My Husband Hid His Mistress in a Suitcase; I Disposed of It

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1: 1

My husband was sleeping with an intern at his company, and he actually smuggled her home inside a suitcase to make it a game.

I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night, got up for water, and walked straight into their affair.

When I stepped forward to confront them, my husband accidentally shoved me out the window. I fell from the twelfth floor and died on the spot.

Then he took my inheritance and married the intern.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband came home dragging that suitcase.

"Everything in here is hazardous material that needs disposal. It's dangerous, so whatever you do, don't touch it!"

I nodded. Then, the moment he left the apartment, I turned around and loaded the suitcase onto the garbage truck.

The worker asked me, "What's in here? Why's it so heavy?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Hazardous waste. Just take it straight to disposal."

Watching Horace Dickerson haul that familiar case back through the door, I understood I'd been reborn.

Before I could say anything, Horace was already warning me.

"Don't you dare touch this case."

Last time he'd said the same thing, and I hadn't questioned it. I just assumed it was something for his work.

Now, looking at that absurdly oversized suitcase, I only felt how laughably naive I'd been.

That intern, Darlene Malone, was inside it right now.

My nails dug crescents into my palm as I forced out a smile.

"Why can't I touch it? What's in there?"

As I spoke, I reached out as if to "help" him pull it along.

Horace shoved me off, his tone turning irritated.

"I said don't touch it. Can't you understand plain words?"

"There's hazardous material inside. The second it hits the light it releases toxins, and one breath will kill you!"

"I'll take it away and deal with it later. It's none of your business."

Hazardous material? Not wrong there.

I was sneering on the inside, but I put a frightened look on my face and backed well away.

"Why would you bring something that dangerous home? What if it leaked by accident?"

Seeing that I'd bought it, Horace even looked smug.

"Relax, I can handle it."

"You just stay out of it."

He leaned hard on the word handle, and he quietly nudged the case with his foot.

The case rocked twice on the floor, as if someone inside were fighting with everything they had to hold in a laugh.

My gaze went cold in an instant.

Bringing someone home to have his affair and chase a thrill. So I was just another part of his little game.

The pain of bone slamming into the ground last time spread through my whole body.

I lifted my head and looked at Horace.

"Then you'd better take good care of 'it.'"

Horace broke into his first big grin since walking in, whistling as he pulled the suitcase into the study.

That night, I pretended to be asleep.

Before long, Horace got up beside me and crept out on tiptoe.

The study light came on.

Following the light spilling through the gap in the door, I walked barefoot to the study doorway.

2: 2

I stood flat against the wall, careful even with my breathing.

Darlene Malone's coy complaint carried down the hall.

You're awful, coming this late. I was about to die of boredom in there.

Horace laughed. You're the one who wanted a thrill. Well? Was it worth it?

Darlene pouted. How could I have any fun without you here?

In my last life, I'd gotten up for water in the middle of the night and seen the light on in the study.

When I got closer, I heard them flirting.

My mind went blank. I pushed the door open, and there they were, Darlene and Horace, naked and tangled together.

I fell apart, lunging at them, clawing and demanding answers. Horace kept saying he wanted to explain, and all the while he was steering me toward the window.

Then he spun around behind me and shoved me off the building.

Afterward, Horace paid off some corrupt doctor to fake a diagnosis of severe depression, and claimed I'd killed myself over it.

My fists clenched so hard the memory of my bones breaking woke again, and I couldn't stop the shaking that ran through me.

Their voices drifted back.

You know how to have fun, at least. That woman Lucy is like a block of wood. Ask her to go along with anything and she acts like it's beneath her.

If I weren't reluctant to lose her money, I'd have dumped her ages ago.

If it's really about the money, why don't you just drug her? Aren't there those overseas ones they can't trace?

I've been dosing her for half a damn year. That dead weight hasn't reacted at all. Probably got sold a fake.

And I saw on the news they can detect that stuff now too, so I don't dare keep at it.

Horace had been drugging me for half a year?

My head snapped around, and I saw the supplements sitting on the coffee table.

Horace had said he'd had them custom-made for me from overseas, that they were good for my skin.

But I've always distrusted supplements, sure they'd wreck my body, so I never took them.

I only pretended to drink them every day so Horace wouldn't be disappointed.

So that had been the poison he'd prepared for me all along.

Darlene's voice came again, sulking.

So when do I get to be the real thing?

I'm telling you, I don't have the patience to wait. Plenty of men would marry me.

Horace gave a nasty little chuckle. Relax. I've got a doctor lined up who'll write Lucy a depression diagnosis. I'm going to see him tomorrow.

So what?

So what? Look at the windows in this place. The sills don't even reach your knee.

If you were standing by the window and I gave you a push from behind, what do you think would happen?

The air went quiet for a beat, then came their smug laughter.

Every hair on my body stood up.

So it wasn't because I'd caught them together last life that he pushed me off the building.

He'd already meant to push me off.

I'd just walked in on them by chance and caught him off guard, before he'd even gotten the diagnosis in order.

I went back to bed, eyes shut, my mind turning it over and over.

After a long while Horace crept back in, saw me still asleep, and gave a contemptuous little snort.

3: 3

Tomorrow Horace would go get the fake diagnosis from the doctor.

When he left, he would take the suitcase with him.

I knew his whole plan now. He wouldn't get another chance to touch me.

But what was I supposed to do? Divorce him?

The sound of a body slamming into the ground kept echoing in my ears, splitting my head open.

Why should I.

I would never let them off that easy.

Horace must have worn himself out, because before long a window-rattling snore filled the room.

I checked the time. Four in the morning.

He'd set the meeting with the doctor for seven-thirty. He'd said the doctor warned him he absolutely couldn't be late, because once the crowd came in there'd be no way to forge the diagnosis for him.

I slipped out of bed and pulled the bedroom door shut behind me.

I dragged the clothes and shoes out of the walk-in closet and piled them across the living room, then threw the sofa covers and cushions onto the floor too.

Scraps and trash from the kitchen, the seasonings, the rice and flour, the fruit and vegetables from the fridge, I hauled all of it over.

Last, I went to the study, ignored the suitcase completely, and started carrying the books straight off the shelves.

I looked at the stuffed-full living room, then went downstairs to the dumpster and dug out a few bags of garbage.

I opened them and dumped everything on the floor.

A sharp stench drifted through the living room.

Once I had it all just right, I put on a mask and sat down in the middle of the pile of garbage.

At six-thirty, the bedroom door opened.

Horace stumbled out half-asleep, saw the trash all over the floor, and his eyes shot wide.

"Lucy! What are you doing!"

"God, why does it reek like this? Did you go take a bath in a dumpster?"

I wiped the sweat off my forehead.

"I woke up early and couldn't fall back asleep, so I figured I'd give the place a deep clean."

"I was going to bring the trash can over and dump everything in it, but I spilled it all over the floor by accident. Honey, garbage really goes bad fast in the summer, doesn't it"

Horace's brow knotted. He glanced toward the path from the study to the front door.

It was completely blocked now.

To get the suitcase out, he'd have to lift it up and carry it.

But the garbage was piled high, and in some spots he'd have to hoist it a good foot off the floor to clear it.

A hundred-plus pounds. There was no way he could carry that.

Horace lost his temper.

"You've turned the place into this, and now I can't even get my suitcase out!"

I blinked at him, all innocence. "You're taking the suitcase out today? I had no idea."

"Honey, why don't you help me clean up? We can definitely have it done before noon."

Horace looked at his watch and waved a furious hand.

"I don't have time. I have to be out the door by seven, and I've got ten minutes left!"

I nodded. "Then you go on ahead. I'll have it cleaned up by the time you're back."

"Or, why don't you call a garbage truck for me? It'll go faster if the workers help handle it."

Horace nodded, his face dark, and pulled out his phone.

"Hi, Brookside Gardens, Building 10, unit 1002. I've got a big pile of garbage that needs emergency pickup. Please come as soon as you can!"

I tilted my head at him. "Why don't you take a look and see if there's anything you want to keep?"

Horace snapped, impatient. "It stinks. Let the workers haul all of it away. Don't keep a single thing!"

I smiled softly.

That was exactly the line I'd been waiting for.

4: 4

Horace pinched his nose and yanked the front door open.

"Losing your mind first thing in the morning. There goes my good mood, all because of you!"

Gone, just like that?

But the real show hasn't even started yet.

The door slammed shut behind him.

I pulled off the gloves and mask and stood up out of the pile of trash.

I walked to the study doorway, leaned against the frame, and stared hard at that suitcase.

Snoring drifted out of it, one breath after another.

In my last life, when Horace pushed me off the building, Darlene had leaned out of the window and waved at me.

"Bye-bye, old hag~"

Darlene, I bet you never guessed. Right now, in this apartment, it's just you and me.

The doorbell rang.

The two workers stared at the mess scattered across the floor, stunned.

"All of this... is being thrown out?"

I nodded. "My husband said not to keep anything. Just haul it all away."

The workers went back and forth several times.

The path from the study to the front door was finally clear.

I walked into the study and pulled up the suitcase handle.

Darlene's voice came faintly from inside.

"Honey, are you taking me out now?"

I hushed her, and she went quiet.

I dragged the suitcase into the elevator and down to the garbage truck out front.

The truck's speaker was blasting music, cut through by a woman's recorded voice reading the ad:

"Trash pickup? Call Cortech. Cortech Inc., professional disposal of all kinds of waste."

The worker came out with the last load from my place, looked at the suitcase in my hand, and called over:

"Ma'am, that's a nice case. You want it gone too?"

I nodded.

"There's hazardous material inside. Careful you don't get poisoned. Just have it disposed of."

"Whatever you do, don't open it. My husband said the stuff inside releases toxic gas the second it hits the light."

The worker nodded, waved the other man over to help him lift it, and tossed it into the truck.

As the case dropped into the back, I thought I heard a woman scream.

Maybe it was just the ad playing. I couldn't really tell.

I went back home, mopped the floor, and used an anonymous SIM card to contact a troll farm overseas.

Once everything was arranged, I settled onto the couch with a book.

At nine, the door lock beeped.

Horace stepped inside, humming, the corner of his mouth curled up.

I glanced up at him.

"Why so happy?"

Horace gave a knowing little smile. "About to get rid of a big headache. Of course I'm happy."

"Is that so? Congratulations, then."

I lowered my head and went back to my book.

Horace made straight for the study, a bounce in every step.

The moment he pushed the door open, the humming cut off.

He rushed in, searched the whole room, and found nothing.

"Lucy! Where's my case? What did you do with my case?"

Horace ran over to the couch, sweat all over his forehead.

I picked up my coffee and took a slow sip.

"You mean that case with the hazardous material inside?"

"I had the garbage truck take it away. Disposed of it."