She turned her monitor slightly toward me, her voice soft. “Our records show that he’s legally married to someone named Livia Reyes.”
The air seemed to leave my lungs all at once. My hands shook so badly I had to grip the counter to stay upright. Suddenly, everything became clear—the way she defended him whenever I complained, the strange pity in her eyes when I praised him, the fact that she never missed a single anniversary dinner.
I walked out of that office feeling numb, like a ghost drifting through someone else’s life. Five years had been built on lies—every “I love you,” every promise, every kiss.
That night, rain tapped softly against my window. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection. The woman in the mirror looked calm, but her eyes had turned cold and sharp.
I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found a number I hadn’t called in years.
“Hello, Mr. Gabriel Smith? It’s Veronica,” I said quietly, steady despite the trembling in my chest. “I heard you might be looking for a wife. Would you consider marrying me?”