I Do…I Did…

"'Til death do us part" could mean by his hand, but who cared? He was rich, and I came into this marriage with nothing—and that was exactly what I would leave it with, according to the prenup.

“You can just walk the streets like when I found you,” he had said while signing it.

I probably shouldn’t have signed it. In hindsight, I probably should have just walked away from the whole marriage right then and there. I had nothing to gain from it but years of abuse and a bruised ego that would keep me from being independent in the long run.

But there was one thing in the prenup that was to my favor: if he died before our tenth anniversary—either by accident, illness, or natural causes—then his entire fortune would go to me.

No one expected him to slip and hit his head on our porcelain tub one week prior to our anniversary.

The cops certainly didn’t buy it.

“Ma’am, where were you the night of your husband’s death?”

“I was downstairs, watching a rerun of Roseanne with our housekeeper.”

“Can she back that up?”

“Of course!”

They were surprised when she did. They were more surprised when our stories matched down to the last detail—the episode of Roseanne, the snack we were having, why we were watching TV together. Our stories never strayed.

The alibi was not bulletproof, but it was enough to cast reasonable doubt, and without any evidence to place me at the scene of the crime, they dropped the case against me…for now.

“Did I do good?” Serena asked me when we were alone in the mansion—MY mansion now.

I smiled and pulled my checkbook out of my purse.

“Very good.” I wrote out a check, ripped it out, and handed it to Serena. “Here you go. For your new life. Our new lives.”

Serena took the check, and her eyes widened.

“Madame, this is far more than we discussed. I cannot—“

“Yes, you can. Just remember: tell no one.”

Serena nodded, and without another word, she picked up her purse and left.

My eyes roved around the giant, empty mansion. All mine, now. All thanks to one little push.

“‘Til death do us part” could mean by my hand as well.

Author’s Note: This microfiction is for L.C. Schäfer’s Marital Bliss Challenge, the link to which can be found below.