My husband wanted to kill me to get insurance.

On my fortieth birthday, my frugal husband purchased a life insurance policy for me, covering up to 10 million dollars.

He explained, "Honey, since you're pregnant, we need to ensure the unborn child is protected. If anything happens to you, this insurance will safeguard his future."

However, this unexpected "gift" left me feeling uneasy, and we ended up in a heated argument over it. I posted the incident on twitter.

One comment caught my attention.

It was a screenshot of a post, and the content gave me chills.

[My wife is 40, and I'm buying her a high-cost insurance policy, betting on an accident during a risky birth.]

[It's my compensation for my youth! And security for boys!]

*****

I found the link to the original post shared by that user and saw it was updated just one minute ago.

[Friends, not only did that old woman refuse to sign, but she also drove me to the guest room to sleep. Who can understand my pain?]

This made my pupils shrink slightly as I glanced at the empty bed beside me.

Not long ago, I had impulsively sent Alex to the guest room after an argument.

Could it be such a coincidence?

I thought it over and decided to reply in a male tone.

[Haha, there's someone else who thinks like me. But I've got it covered. I'll teach you a trick to let her down. Prepare two insurance policies, one for you and one for her, and sign them together. That way, her risk is higher than yours, and in the end, you will benefit!]

Perhaps the poster was offline and didn't respond.

Instead, I heard a gentle knock at the bedroom door.

My husband, Alex's voice came from outside, "Ariana, I was wrong. Don't be angry, okay? I feel lonely without you. Come and hug me."

Alex and I had a big age gap. I was eight years older.

Normally, I would soften at his pout.

Unless it were a matter of principle, I would forgive him.

But this time, I found his behavior repulsive.

So, I pretended to be asleep and didn't respond.

A few minutes later, the door opened slowly.

Alex approached my bedside, sighed, tucked me in gently, and kissed my cheek.

He whispered, "Silly girl, it's okay to be annoyed with me. Why aren't you covered up? What if you catch a cold?"

As the door closed, I opened my eyes, tears welling up.

Would someone intending to harm me care if I caught a cold?

Perhaps I had misunderstood Alex.

With this feeling of guilt, I woke up early to make breakfast for Alex.

But unexpectedly, there was already visitor at home.

Noisy crackling sounds came from the kitchen, making me uneasy.

Sure enough, Alex's mother, Sarah, emerged with a bowl of steaming soup, smiling. "Ariana, you're awake! Come have some soup. I made it just for you!"

But I sensed something was off.

Sarah had always thought I wasn't good enough for her son and had often belittled me.

Why was she so attentive this time?

There must be a catch.

Sarah continued, "This secret recipe I found with great effort. Drink it. It will help you give birth to a son."

So that was it. Sarah wanted me to give birth to a son.

The bowl of soup was handed to me. It was black and gave off a terrible stench.

I tried to politely decline, but her expression soured immediately.

"You foolish girl, if you don't drink this, what if you have a daughter like you? No, you must drink this soup today!"

She reached out to force it into my mouth.

I struggled, and in the process, the boiling soup spilled on me, and the bowl shattered on the floor.

Just then, the door opened.

Alex's voice called, "Mom, Ariana, I'm back."

Sarah reacted sharply, collapsing to the ground and crying out, "I came here to care for your wife, but I'm treated like a bumpkin. She didn't even taste the soup I made and even splashed it on the floor. My life is so miserable."

Alex's face changed immediately.

Before I could explain, he slammed his briefcase to the ground and shouted, "Ariana, what's the meaning of this? Our quarrel is between us. Why take it out on my mom? You know she raised me alone with great effort, yet you still disrespect her. I regret marrying someone as evil as you!"

But when he turned to his mother, his tone softened. "Mom, Ariana is not sensible. So please don't hold it against her. Come, let me take you to your room to rest and calm down."

Sarah followed him out, still sobbing, leaving me alone in the living room.

A sharp pain shot through my arm, and I noticed my skin was red and blistered.

But Alex didn't see it.

He was so fixated on his mother that he failed to grasp the situation, blaming me entirely.

I wanted to call an ambulance, but my phone was in the bedroom. I picked up Alex's briefcase that he had thrown down, trying to use his phone.

Instead of the phone, I discovered two insurance contracts naming Alex and me as beneficiaries, each worth ten million dollars.

I stood frozen, my blood running cold.

The poster was truly Alex. He wanted me to die.