I cooked an entire dinner spread to celebrate the day I was supposed to marry my girlfriend.

Then, I called her to ask when she would be home.

However, I heard her jeering about me with her friends the moment the call connected.

"Lydia, Owen is way too easy to fool. That fake marriage certificate didn't even have an official seal, and he still bought it, believing he was your husband. We wouldn't have had to pretend to work at the City Hall if you and Trevor hadn't already gotten the real one."

Lydia let out a careless, mocking chuckle. "Husband? Please. He's just a desperate fool who follows me around like a lovesick puppy. The only he's good for is being my free live-in maid. Trevor and I grew up together. He's the one who's always mattered most to me."

My fingers tightened around the fake certificate as tears blurred my vision.

I had loved her with everything I had for five whole years.

Yet, my devotion meant nothing to her. I had never even been considered as a candidate as her future husband.

I had only been free help.

The woman I had wanted to spend my life with had never loved me at all.

Fine.

I called my childhood friend instead. "Are you free? Let's go get married."

The Marriage Certificate Was Fake

I only realized how terribly crafted Lydia's lies were after I held the real marriage certificate in my hands.

The fake one she had given me did not even have an official seal.

"Move out of that godawful house as soon as you can. I have something to deal with, so give me a few days before you actually leave."

My best friend tucked the certificate into her coat and added flatly, "It's about to rain. I arranged a car for you."

Then, she turned and got into the car without a backward glance.

I pinched the marriage certificate in my hand again before sitting down in the back seat.

It started raining cats and dogs the second I got in.

Right then, Lydia called me. "Where are you? Why aren't you home yet?"

If I hadn't found out about her lies, I would have softened my voice and tried to coax her. I would have told her to wait for me.

However, I now knew that the love she had shown me was false and that our marriage was nothing but a sham. After all those big reveals, I felt as if something inside me had withered away.

When I took too long to answer, her tone grew irritated. "I don't care where you are. Hurry up and come back. We haven't eaten yet."

She hung up before I could say anything.

I sneered, put my phone away, and returned to the place I had lived in for five years.

Sure enough, my guess was right.

I knew Trevor was there the minute Lydia mentioned the word "we" on the phone.

He was sitting on the sofa like he owned the place, tossing a fruit into his mouth like a king.

There was a large blue suitcase next to the sofa.

When Lydia saw that I had come back late, she urged me impatiently, "Get cooking. Trevor and I already bought groceries on the way back, so that saves you some trouble."

She added, "Also, Trevor's lease is up, so he'll be living here from now on. After you're done cooking, clean out the guest room for him."

Lydia's domineering behavior was even worse when she was in front of Trevor and her posse.

She loved making a show of how short my leash was.

In the beginning, she would still soften her voice and explain that she only acted that way because she cared too much about appearances.

Now, she treated my effort and patience as something she was entitled to.

My lips curled into a cold smirk, and I was about to get my shots in when Trevor interjected. It seemed that he was of the opinion that I had already given in to Lydia's whims.

He pulled an A4 sheet from his bag and handed it to me, grinning provocatively. "Owen, we'll be living together from now on. I hope we can get along peacefully. If there's no problem with this contract, sign your name. You don't want to make things hard for Lydia later, do you?"

My eyes dropped to the contract, and I scanned it briefly.

The very first clause was enough to render me speechless.

'This is Lydia's home. You have no right to stop her from sleeping with whoever she wants at night.'

Lydia's home?

That was when it hit me.

Lydia's apartment was too far from her office, and she moved in with me since I had bought a new place near her office.

She kept promising that we would move into her bigger house after we got married.

She also said we would bring my parents over to live in my place, and the two of us would take care of them together.

Her words had sounded beautiful.

Yet, not one thing she promised me had ever come true.

When Lydia saw that I still had not taken the contract, she started urging me impatiently.

Get Out of My House

Lydia frowned as if I were the one making trouble. "Trevor is only doing this for our sake. Stop being so difficult."

Then, she had the gall to speak as if she were doing me a favor, "Fine. I'll invite a few friends over. We can call it a small celebration for getting married."

I would be stuck in the kitchen for hours whenever she invited her so-called friends over.

I cooked, served, cleaned, and smiled while they treated me like some servant.

I had played the unpaid live-in maid for five years.

And now, I had had enough.

I said clearly, "No, I won't sign that contract. This is my home, so please leave."

Lydia's lips curved into a mocking smile. "Owen, do you think you can start bossing me around just because we got married?

"Trevor and I grew up together. I'm not going to abandon him even though I'm married to you."

How could she say something so shameless and make it sound perfectly reasonable?

Now that the rose-tinted glasses were off, I found her utterly repugnant.

I let out a cold laugh and shot back, "If you care about him that much, why didn't you marry him? Or maybe you already did?"

Lydia's face stiffened.

Before she could respond, Trevor suddenly spoke up. "Why isn't dinner ready yet? Lydia and I are starving."

He had just given her a way out.

She immediately forced out a dry laugh and went along with him. "Enough with the nonsense. You're just saying this because you refuse to sign the contract. Forget it. Trevor is hungry, so get started on dinner."

I could not be bothered to watch them keep playing their little game, so I turned and walked toward the bedroom.

My blood turned to ice the moment I stepped into the master bedroom.

All my things had been thrown onto the floor.

Trevor followed me in and smiled at the mess, as if he had been waiting for me to see it. "Owen, Lydia said I could sleep in the master bedroom. You don't mind, right?"

His tone was soft, but the look in his eyes was pure provocation.

Lydia came in behind him. There was no guilt on her face, only impatience.

"Trevor's health has always been frail. The master bedroom gets the best sunlight. It makes sense for him to sleep here. Pack up your things and move them to the guest room. Trevor doesn't even have anywhere to put his stuff."

I glanced at the closet filled with Trevor's clothes. Then, my eyes fell on my ruined belongings, trampled and tossed aside like trash.

The framed photo of Lydia and me had been smashed. Glass was scattered everywhere, and a sharp crack cut straight across our faces.

Something in me finally snapped.

My eyes burned as I looked up at Lydia.

For a second, her gaze shifted away.

I thought, 'So, she did feel guilty after all?'

However, that guilt disappeared the moment I swept Trevor's things off the shelf and sent them crashing to the floor.

Lydia rushed over and grabbed me hard. She yanked me back with so much force that I lost my balance and fell straight onto the broken glass.

Sharp shards cut into my palm and knees. The pain was blinding, but it still could not compare to the ache in my chest.

"What is wrong with you?" Lydia snapped. "How could you ruin Trevor's things like that? Apologize to him. Now."

She had seen the blood flowing from my palm and the glass embedded in my knees, but all she cared about was that I had touched Trevor's belongings.

I braced myself against the floor and forced myself up, little by little.

The glass sticking out of my knees looked horrifying.

I looked at her and asked, "So, his things are precious, but mine can be torn apart however you like? Lydia, I'll say this one last time. This is my home. My house. And you two had better get out. Right fucking now."

Perhaps I was trembling so much with anger that the marriage certificate slipped from my pocket and dropped to the floor.

Lydia looked at it, contempt flashing across her face. She bent to pick it up and opened it with little interest.

Before she could read it, Trevor quickly grabbed her arm. "Lydia, I'll leave if Owen doesn't want me here. He's furious right now, and I don't want things to get worse."

Lydia immediately let go of the certificate when she saw his pitiful face as she gently wiped away the tears from the corners of his eyes.

I Was Never Her Real Husband

Lydia glared at me before linking her arm with Trevor's. "You don't have to leave. If we're leaving, we're leaving together."

She led him toward the door, comforting him in a soft voice the entire way.

Before she left, she looked back and warned, "Owen, you'd better not regret this."

I did regret it.

I regretted not recognizing her true nature sooner.

I wished I hadn't waited until I was hurt over and over again before I finally saw the light. I detested myself for waiting until I had almost lost everything before finally seeing the truth.

Right now, I only found it an utter shame that she hadn't taken a look at the names written on the marriage certificate.

To be honest, I was looking forward to that.

I wanted to see Lydia's reaction when she found out I had married someone else.

Later, I took a cab to the hospital and had my wounds bandaged.

…

On the way home, Trevor sent me a message with a few photos and two lines.

The photos showed his marriage certificate with Lydia, along with a used condom discarded in the trash.

'Does your certificate even have an official seal? I'm the real spouse, so I get to sleep with her first.'

It was almost funny how childish he was acting.

I looked down at my hand that was wrapped in thick layers of bandage.

I did not bother replying.

I just removed him and blocked his number. Those who no longer deserved my attention could do as they pleased.

I lay in bed all night, but I barely slept.

The next morning, I hired a cleaning crew to clear out the house.

Before I could finish packing up Lydia's things, the front door swung open with a bang.

Lydia walked in with Trevor and a group of her friends, laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened.

The moment they saw me, they started ordering me around like I was hired help.

"Owie, we're in the mood for seafood. Go to Whole Foods and pick up a few things."

"I only eat king crab. And if you're getting fish, make it sea bass."

"Owie can afford it, no? After all, he never fails to serve us the best food there is whenever we drop by."

"Of course. Owie loves Lydia so much. Lucky us, right?"

I looked at their entitled faces and finally saw them for what they were.

They used Lydia's name as it gave them permission to treat my home like their own.

Even the seemingly friendly nickname "Owie" suddenly felt disgusting.

The first time they called me that, I had stupidly asked why they were using a nickname.

They laughed and told me it was because I was younger than they were, and that "Owen" sounded too serious.

Back then, I actually believed them.

Now, I finally understood.

Since Lydia and Trevor got married, Trevor has been the real member of their social circle. Meanwhile, I'd been the court jester for buying every lie they'd been spewing.

I told them, "Don't call me that. If you're hungry, go buy something yourself. Also, this is my home, so please leave."

My words caught everyone off guard.

The lively atmosphere instantly froze.

Lydia's expression darkened. She deliberately raised her voice, making sure everyone could hear her. "Owen, is that how you talk to my friends? Apologize to them now, then get the seafood. Consider it your apology for ruining everyone's mood."

I almost laughed. 'Apologize? Is that the only word she knows?'

Once upon a time, I had been the person she protected.

When we first got together, one of her friends joked that I was only after Lydia's money.

Lydia was so angry that she almost cut that friend off completely and only forgave her after she gave me a formal apology.

On our first anniversary, the restaurant accidentally served soup containing seafood.

Lydia knew I was allergic to seafood, so she made the manager bring every server over to apologize to me.

I was still allergic to seafood, but she had long since forgotten all about it.

At that moment, Trevor tugged at Lydia's arm, his expression wounded. "Lydia, does Owen not want us here? We only came to celebrate you two making it official."

He deliberately emphasized "making it official" and "celebrate," as if he were waiting for my reaction.

Her friends quickly joined in, bursting into exaggerated, mocking cheers. "Right, Owen. Show us the marriage certificate."

As Trevor spoke, he began looking around the room.

I had not had time to put the certificate away after I got home yesterday.

Trevor had sharp eyes and quick hands.

He immediately picked it up from the TV stand.

Then, he waved it at the others with a grin. "Do you guys want to see their marriage certificate?"