Frederick had soothed me, told me not to let her get under my skin, and promised that one day he'd give me the most exquisite wedding dress in the world.
He had pulled every string he had to honor that promise. Years later, it was finally finished. The moment I saw the photos of the completed gown, I was captivated.
I had been so full of joy, so eager to see it on myself. And now it turned out to be Agatha's gift all along—tailored to her body.
Everything I'd been holding back shattered at once. I sobbed, my whole frame shaking.
The attendants saw me trembling and assumed I was overcome with happiness. They rushed to dab the tears from my cheeks.
They were nearly done with the final lacing when the ribbons refused to close. The measurements were wrong. The staff exchanged bewildered glances.
When I finally steadied myself enough to speak, my voice came out low and even:
"I'm not Agatha Dickerson. And I won't have a husband much longer."
"This dress isn't mine either. Something this tasteless wouldn't interest me anyway."
I waved my hand in dismissal. I didn't want to look at the gown for another second. I swiped my card, then told the staff to burn it right there in front of me. Out of sight, out of mind.
The firelight played across my face. By the time it was over, dusk had settled in, and I went home alone.
Days of insomnia had left me in a fog. I'd just brewed a pot of coffee and was about to sit down when my phone started buzzing nonstop.
An unknown account sent me photos. I stared at them, transfixed, and didn't notice the coffee cup slipping from my hands until it shattered on the floor.
A shard of glass sliced into my shin. I didn't feel it.
In the photos, silky hair spilled across Frederick's back. The dim lighting only made the outline of their bodies more unmistakable.
The diamond ring on her hand glinted so brightly it was impossible to ignore. My eyes went wide when I spotted the vanity box I'd always treasured sitting on the table behind them. It used to live in the passenger seat of his car.
The video was grainy, but the audio was crystal clear.
"When are you going to go public with me? I'm the one who sent her that recording. Time she learned her place."
"Relax. You're my only real wife. Once she gives birth, she's served her purpose."
Their silhouettes tangled together, and the sound of heavy breathing drowned out everything else.