and assigned soldiers to assist me.

I took one last look at the handsome face on the hospital bed, my own expression unreadable.

You want to fake your death?

Then I’ll give you a state funeral. I’ll nail you and your conspiracy to a hero’s tombstone.

The show was just beginning.

As I expected, Alex’s parents, tipped off by Celeste, were waiting at home, ready to cause a scene.

My mother-in-law was wailing, slapping her thighs. “My son! My poor, ill-fated son! Open your eyes and look!”

“This heartless woman, your wife, she doesn’t want you to live! She’s trying to kill you!”

My father-in-law pointed a trembling finger at me. “What have we done to deserve a cold-blooded monster like you in our family?”

“The doctors said they could maintain him, and you insisted on pulling the plug!”

“This is murder! You’re the one who killed my son!”

In my past life, such baseless accusations would have broken my heart. But now, I felt nothing but a calm emptiness.

I pulled out the official death certificate. “Mom, Dad, this is from the hospital. It’s in black and white, perfectly clear.”

“You call me cold-blooded, heartless!”

“Well, let me ask you this: is keeping Alex tethered to machines like an object, lying there as a shell of a man, is that what you call love?!”

I pointed to the uniformed portrait of Alex on the wall. “Your son was a soldier, a hero who stood tall! He shouldn’t be lying in a hospital like a zombie, causing you pain and becoming a burden to the military.”

“What you’re doing now is tainting his sacrifice. It’s an insult to his honor as a soldier!”

My words struck a chord, hitting them with the full force of morality and patriotism.

They were instantly silenced.

My mother-in-law’s lips trembled, but all she could manage to choke out was, “Fine! Even if you’re right! We can’t just cremate him!”

“I’m taking my son home! We’ll preserve him in a refrigerated casket!”

“What if there’s a miracle? Maybe medical science will advance and they’ll be able to save him one day!”

My father-in-law immediately chimed in. “That’s right! We’ll preserve him! We can’t just give up on our son!”

I almost laughed out loud.

Preserve the body? It was just another stalling tactic concocted by Celeste and Alex.

In my second life, I had requested a transfer to escape Alex’s plot. But he’d still managed to hunt me down and run me off the road. As I lay dying, Alex had gloated, revealing every detail of his plan. His parents weren’t just bystanders; they were accessories. Their hysterics now were just a performance to buy Alex more time to “wake up.”

Once he did, a third, carefully planned “accident” would be waiting for me.

There was no more time to waste.

I took a deep breath, my voice calm. “Dad, Mom, there’s no need to argue.”

“Alex must be cremated immediately.”

The room fell silent. His parents’ expressions soured, and they looked ready to start screaming again.

I slowly pulled a handwritten letter from my bag.

It was the suicide note Alex had penned during a moment of “brief consciousness” at the hospital, a calculated move to cement his image as a devoted husband.

I put on a pained expression and began to read aloud.

“…If my life becomes a burden, I would rather it end with dignity than become a weight upon those I love.”

“…Please let me go quietly, with honor.”

I folded the letter, my eyes sweeping over his parents’ instantly ashen faces.

“This was Alex’s final wish.”

“To cremate him immediately, to let him depart with dignity, that is true love.”

“Your bickering now… are you trying to satisfy your own selfishness, or do you simply not care about what Alex wanted?”

This counter-attack left them speechless. What could they say? Could they deny their own son’s last will and testament?

I watched the panic in their eyes, a cold smile forming in my heart.

Alex, every word you wrote to build your facade has now become a nail in your own coffin.

There’s no escaping the fire this time.