I returned to Illinois in secret, clutching my wedding dress—a symbol of the promise Jason Grey and I had made three years ago. My heart raced with anticipation as I approached the venue of our long-awaited reunion. Instead of the romantic encounter I’d imagined, I stumbled into a nightmare.

Jason stood there, his hand entwined with another woman’s. It wasn’t just any woman—she was my mirror image. A carbon copy.

They were in the middle of their engagement ceremony.

The moment her tearful eyes met mine, she froze, then broke into sobs. Without another word, she fled the hall, tripping over her own feet as though escaping a ghost.

Jason turned to me, fury etched into his handsome features. “Why does your face have to look like that?” he snapped. “You’re making everyone uncomfortable!”

His words stung like icy daggers. Before I could respond, the man I once trusted dashed after his ‘bride’, leaving me stranded and humiliated.

The crowd was relentless. Fingers pointed, whispers turned into mocking laughter and I became the evening’s entertainment. My so-called friends—familiar faces that once smiled at me—didn’t even attempt to hide their disdain.

“Did you have to come back and ruin everything? Wouldn’t it have been better if you’d stayed dead abroad?”

“All these years, Paula had to carry your face like a curse. The moment you step back in, you stir up chaos like a storm.”

“Apologize and repent, or you’re no longer my friend.”

Disgust filled their eyes, but I didn’t flinch. I let their words fall like raindrops on a shield of indifference. Without another glance, I dialed my mother’s number.

“Mom,” I said, my voice steady and cold, “I’ll accept the marriage proposal from the Moore family.”

The room fell into stunned silence as I walked out, leaving their gossip and judgment behind. These so-called friends weren’t worth the effort.

***

I returned to the house Jason and I had once shared—six years of memories locked behind its door. I hadn’t been back in three years, but stepping inside felt like trespassing in someone else’s life.

The master bedroom was unrecognizable. My belongings were gone, replaced by someone else’s: flowery perfume lingered in the air, a pair of lace underwear and men’s boxers were tossed carelessly on our bed.

The audacity stung.

Right on cue, my phone rang. Jason.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he barked the moment I picked up. “I’ve been hiding this from Paula for so long. Why did you have to show yourself now?!”

I bit back a bitter laugh, my voice calm and cutting. “Have you forgotten our three-year promise?”

Silence stretched on the line. Memories surfaced: the day I left for my studies abroad. Jason had hugged me tightly, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll wait for you,” he’d promised. “When you come back, I’ll give you the grandest wedding ever.”

He finally spoke, his voice softer but still dripping with condescension. “I haven’t forgotten. But you need to understand—Paula has suffered too much because of you. You need to beg for her forgiveness. Only then can we have a chance.”

His charity-like tone was laughable. I let out a dry chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded, irritation seeping through.

Before I could respond, I heard her voice—her voice—on the other end of the call. It was soft, trembling and dripping with pitiful sweetness.

“So, Jason… I really am just a stand-in, aren’t I? You promised you’d marry me… was that just a joke?”

I heard the panic in his voice as he dropped the phone, scrambling to reassure her. “No, Paula! You’re beautiful. You’re the only one for me. I’d never marry her.”

Two denials. The words pierced deeper than any blade.

I hung up, refusing to listen to another second of their ridiculous performance.

That night, Jason finally came home. The door creaked open and when he saw me sitting there, he froze, startled.

“How did you get in here?” he asked, his voice cold. “Where did you get the key?”

He’d forgotten. I was the one who had turned this house into a home. I chose the furniture, I decorated every corner and I had the keys made.

Realization flickered in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a forced smile. From behind his back, he pulled out a small velvet box.

“Look at this,” he said, opening it to reveal a ring. “I had this customized. Just for you.”

He grabbed my hand, his touch gentle but calculated and moved to slide the ring onto my finger.

“You owe Paula too much,” he murmured. “I don’t want an apology from you. This is enough.”

The audacity—the sheer audacity—made me want to laugh all over again.

Was this the man I once loved?

“Go get plastic surgery. I’ll pay for it, and afterward, I’ll marry you.”

Jason’s voice dripped with arrogance, as if he were granting me the world on a silver platter.

“Paula looks exactly like you. It’s a scar in her heart and this is how you’ll make it up to her. It’s the price you pay to marry me.”

I stared at him in disbelief before ripping off the ring on my finger—the one engraved with Paula’s initials—and hurling it straight into his face.

“Not a chance.”

I turned on my heel and walked toward the room, but his mocking voice followed me like a shadow.

“Hailey, stop pretending. Don’t you want to get married? Don’t be ridiculous.”

His tone was smug and confident. “Until you get that face fixed, don’t even think about walking down the aisle with me.”

He truly believed marriage was a leash that could control me. Little did he know—I’ve never been the kind of woman to beg for scraps.

***

The next morning, hunger woke me up. I hadn’t eaten anything since getting off the plane, so I decided to make myself breakfast. As I quietly ate, Jason stumbled into the kitchen, still groggy and tousled from sleep.

The moment he saw me, his eyes widened in shock. In a single stride, he snatched the chopsticks right out of my hands.

“What are you doing?” I asked, startled.

His brows furrowed in irritation. “Paula has a cleanliness obsession. If she finds out you touched these, she’ll refuse to eat.”

He muttered to himself, as if coaxing Paula was the hardest task in the world. “You have no idea how much effort it takes to calm her down.”

Just then, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the apartment.

Paula stepped inside, her expression tense, as though she were bracing herself for something.

“Paula!” Jason’s face lit up instantly and he hid the chopsticks behind his back like a guilty child. “You’re back! You’ve come to your senses, haven’t you?”

But Paula ignored him. She walked straight ahead, her voice calm but resolute. “No, I’m just here to grab my things. I’ll leave after that.”

Panic flashed across Jason’s face. He darted in front of her, his voice trembling. “What are you saying, Paula? This is your home!”

“You’re not an outsider, you’ll never be an outsider. You’re my Paula.” He grabbed her hands and declared passionately, “If anyone dares to drive you out, they’ll have to go through me first!”

Paula’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course.” Without hesitation, he pulled her into a tight embrace, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks like she was a fragile doll.

They acted as if I didn’t exist, but I couldn’t care less. I had plans of my own.

***

That night, Jason announced that I would sleep in the guest room. His excuse?

“Paula isn’t used to sleeping here.”

I watched him eagerly usher Paula toward the master bedroom and casually asked, “So, you’re sleeping with her now?”

He flinched, as though caught red-handed. “Of course not. Paula is just afraid of being alone at night, so I’ll keep her company. I’ll sleep on the floor—don’t get the wrong idea.”

I didn’t reply. But later that night, through the thin walls, I heard the unmistakable sounds of suppressed moans and the bedframe rattling violently.

The next morning, Jason emerged from the room looking refreshed and satisfied, while Paula clung to his arm, her face flushed with shy delight.

Over breakfast, Paula suddenly perked up and announced, “Let’s go race car driving today!”

The words hit me like a punch. Race cars—something that had once been ours.

I fell in love with Jason because of racing. Back then, during a chaotic race, a car had spun out of control and hurtled straight into the crowd. Jason had thrown himself in front of me, shielding me from the crash and ended up in the emergency room.

That day, I promised myself I’d marry him. And he had promised me the same.

Now, watching him sit beside Paula, smiling fondly, the memory left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Paula turned to me unexpectedly, her voice sweet yet sharp. “Hailey, you should come too.”

I opened my mouth to refuse, but Jason shot me an irritated glare.

“Stop looking like you’re mourning your own funeral. Don’t ruin the mood.”

Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the car.

Paula immediately slid into the passenger seat, leaving me no choice but to sit in the back. I didn’t care. I had more important things to do—I answered a call and spoke quietly, ignoring their antics.

“Hailey,” my mother’s voice came through the line, “let’s set the wedding for one month from now.”

I froze for a moment. “A month? Alright.”

My voice was calm, but beside me, Jason stiffened. “A month? What are you talking about?” he demanded.

I didn’t bother to answer and for once, he didn’t push the issue.

At the race track, the team erupted in cheers as soon as Jason and Paula appeared.

“Jason!”

“Sister-in-law!”

Jason instinctively glanced my way, seemingly afraid I’d react. But I didn’t flinch. I kept my face unreadable, which seemed to let him breathe a sigh of relief.

It was only then that the team noticed me. “Who’s that?” someone asked, looking curious.

In the past three years, all the familiar faces had been replaced. I recognized no one here.

Before I could respond, Paula cheerfully looped her arm through mine and said, “She’s the chaperone I brought along.”

Then she turned her sugary gaze on me. “Hailey, I heard you used to be an amazing racer. Why don’t we have a little match? Just for fun?”

The team murmured in awe. “Sister-in-law’s friend? A pro racer? This will be interesting!”

It had been a long time since I’d held a steering wheel. The challenge stirred something in me. I didn’t refuse.

As I approached the car, Jason stepped close, lowering his voice. “Paula doesn’t take losing well. Let her win. You owe her that much.”

I shot him a cold, cutting glare. Without saying a word, I got into the car.

The engine roared to life and as I pressed the gas pedal, a surge of long-forgotten excitement rushed through me.

“Paula wants to win?” I thought. “Let her chase me.”

To my surprise, Jason announced over the radio that he would serve as my navigator for the race. His voice crackled through the headset, steady and familiar as he guided me.

Despite myself, I began to trust him. How could I not? Years ago, he was my navigator—my partner in every sense of the word. The rhythm came back easily, the tacit understanding we had built over six years resurfacing like muscle memory.

I pulled ahead of Paula in minutes, leaving her far behind.

Then, just as I approached the final stretch, Jason’s voice echoed in my ear.

“After this big turn, it’s a straightaway. Step on the gas and take the win.”

I trusted him. I accelerated hard.

But it wasn’t a straightaway—it was another curve. A sharp one.

The car broke through the guardrail, flipped several times and landed with a sickening crash. Pain seared through my body as everything went black.

When I briefly regained consciousness, all I could hear were cheers and laughter. Through blurry vision, I saw Paula surrounded by the team, celebrating as though she were some kind of hero.

In the center of it all, Jason wrapped her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Paula, I knew you’d win!”

It hit me like a dagger. Jason—my navigator—had lied. He had gambled with my life to let Paula win.

The last thing I saw before slipping back into darkness was his smiling face.

***

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The sterile smell stung my nose and my head throbbed. Beside me, Jason sat slouched in a chair, his face lighting up when he noticed I was awake.

“Hailey!” he exclaimed, almost in relief. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think the car would actually go off the track. I just wanted Paula to win. That’s all.”

His voice was soft, guilt-ridden.

Then, as if it would make up for everything, he reached out and touched my face tenderly. “Why didn’t you tell me you went abroad for surgery?”

He held up a medical record in his hand. Brain cancer. Three years ago, I had left to undergo surgery and fight for my life. I never told him—I had said I was studying abroad. I thought I was sparing him, but now it all seemed laughable.

I stared at him coldly. “So what if I did?”

He faltered, unable to respond.