My Husband's Mistress Wanted Me Dead, So I Let Her Have Her Way

When I was seven weeks pregnant, my husband, Jacob, seated his mistress and their secret son at the head table of our anniversary dinner.

In front of everyone, he said, "Ella hasn't given me a child in four years. Why should I keep waiting?" His mistress was already tired of waiting to take my place.

So I gave them what they wanted. I faked my death in the car crash his mistress had planned and walked away.

Then why was Jacob searching the crash site like a madman? When he pulled my waterlogged prenatal report from the sunken car, he dropped to his knees by the river and sobbed for me to come back.

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Clara, my husband Jacob's secretary, wanted me dead.

The day before our wedding anniversary, I went to Jacob's hotel to deliver some documents. In the conference room, I found the phone Clara had left behind.

A message to a mechanic filled the screen: "Cut Ella's brake line tomorrow night."

The next one read: "She takes the riverside road home. Once the car goes into the river, make sure she doesn't get out."

The conversation included the time I drove home every day, photos of a bend in the riverside road, and proof of the money Clara had paid the mechanic. She planned to do it after our anniversary dinner.

I photographed the two messages, ran into the restroom, and threw up.

There was a report from my prenatal checkup in my purse. I was seven weeks pregnant, and I had planned to tell Jacob the next night.

I shoved the report back into my purse and went to find Jacob with the messages that proved Clara had hired someone to kill me. I only wanted to see my husband as soon as possible, show him what was on the phone, and get away from there with him.

Jacob wasn't in his office. His assistant said he had taken Clara home to prepare for our anniversary dinner.

I called him six times.

On the sixth call, he finally answered. "I'm busy. Whatever it is, tell me tomorrow night."

I had barely said his name when he hung up.

The next evening, I walked into our anniversary dinner.

Clara's murder-for-hire messages were saved on my phone, and the prenatal report was in my purse. I had come to make Jacob see what Clara had done and take me away from her.

Jacob sat in the middle of the head table. Clara sat to his right with a three-year-old boy in her arms.

As soon as I approached, the boy wrapped his arms around Jacob's neck and called, "Daddy."

Jacob smiled and picked him up.

"Everyone, this is the son Clara and I share."

The boy was three. Jacob and I had been married for four years. He had fathered a child with Clara during the second year of our marriage.

Everyone turned to look at me.

Through my purse, I touched the prenatal report. My grip creased the paper.

Someone quietly asked Jacob, "What about Ella?"

Jacob raised his glass and answered in front of me.

"She hasn't given me a child in four years. Why should I keep waiting?"

Clara smiled.

Jacob lowered his head and kissed her in front of everyone.

Clara wrapped her arms around his neck and deliberately made the kiss last. Their three-year-old son sat between them.

A few awkward laughs came from the guests around us. I stood there with pain closing my throat, unable to say a word.

Jacob held the boy while Clara linked her arm through his. The three of them sat at the center of the head table and accepted everyone's congratulations.

I put the prenatal report back in my purse, turned around, and left the dinner.

At the door, I heard Jacob urging the guests to keep drinking. He didn't call my name. He didn't come after me.

I walked into the parking lot and called my friend Mary. She owned an auto repair shop and soon arrived in a tow truck.

Mary slid beneath my car and climbed back out moments later.

"The brake line has been cut." She grabbed my hand. "I'm calling the police right now."

I looked at the brightly lit banquet hall. Jacob still hadn't come outside.

"Mary, don't call them yet."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Fix the car first." I sent her the photos of the messages. "Jacob held her son and kissed her in front of everyone. When I left, he didn't even turn his head. Let them think I'm dead."

Mary stared at me for several seconds. "What are you planning to do?"

"Let's go to the river first."

I drove away from the hotel with Mary following close behind.

At 11:07 p.m., my car smashed through the guardrail on the bend in the riverside road and plunged into the river.

Black water rose over the windows. The headlights quickly went dark.

My phone, my wedding ring, and the gift box holding my prenatal report all sank beneath the water.

Seconds later, my phone lit up underwater.

Caller: Jacob.