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The year I was sixteen, our house caught fire, and it was my best friend, Serena Quinn, who ran into the flames to save me.
The day I found out Samuel Simmons was cheating, I was ready to kill myself.
It was Serena who snatched up the ashtray and forced him to his knees to beg my forgiveness.
Under her watch, Samuel got himself in line.
He handed over his paycheck card. He even had to check in before going downstairs for a pack of cigarettes.
I thought our marriage had been given a fresh start.
Until a video call came in from my own self, eight years in the future.
Looking at the gaunt woman on the screen, I asked,
"Do Samuel and I have a child?"
She tugged at the corner of her mouth and sent a photo.
In it, Samuel had Serena pinned against the vanity.
Both their eyes were glazed, their skin flushed red.
"That mistress is Serena."
"Eight years. Samuel has come to hate you."
"Because of you, the two of them can't be together in the open."
Cold spread through my whole body.
The mistress I could never track down turned out to be the best friend who once risked her life for me.
The me from eight years ahead leaned close to the screen and smiled in pure despair.
"As long as you're alive, you're keeping two lovers apart."
"Let them have each other, and let yourself go too."
...
I watched the phone screen slowly go dark.
I gripped the pill bottle, my hand shaking hard.
I shook out a fistful of pills and was about to swallow them when the bedroom door slammed open.
Samuel rushed in and knocked the bottle clean out of my hand.
Pills scattered across the floor.
"Have you lost your mind? Why would you do something so stupid?"
His eyes were rimmed red as he pulled me into his arms.
Before all this, I would have collapsed against him in tears, grateful that my husband still cared.
But now, I felt it clearly.
The instant he held me, there was a sigh, one he was trying to smother, thin with impatience.
"Why would you want to die? Are you giving up on me?"
Quick footsteps came from the top of the stairs.
Serena rushed into the bedroom, out of breath.
She saw the pills all over the floor, her eyes red, and lunged forward.
Seeing the pills, she raised her hand and slapped Samuel across the face.
Crack!
"Is this how you kept your promise? You said you'd stay by her side every second!"
"Samuel, if anything happens to Bren, I will make you pay with your life!"
Samuel's head snapped to the side from the blow.
He lowered his head, his voice hoarse.
"I'm sorry. I didn't watch her closely enough."
Serena shoved him away and pulled me into her arms.
"Don't be scared, Bren. Rena's here. Rena will protect you."
She wept, tears streaming down her face.
At sixteen, this was exactly how she'd held me right after I escaped the fire.
I used to think it was the warmest embrace in the world.
Now it only made me sick.
I lowered my eyes and saw the red mark below the collar of her nightgown.
The kind of kiss mark Samuel most loved to leave.
"I'm fine."
I pressed down the trembling and spoke calmly.
"It was just the medication taking effect. I hallucinated."
Serena let out a long breath and stroked my cheek.
"No. I can't leave you like this."
"From today on, I'm moving in to stay with you."
Samuel nodded at once.
"Good. With you here, I can go handle some things without worrying."
I watched the two of them play off each other.
It felt like something had been torn open in my chest.
Pain, then numbness.
I gave a dull nod.
Late that night, Serena came into the bedroom carrying a glass of warm water.
"Bren, time for your medicine."
She opened her palm, showing a few pills.
"These are the special ones Sam had someone bring back from overseas. They really help with your depression."
I took the pills and tipped my head back to swallow them.
"Good girl."
She ruffled my hair, tucked the blanket around me, and turned off the light as she left.
The lock clicked softly.
I rushed straight into the bathroom and jammed my fingers down my throat, gagging.
The pills, still whole, came up into the sink.
The me from the future had said Samuel's secrets were all on the backup phone in the study.
Barefoot, avoiding the cameras in the living room, I felt my way into the study and dug the phone out of the very bottom of the drawer.
I typed in Serena's birthday.
Wrong password.
I paused, then typed the date they first met.
The screen unlocked.
I opened the photos.
The first image was a downtown riverfront penthouse.
Below it, a piece of surveillance footage.
I tapped the video.
In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, Samuel had Serena pinned to the glass, kissing her neck without a shred of restraint.
His usually neat hair was a mess.
This man, who disinfected even a cup after I'd used it, looked like someone else entirely.
The time stamp in the top corner was from last night, right after I'd taken the medicine and fallen unconscious.
"Sam... Bren's still in the house..."
Serena's voice came through the footage, breathy and soft.
"Don't bring up that lunatic."
"If I weren't afraid she'd pull some suicide stunt and tank the company's stock price, I'd have been done with her long ago."
I watched it all the way through, calm, without a single tear.
I backed out of the footage and kept scrolling.
At the very end of the album was a yellowed receipt.
The payee was Starbright Talent Agency.
The note in the memo field read:
County clerk's office set dressing and hired extras, fifty thousand dollars.
The date signed was the day we got our marriage certificate.
I stared at the photo, and something in me wanted to laugh.
So from beginning to end.
I had never even been his wife in name.
