Andrew glanced at me like I was dim. "Let me repeat myself. I have prosopagnosia. I thought you were a stranger, and…"

He trailed off, but I knew he had been desperate to rescue Ivy.

Perhaps my stare pricked his guilt, because he snapped, "Sophie! Do you expect an apology for my psychological condition?"

Andrew's expression darkened, and the fight went out of me.

What good would an apology do now? He had already hurt me.

After a moment, I said heavily, "Fine. I'll put out a statement to explain who I am."

Andrew only then looked satisfied and turned to the window. Catching the tenderness and longing in his eyes, I followed his line of sight.

Ivy was reading at the cafe in another black dress. He picked her out in an instant despite the distance and the window.

So the issue was never prosopagnosia. It was that Andrew only recognized those who mattered to him. He didn't love me.

My chest ached as though my heart had been riddled, the pain sawing through me. Even so, I smiled and rolled the window down so Andrew could look all he wanted.

I had finally come to my senses. Our four-year marriage was over for me, and my love for him was gone for good!

…

The day after, Brenda prodded me to issue the statement.

I drafted a lengthy post laying out my relationship with Andrew. He wanted it hidden, but I was done with that.

Soon, I was done with the post.

"Andrew Connolly was my husband, which was why I went to see him yesterday. But he addressed me as 'riffraff' in front of all his employees. Despite four years of marriage, he failed to recognize me as his wife and repeatedly dismissed me.

"At a recent concert, he saved someone else instead of me. Loving the wrong person shattered me. Therefore, I would be divorcing Mr. Connolly and setting him free."

I ended the post by attaching a photo of our marriage certificate. I felt lighter once it was posted.

Soon, Andrew began calling me nonstop, but I didn't pick up. Minutes later, he stormed home, yanked me from the couch, and dug his fingers into my arm.

"Sophie! Are you insane? Who told you to post that nonsense on Facebook?"

I regarded him coolly. "It's the truth."

He faltered for a second, then barked, "Delete it now!"

I shrugged and shot back, "Even if I do, the screenshots remain."

Andrew fell silent. After thinking it through, he ordered, "Post a new statement saying you were confused and posted it by mistake."

I shook my head, pulled my arm free, and took a few steps back. "I'm not posting anything else."

My refusal drew a brutal cold from him, and his tone turned cutting. "You're being reckless. What if Ivy gets dragged in? People will start digging into who I saved first that day, and once they learn the truth, she'll be doxxed."

Even with all my disappointment in Andrew, his words still hurt. He had never considered my feelings. All his concern was for Ivy.

I looked him straight in the eye and asked, heavy-voiced, "You care about her a lot, don't you?"

"Yes. Ivy means a lot to me," he answered at once.

I managed a wry smile. "I'm nothing to you. That's why you can't remember me."

Andrew frowned, attempting to swallow his temper as he tried to soothe me. "I'll be able to recognize you if you keep wearing the same outfit every day."

Displeasure crept into my tone. "Let's get a divorce, Andrew!"

Andrew looked mildly surprised, lowering his voice as if a gentler tone could smooth things over. "You begged for this marriage shamelessly. You'll never walk away from me, so quit the theatrics."

My gaze flickered, and a bitter smile tugged at my lips.

I had traded my dignity and pride for his last name, and all it bought me was pain. He treated my love as a given, ignoring me whenever it suited him.

Tears stung my eyes, and my voice came out rough. "But I'm not the one you love. So why won't you divorce me?"

Andrew avoided my eyes, said nothing, and then stormed out. He moved so fast that he failed to notice a Suissan pocket watch slip from his jacket.

I picked it up and snapped it open. Inside the lid, tucked into a narrow slot, was a four-inch photo.

The woman in the picture was Ivy, and she wore the same dress I had been putting on every day so Andrew would recognize me. That was the moment it all clicked.

No wonder he insisted I wear that dress, because it was the only way he could tell me apart. He had turned me into a stand-in, so he never saw my real face.

I was nothing more than a fantasy he couldn't let go of.

I let out a hard, humorless laugh and pitched the pocket watch into the pool. A minute later, my screen lit up with a message from Andrew. I opened it.

"You should calm down. I won't agree to a divorce."

I blocked him without a second thought and refused to read anything else from him.

Andrew pulled in a PR team and scrubbed the chatter online. In a fury, he didn't come home for half a month. Since he wouldn't divorce me, I turned everything over to my lawyer.

Back then, I bought nothing but red and styles that copied that one dress just so Andrew would recognize me. Now it all felt like a joke. I didn't even like red. I liked white, pink, and purple.

So I went to the mall and decided to splurge. I held the clothes against me, checking the fit in the mirror when an uninvited figure appeared in the reflection.

Ivy stood behind me, watching with cold disdain. "No matter how you dress up, you'll never be in his heart."

I ignored her and handed my card to the sales associate. "I'll take these."

Ivy snatched the card from my hand, her voice smug. "Don't bother. He won't even glance your way. Didn't you learn that when he left you at the concert?"

I bit my lip. I was about to speak when Andrew walked in. He didn't spare me a glance, and his eyes softened only for Ivy.

"Did you find anything you liked?" he asked.

"I like all of them," she cooed, beaming.

Andrew smiled indulgently and passed a black card to the sales associate. "We'll take everything she picked."

The associate took the card with a bright grin and went to ring it up.

I stood right in front of Andrew, but he still didn't recognize me. His gaze landed on me, distant and cold.

When he spoke, his tone was pure contempt. "Who are you? Stop blocking the mirror. You're in the way. We're trying to check the fit."

I kept quiet.

Andrew lost patience and shooed me with a brisk flick of his hand. "Move! I've booked the store. You don't get to compete with Ivy for any of these clothes."

Then he turned to the associate, who had just finished the sale, and issued another order. "Remember Ms. Miller. From now on, she gets priority whenever she shops here."

The associate nodded quickly.

Ivy thought it was too much and tried to rein him in. "Don't make a fuss over me. You'll offend people."

Andrew brushed it off, his voice cool. "You're mine, so of course you get special treatment. If you want, I'll book the whole mall."

Ivy gave a satisfied smile and threw herself into his arms right before my eyes.

Seeing Andrew and Ivy in each other's arms, I felt pain shot through me, rib by rib, until it bit down on my heart. I swayed, on the verge of passing out. Little by little, the pain leveled into a quiet numbness.

I gave up on Andrew for good. I turned away in disappointment, and even though I kept my shoulders squared, I knew I had already lost.

…

By evening, I had pulled myself together and gone home, only to find Ivy curled up in my bed. I stopped cold when I realized she was wearing my red dress.

She tilted a knowing smile and said, "Oh, please. Know your place. Clinging to Andrew won't get you anywhere. Be sensible. Walk away and keep what dignity you have left."

Then she wrinkled her nose at me. "You're insufferable. You even copied my style."

My face slackened for a beat. After a moment of silence, I blinked, and my vision cleared. Whatever confusion I had had was gone.

With Andrew bringing Ivy into our home, there was no point in keeping up the act.

I tore the love-token necklace from my neck, slipped off the heirloom bracelet and my wedding ring, and set them on the table. With that, I turned and left without a backward glance.

I had planned to pack a few more things, but there was no need anymore. Everything here carried Andrew's presence, and taking any of these things with me would only make my skin crawl whenever I saw them.

I called my best friend, Olivia Brewer, and said firmly, "Book me a flight."

After a beat, something in me loosened, and I added, "Starting today, I'm no longer Mrs. Connolly. I'm just me."

…

I stayed in a hotel for over a week, waiting out the divorce. I knew Andrew had received the divorce papers and had torn them up angrily.

He probably told himself I was only acting out, so he refused to divorce me. He knew I wasn't at home, but still didn't bother to look for me.

I knew he had been spending his days with Ivy and had no intention of dealing with me. Either way, I was past caring.

I didn't flare up even when the gossip sites reported that he and Ivy were joined at the hip, and the comments called them a perfect match. I stayed calm.

Andrew was extremely sharp. He neither confirmed nor denied anything, even with people everywhere speculating about them. With nothing to latch onto, the talk would blow over, and everything would settle again.

I sorted out my assets and cashed them out. I was getting ready to move abroad.

The day before I was set to leave, I spotted Ivy lurking at the hotel entrance and couldn't tell what she was up to. Curiosity got the better of me, so I followed her.

She led me to an abandoned warehouse, where she stopped, turned, and smiled at me. "You tailed me all the way. Here's your big surprise!"

A prickle of alarm ran through me, and I turned to go. An instant later, something thudded hard against the wall behind me.

I whipped around to find Ivy sprawled where she had fallen, blood running down her forehead. The sight sent a chill down my spine.

As confusion needled at me, footsteps pounded up behind. Andrew swept in with his bodyguards in tow, all of them wound tight.

I started to speak when he reached me and slapped me. The blow rang in my skull.

I caught myself against the wall and steadied, just in time to see him lunge for Ivy and scoop her into his arms, his face drawn tight with pain.

"Babe, are you okay?"

Ivy nodded weakly against his chest.

Andrew let out a breath, guilt thick in it. "It's my fault. I should've protected you. I let that bitch abduct you."

His voice settled into a vow. "Don't worry. You won't get hurt again. I'll protect you."

When he was done, he faced me, cold as stone. His eyes widened as if he were searching for recognition but finding none.

"How dare you abduct her? Take her and beat her senseless!"