A man answered her—his voice calm, unashamed. “I did what I had to do. I want Delilah. That’s all that matters.”
Lucinda gasped. “Delilah? After she walked out on you five years ago? You faked your own death for the woman who abandoned you—and left the one who stayed? What is wrong with you?”
My vision blurred.
Delilah wasn’t just his lost love. She was my best friend. The girl who had left town chasing dreams, leaving Nathaniel broken. I was the one who stood beside him when he hit rock bottom, the one who helped him rebuild. Somewhere along the way, care turned into closeness, and closeness into marriage. Or so I believed.
“I’m not crazy,” he replied. “This is what love feels like. Eleanor was only ever filling a gap. I never loved her. When Delilah came back last year, everything changed. She’s pregnant now. So I disappeared. And now I’ll stay near Eleanor as Harold. It’s the only way.”
I felt as if the floor had vanished beneath my feet.
My husband was alive.
My child had been stolen.
And I was nothing more than a placeholder in the story of his life.
I staggered back to the table before they could see me, my hands shaking so badly I had to grip the edge of the chair to stay upright. The rest of the evening passed in a blur I don’t remember.
When I finally made it home, I locked myself in my bedroom and collapsed against the pillows, sobbing until my throat burned. His words kept echoing in my head—just filling a gap—over and over, until I couldn’t tell if I was screaming or crying.
I don’t know how much time passed before I heard the door creak open.
“Eleanor?”
The mattress dipped. A familiar warmth brushed my back, carrying a scent I hadn’t realized I still remembered—cedar and aviation fuel.
“It’s me,” the man said gently. “Harold. I came back to pay my respects since I missed the funeral. Mom told me you’ve been struggling. I’ll stay with you for a while. You won’t be alone anymore.”
I turned slowly.
It was him.
Same face. Same eyes. Same mouth that had once whispered vows to me.
He gave a soft, awkward smile. “I know it must be hard seeing me. People say we were identical. But we’ll make this work. We can still be a family.”
A family.
With the man who had erased himself to start another life.
Yet even as fury clawed at my chest, something weaker—lonelier—rose beneath it. The echo of the love I thought we shared.