DOWNLOAD APP
He Faked His Death for Another Woman / Chapter 3: Ghosts in the Stairwell
He Faked His Death for Another Woman

He Faked His Death for Another Woman

Author: Patrick Galloway


Chapter 3: Ghosts in the Stairwell

When chat bubbles blinked in front of my eyes, I thought I was losing my mind to grief.

It was like some kind of twisted live-tweet from another universe, scrolling just above the real world, always one step ahead of my pain.

But the messages didn’t stop—

[If she heads up to the roof now, she’ll see he’s not dead—plot twist, anyone?]

[She hasn’t eaten in two days because of him. She can barely walk, but she’s still heading for the rooftop.]

Dragging my heavy legs, I walked toward the rooftop.

Each step sounded too loud in the stairwell, echoing against cheap tile and faded paint. The smell of bleach and old gym shoes hung in the air. My hand gripped the banister like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth.

Just a short flight of stairs left. I heard a voice I knew all too well, cocky and careless: “Guess I’m not even cold in the ground and people are already moving on.”

Even after all these years, Evan's voice was unmistakable—swaggering, with that locker room bravado. But hearing it now, it sounded like someone digging up a corpse.

The voice came from Evan’s good friend Derek’s phone.

“Not yet, man.”

“Where’s Natalie? She hasn’t noticed anything, right?”

Derek: “No way she could notice. She’s been running around nonstop. Yesterday she almost fainted from crying. She’s probably still bawling in her room.”

Evan’s tone was casual: “Comfort her for me a bit more.”

Another friend, Marcus, chimed in: “But Evan, you really fell for your little songbird, huh? Faked your death and chased her all the way to London, and even had us cover for you.”

The chat bubbles were true.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, raising goosebumps along my arms despite the stuffy heat of the stairwell. My stomach twisted so hard I nearly doubled over, but I forced myself to keep listening. My nails dug crescents into my palm, grounding me in the moment.

I gripped the handrail tight. Every cell in my body was trembling.

I heard Evan say:

“Whether I fell for her or not, that’s none of your business. Just help me keep it from her.”

Derek asked: “So, are you still getting married?”

“Of course. When I come back, our wedding will go on as planned. But before that, you’ve got to let me go crazy for love just this once, right?”

“That’s true.”

“Once I’m married, I’ll only be allowed to orbit one person. I won’t get another chance, haha.”

The three of them laughed knowingly. But my blood ran cold.

Their laughter echoed off the stairwell walls, a private joke I was never meant to hear, and suddenly, the world seemed cruelly tilted. I felt the back of my throat burn, holding back a scream or a sob—maybe both.

I was shaking uncontrollably. I’d prayed so many times that Evan might still be alive. But I never imagined it would be like this.

I always thought hope was supposed to be a comfort. But this—this was something else entirely. It was like waking up from a nightmare only to realize you're still dreaming.

You’ve reached the end of this chapter

Continue the story in our mobile app.

Seamless progress sync · Free reading · Offline chapters