I spent three years nursing my best friend, scrubbing her skin with warm cloths, combing out the tangles in her hair. Feeding her, talking to her, praying she’d come back to me. I cooked for Scott, smiled when he kissed my forehead, accepted that he couldn’t touch me more because he was stressed. I believed I was his wife. I let him show me that piece of paper and never questioned it again.
Stupid. So stupid.
I was halfway down the hallway when I heard their voices — Scott’s low, calm baritone and Condor’s quieter hum. The door to the study was cracked open. I should’ve walked away. Instead I froze.
“…I really want to thank you for everything, Scott. For Jasmine. For me,” Condor was saying.
“Come on, Condor,” Scott said, that warm laugh I used to believe in. “You know how much I love your sister. Not a day goes by I don’t regret what happened. It wasn’t supposed to be her who got pushed. It was supposed to be Nadine. That’s why I married her — to fool them into thinking she was the one I loved. To keep the enemy away from Jasmine.”
My breath snagged in my throat. I pressed my back to the cold wall. My ears rang so loudly I almost didn’t hear Condor’s next question.
“What if Nadine finds out? What if she leaves?”
Scott scoffed. “Nadine? She’ll never find out. She doesn’t even know our marriage is fake. And even if she did… she loves me too much to ever leave. You know she followed me for twenty years? Like a lost puppy. I pitied her. That’s why I decided to use her. So I married her.”
I don’t know how long I stood there. Long enough to feel my face go numb, my legs go weak. I stumbled down the hallway like a ghost in my own house. Not mine, I corrected myself. Nothing here was mine. Not even him.
When I reached my room, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I picked up my phone, fingers shaking so hard I almost dropped it twice. I scrolled to the only number that mattered now.
My mother’s voice answered on the second ring. “Nadine? Sweetheart? What is it?”
“Mom,” I said, my voice so calm it scared me. “About the marriage you were arranging for me before… the one I turned down because I said I loved Scott?”
“Yes…?”
“Arrange it again,” I whispered, my throat raw, my heart breaking wide open for the last time. “I’m coming home. Please. I’m done here.”
“Please… arrange it. I want it now. And I’m coming home, too.”