My Boyfriend Faked His Death, So I Married Someone Else Chapter 09
At the Crestwood Police Department, a kind female officer gave me water.
I held the cup with both hands, staring numb at the wall of the mediation room.
The man who hit me didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. He was still yelling.
“The one who should’ve died that day was you.”
“He was Ivy League bound. A bright future. And you killed him.”
“If I were his parents, I’d want you dead. An eye for an eye!”
The officer finally snapped. “Enough!”
I lifted my eyes. Stared ahead. “What if I told you Carter Wells isn’t dead? He’s alive. Successful. Married. Has a kid.”
“And his wife is the artist behind that exhibition. ‘Regret.'”
The man froze, confused.
I said softly, “You hit me for him.”
“You’re crazy! Dead is dead!” He was getting embarrassed.
“So you don’t even know his name. Never met him.”
“But because of some videos online, some clickbait articles, you attacked a complete stranger.” I summed it up.
The internet had turned Carter into a tragic, pitiful figure. Everyone grieved for him.
And those news stories became a trigger. People poured all their life’s frustrations onto one person.
Ridiculous. Ironic.
I refused to settle.
Dylan stayed on the phone, calming me down, saying he was on his way.
A few minutes later, I saw him rush into the station, looking for me. Our eyes met. He exhaled, relieved.
Sitting on a bench in the hallway, I asked him, “Do you believe me?”
I didn’t specify what. But Dylan nodded without hesitation.
He held me. Buried his face in my neck. “I believe everything you say.”
His hug was warm. Energy seemed to flow from him into me.
I told him everything about high school.
Dating Carter. Kendra’s bullying. SATS ending. Everyone saying Carter died because of me.
I never asked him to buy me a cake.
Then the cyberbullying. My mental breakdown. Suicide attempts. Getting expelled.
I really thought Carter was dead. Guilt and fear kept me awake every night. Eventually, I believed it was my fault. That I deserved it.
“And then a few days ago, I found out it was all a joke.” My voice shook. “Carter told me himself.”
“He’s not dead. He’s fine. And his joke nearly destroyed my life.”
Dylan held me tighter. “It’s over. It’s over. We’re leaving the past behind. Starting fresh.”
“You know what, Avery? You’re a really, really good person.”
“I had a crush on you back in high school. You probably don’t remember. I transferred in junior year. Everyone was cold to me. But you saw me sitting alone at the edge of the gym field and came to talk to me.”
He rambled on about little things I barely remembered.
“I never told you this, but I got sick. Had surgery the afternoon the SATS ended. Was in the hospital for a while. Then I couldn’t reach you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“Don’t you apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” My voice cracked.
Tears fell, soaking his shoulder.
He kissed my neck softly. “You deserve a better life, Avery.”
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. In that busy police station hallway, I sobbed like a child who’d been hurt for years.
Through the tears, I swore to myself: I was saying goodbye to the past. I was starting over with Dylan.
I would tell the truth. Clear my name.
I deserved that much.