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.

I should've known that day.

[Don't worry, I won't let Reese give birth to that baby.]

[You know it will be a problem in the future if she gives birth, right? No way I can explain that to the public.]

[Give me three days, okay? I'll take care of it.]

I almost dropped his phone when I saw the texts he sent Chrisley before coming home.

The day I lost our baby, I was wrecked.

I even felt guilt like I'd let Keith down. It was his kid, after all.

But now? Now I know—our baby was just a problem he didn't want to deal with!

He never wanted me to give birth to our baby!

Hell, he was even ready to kill his own child.

Just so it wouldn't burden him!

Just so I couldn't use it as leverage against him!

I tried to take a deep breath to steady myself, but my whole body wouldn't stop shaking.

And then, there he was, strolling out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips.

"Babe? What's wrong? Why are you shaking so much?"

He pulled me into his arms, looking at me like he gave a damn.

"I'm cold," I said, throwing out the first lie that came to mind.

But looking at him felt like I was looking at a stranger.

Worse—he scared me.

"You're such a goof. If you're cold, wear more layers," he said. "Wait here, I'll turn up the heat and make you some honey tea. Your favorite."

He smiled, ran his hand through my hair, and headed for the kitchen.

And then my phone buzzed. The sound nearly made me jump out of my skin.

I picked it up right away, and my best friend's excited voice came through the line.

"Girl! Ugh, you really are so lucky! Keith's such a sweetheart—planning a whole romantic trip for you two!" She giggled, adding, "No wonder I couldn't contact you all this time! It turns out you secretly went on a trip with him, huh?"

I was stunned and blurted out, "What trip?"

"Oh, don't play dumb! The internet's full of pictures of you two on that trip! Each one looks so romantic! You're killing us with how perfect you two are!"

My thumb quickly opened X, and the news about Keith Cyrus's romantic trip with his wife was trending.

That's when it hit me. That week he was "busy"? He wasn't working. He was in the Maldives. With Chrisley.

And the hotel in the pictures? It was the same one he took me to last month. The one we left after just one night.

"Babe, sorry. Something came up at work. We gotta go back to Washington," he said.

Our vacation—something I'd been looking forward to for so long—was cut short because of his work.

But I'd been so understanding. Told him I got it—work came first.

But now I see it—the only reason we left early was so he could save the real vacation for her.

I was curious why he took so many photos of us that day. Apparently, they weren't for memories.

They were only props. If paparazzi caught him and Chrisley, he could leak our photos, spin the story, and distract the media's attention.

Just like that, he could easily cover up his affair.

His love for me? It wasn't real.

"What're you looking at?"

His voice snapped me back to reality just as my eyes turned red and my vision blurred with tears.

I turned to see him standing there with a steaming cup of honey tea.

His eyes flicked to the screen of my phone, and I swear I saw something shift in his expression for a second.

But then, he smiled, looking calm. "Now you get it, huh?" he said. "That's why I took so many pictures of us that day. To make sure the media knows how in love we are."

There was no doubt he won Best Actor—even his lies felt like a performance.

Calm and composed—that's how he looked as he stood in front of me, one sentence brushing off the truth about his affair with Chrisley.

I swallowed my tears and didn't tell him I knew he was lying. Instead, I silently took the honey tea from his hand.

I took a sip, but it tasted bitter.

"Who was calling you just now?"

He sat beside me, wrapping his arm lightly around my shoulder as he asked, his tone laced with a subtle hint of probing.

"My best friend," I answered truthfully, meeting his gaze. "She thought I went to the Maldives this week and said she was jealous."

Keith didn't flinch. Instead, the corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile. "Something urgent came up at work last time. Once my schedule's cleared, I'll take you there again."

"Sure." I nodded weakly, fully aware he was just saying it to say it.

There wouldn't be a next time. 'Keith, if loving me was always a lie, then I won't trouble you anymore. You don't need to keep pretending.'

But just as I was figuring out how to leave with some dignity, a sudden, sharp pain in my belly left me gasping.

It was excruciating like being slashed by a blade.

Beads of sweat the size of pearls soaked through my clothes, and blood began to seep down my thighs again.

For a moment, I genuinely thought I was going to die.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

He noticed my pale face and how I clutched my stomach tightly.

I saw panic fill his eyes. In his haste, he even knocked over an expensive vase by the door, smashing it to pieces.

"Babe, don't scare me, please!" he freaked out. "I'll get you to the hospital right now. Hang in there!"

The car sped down the road, running who knows how many red lights.

"We need a doctor! Doctor!"

When we got to the hospital, he carried me in his arms and charged into the emergency room. He yelled loudly in the lobby, completely ignoring his image as a public figure.

Not until I was rushed into surgery did he finally let out a long breath.

"If anything happens to my wife, I'll hold you all accountable!"

By now, a crowd had gathered in the emergency hall. People recognized Keith, pulling out their phones to record the scene.

Even in a moment like this, I realized he was still acting.

Still playing the role of the loving husband in public.

It wouldn't take long before news of Keith rushing his wife to the hospital, overwhelmed with worry, would dominate the headlines.

"Mrs. Cyrus, you're not taking your health seriously!"

The doctor's voice snapped me out of my daze after the procedure.

"The baby's already gone. Why on earth would you take abortion pills on top of that?"

"You're risking your life—do you even realize that?"

Thanks to the doctors' immediate help, I gradually started to recover somehow.

But then I learned something even more terrifying from their words.

The honey tea Keith gave me earlier—he… he'd slipped abortion pills into it.

That's why my already weak body, recovering from the miscarriage, almost gave out completely!

In the texts he'd sent to Chrisley, he promised her I'd lose our baby within three days.

I just didn't expect him to act so fast.

Sure enough, the next day, the internet was flooded with pictures and videos of him frantically pacing the hospital.

My miscarriage had become another tool to bolster his public image.

Meanwhile, he was nowhere to be found.

I was left alone at home, too weak to even crawl out of bed.

It wasn't until late afternoon that he came back.

Walking into the room, he took my hand in his, his gaze warm and tender.

"Babe, don't be too upset, okay?" he murmured. "I know how much you wanted a baby, but no one could've expected something like this to happen."