You Only Love Me Because I Look Like Her

It was late at night when my husband, who knew I was three months pregnant, demanded I put on a sexy white shirt and meet him at a hotel.

When I got there, I was shoved to the ground by one of his obsessed fans, and my blood gushed everywhere.

By the time I made it to the hospital, I'd already lost my baby—and my womb.

Later, I found out the truth. He'd been caught hooking up with his precious first love in that hotel. He only sent me there to take the fall.

That was when I finally got it—I was nothing more than her substitute.

I was so done that I erased every trace of myself and ran away without looking back.

And somehow, that made him lose his mind.

——

I'd been married to Keith Cyrus for a year.

It wasn't until yesterday that it hit me—he never actually loved me. I was just a substitute for his real love Chrisley Kidman.

Just because I look like her.

Chrisley, the darling of the entertainment industry, is riding the peak of her career. She's under a strict three-year contract that forbids her from dating, so Keith married me instead.

That way, if the paparazzi ever caught wind of his secret affair, he could just use me as a cover-up.

I'd been such a fool. God, I even carried his kid.

I didn't know the truth until I found out.

I was stupid for believing that carrying his child meant I won over women out there who were obsessed with this guy.

A week after my miscarriage, Keith finally came home. He didn't even know what had happened that day.

"Babe," he said, pushing open the door. He spotted me sitting in the rocking chair on the balcony, and that same fake smile spread across his face.

I quickly wiped away my tears. I didn't want to fight. My heart was already dead.

When I didn't jump up to greet him like usual, he froze for a second, then crouched down beside me with that practiced tenderness.

"Are you mad?" he asked. "I had to go out of town for work at the last minute. But look—I rushed back as soon as I was done."

He slipped a fancy gift box into my hands. "Open it. Tell me if you like it."

Inside was a Cartier necklace worth more than I could count.

I couldn't even remember how many expensive gifts he'd given me by now. Bracelets, necklaces—my jewelry box was overflowing.

But never a ring. Not even a wedding band.

I forced a smile and took the necklace without a word. Looking back, I realize every gift was probably his way of apologizing every time he came back to me from his date with his first love.

"I'll take a shower first," he said, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "We haven't slept together for a week. Bet you've been missing me, huh?"

As soon as he shut the bathroom door, the sound of running water filled the room.

My eyes drifted to the phone he'd left on the coffee table.

I'd never touched his phone before. I thought not snooping was part of trusting someone.

But right then, I couldn't stop myself.

I picked it up and tried unlocking it with his birthday as the PIN code. Wrong pin. My birthday? Still no.

Then I tried Chrisley's birthday.

I only knew it by accident. Last year, on her birthday, he came home drunk, clinging to me and whispering her name into my ear.

When I confronted him, he said he'd just had too much to drink at her birthday party and told me not to overthink it.

I believed him and took care of him all night.

But thinking about it now? God, I was such an idiot.