My Husband's Funeral, My New Beginning

My husband, Andrew, told me he was dying from an inoperable brain tumor, then drove his car off a pier, a grand gesture to spare me, his unassuming librarian wife, from a long, painful goodbye.

In my first life, I believed him.

I jumped into the freezing bay, screaming my secret – I' d just won ten million dollars in the Powerball, enough to save him.

But his eyes met mine in the dark water, cold and calculating, utterly devoid of hope.

He didn't swim to the surface; he swam to me, his charming smile replaced by a grimace of pure greed.