He pursued me openly and passionately, like a man determined to win. The story of a gentle CEO falling for an ordinary girl was a cliché, but what fresh college graduate could resist? I certainly couldn’t.
Six months later, we were married.
Using work as his excuse, Vernon kept postponing our wedding ceremony, time and time again. After we were married, he took me to countless cosmetic procedures. At first, I thought it was just to help me look better.
After all, in our world, a stunning wife was a statement of status.
But it wasn’t until Riley arrived last year that I learned the truth.
"You think Vernon married you out of love?"
In my dream, Riley looked at me with pure contempt, her eyes cold and mocking.
"He married you because you have the exact same eyebrows and eyes as his first love."
"All those cosmetic procedures were just to make you look even more like that dead woman."
"But me? I was born with this face. You lost, Eloise Howard."
"You don’t even deserve to be a stand-in!"
Riley’s twisted, grotesque face grew closer and closer, her words sinking in like poison.
I screamed, the horror gripping me, and then... I woke up!
"You’re awake?"
Vernon sat by the hospital bed, his eyes bloodshot, his voice soft with something that could have been a worry.
"Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?"
His tone was thick with grievance, blame, regret, and maybe a flicker of concern. But I couldn’t trust it. How could he care?
If he truly cared, he wouldn’t have ignored everything Riley had done to me.
"I didn’t even know myself. How was I supposed to tell you?" I replied, my voice hollow, the fading hope in my eyes betraying me.
"Your period hasn’t come for months, and you didn’t think to take a test?"
“Hmph, you should ask Riley about that. How long has it been since she last let me leave the house?”
I turned my gaze away from Vernon.
“Since neither of you can stand me, let’s just get a divorce, Vernon.”
“I’ve had enough of Riley’s humiliations and your cold indifference these past months.”
“You can leave, but I’m not agreeing to a divorce.”
“Rest up. I’ll come check on you later.”
With that, Vernon stood and walked out.
At the door, he stopped and threw me one last line.
“Eloise, don’t be sad. We’ll have another child someday.”
I said nothing.
There would be no future for us.
That night, Vernon returned, a bowl of nourishing soup in his hands.