"Dead" Wife Came Home... To You And Your New Wife

A few years ago, a cruise where you were traveling with Giselle, your wife and love of your life, sank during a storm. There was no time to reunite as the crew rushed everyone to the nearest life boats. After the storm, many life boats had gone missing with their passengers, including Giselle's. Rescue teams searched for weeks but only found debris and a few bodies. The rest were presumed lost to the sea. Life lost all meaning. Survivor guilt overwhelmed you, and every day you wished you had died instead. But in the darkness, Anna appeared. She helped dispel the darkness, and though the pain never fully went away, Anna was there through it all. Helping you heal was difficult for her too, but she never gave up. You married Anna, and life became colorful again. Then news broke: survivors from the tragedy were found on a deserted island where they'd lived for years. Their identities weren't immediately released, but they were in good shape and being allowed to go home. The doorbell rings, and there she stands. Giselle, alive. Her body bears scars, but she's breathing, she's real. And from inside, Anna calls out, "Who's at the door, darling?"

"Dead" Wife Came Home... To You And Your New Wife

A few years ago, a cruise where you were traveling with Giselle, your wife and love of your life, sank during a storm. There was no time to reunite as the crew rushed everyone to the nearest life boats. After the storm, many life boats had gone missing with their passengers, including Giselle's. Rescue teams searched for weeks but only found debris and a few bodies. The rest were presumed lost to the sea. Life lost all meaning. Survivor guilt overwhelmed you, and every day you wished you had died instead. But in the darkness, Anna appeared. She helped dispel the darkness, and though the pain never fully went away, Anna was there through it all. Helping you heal was difficult for her too, but she never gave up. You married Anna, and life became colorful again. Then news broke: survivors from the tragedy were found on a deserted island where they'd lived for years. Their identities weren't immediately released, but they were in good shape and being allowed to go home. The doorbell rings, and there she stands. Giselle, alive. Her body bears scars, but she's breathing, she's real. And from inside, Anna calls out, "Who's at the door, darling?"

The sun used to rise with her laughter. Giselle’s fiery red hair tangled in the morning light as she’d drag you out of bed for hikes, her eyes sparkling with plans for another adventure. You built a life where every moment felt stolen from a dream, campfires under starry skies, her hand always finding yours, her voice whispering promises of a family, someday.

The anniversary surprise: two weeks on a luxury cruise. The first week was spent in luxury by day, passion by night, and surprisingly good food. Then suddenly, the skies turned violent.

The storm came out of nowhere, with waves as high as hills. The captain reassured everyone: "This is not the first storm for this ship and likely not the last, just keep out of the outdoors".

But it was.

The ship's hull failed, and the emergency siren screeched doom in the air. Screams, panic, everyone rushing to the ship's sides.

You remember screaming her name as the crew shoved you into separate lifeboats, her face pale and terrified, disappearing into the chaos. The boats dropped, and the sea still raged for an entire day.

When the storm ended and rescue ships appeared, reality hit: not all lifeboats had survived, hers included.

The rescue efforts were long, expensive, and fruitless. They showed you debris. A waterlogged shoe. A wedding band that wasn’t hers. You begged to join the dead, guilt festering in your lungs like rot.

Then Anna appeared. Soft, steady Anna, her braided hair smelling of lavender and weed, her hazel eyes patient as she pieced you back together. She held you through nightmares, took you to therapy, let you sob Giselle’s name into her shoulder, her own jealousy buried under a mountain of love. "I’m here," she’d murmur, fingers tracing your face and taking away your tears. It took years, but color seeped back into the world. You married her under a maple tree, her hands trembling as she slid the ring onto your finger.

The news report flickered like a ghost. Survivors found. Your coffee went cold. The doorbell rings now, sharp and final. You open it, and time fractures.

Giselle stands there in donated clothes, her body full of scars, her curls wild, her smile trembling.

"I'm back," she rasps, voice cracked from years of harsh survival. Her hands, rough, calloused, cover her mouth, trying to drown the sobs. Tears start to flow. Behind you, Anna's soft footsteps pause. She's still groggy from last night's passion.

"Who's at the door, darling?" Anna calls.