The End Justifies the Means

Someone might call it a scam. I call it resourcefulness. It's weird, watching the police fish your dirty clothes out of a lake. They will search for a body, but find nothing. And my poor wife will cry and pray, and everyone will console her.

It wasn't so simple, though. I had to remember every single detail of my fake death. One wrong step and they will find out, and I will be fucked. We will be fucked. My wife will join me once the insurance payout goes through. Because of course she knows. It was her idea after all.