She Was His First Love, I Was Just the Stand-In

The day before my due date, my husband Jesse Gilbert left a divorce agreement on the table and went back to his first love, Effie Simmons.

I hemorrhaged on the operating table and nearly died. The baby didn't make it.

It was my childhood friend Mark James who stayed by my side and helped me crawl out of the darkness.

One week before our wedding, I came home early to surprise him, only to overhear his phone call with a friend.

The voice on the other end said：

"Didn't you only get with Noreen Thomas because of Effie Simmons? You're really going through with the wedding?"

He was standing with his back to the light. I couldn't see his face. All I heard was a long, heavy silence.

"I finish what I start. That's always been my rule."

The friend laughed： "Wait, don't tell me you actually fell for Noreen?"

"You're a grown man. If you love her, just admit it."

"Honestly, bro, Noreen's way better than that Effie chick."

Mark let out a quiet laugh.

"Sure, whatever you say. Just get here early the day before the wedding to help out. Noreen's health isn't great, so I need you guys to help me set up."

The call ended. The apartment fell silent.

I must have been crouching too long. My whole body had gone numb, and my hands were shaking beyond my control.

I choked everything down and called my brother with trembling fingers.

"Landon Thomas, book me a one-way ticket to London. As soon as possible."

……

The second I killed the screen, Mark pushed open the study door.

"Noreen, you're back already?"

He froze for a beat, then recovered just as quickly.

I braced myself against the wall and stood, forcing a smile onto my face.

"Dinner wrapped up early. I brought you some soup. You've been working so hard on the wedding."

"Legs fall asleep?"

He pulled me down onto the couch and knelt to massage my calves, easy and natural, like he'd done it a hundred times before.

His fingertips were the same temperature they'd always been, but now every point of contact stung like a needle pressing into my skin.

My heart lurched. I caught his wrist and stopped him.

"I'm fine, really. Go drink your soup while it's hot."

Mark pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his smile soft and indulgent.

"Okay. Thanks, wifey."

He had barely opened the container when his phone rang.

I watched him frown, so slight it was almost invisible. He hesitated, then answered.

"Hey, Effie."

His voice softened without him even realizing it, the crease between his brows smoothing out, his whole posture loosening.

I couldn't hear what she said, but halfway through the call he glanced at me, and there it was: a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

"Sure, I'll have my assistant send you the address. You can come by early tomorrow."

He hung up and turned to me, keeping his tone deliberately casual.

"Noreen, Effie's back in the country. She wants to come to the wedding. She's suggesting we all grab dinner tomorrow first."

A roar filled my ears. Something seized my heart and squeezed, sharp and merciless.

The heater was on full blast, but cold seeped up from somewhere deep inside my bones.

I had known Mark James for over thirteen years, and in this moment he felt like a complete stranger.

He knew I couldn't stand Effie Simmons. He knew she was the reason I'd lost my baby. He knew this would tear me apart.

And still, he'd invited her to my wedding, to watch the very charade she had set in motion.

His devotion was a lie. His love was a lie.

What I'd believed was my salvation turned out to be just another abyss.

The corner of my mouth curled in a bitter, self-mocking arc. I forced the tears back before they could fall.

"Sure,"

I heard my own voice, so light it could have floated away,

"let her come. The more the merrier."

Mark visibly relaxed, reaching over to pinch my cheek：