Chapter 1 · Mr. Familiar Stranger

"You look just like her." Those were the first words Adrian Wright said to me at our wedding.

It had been ten years.

For three thousand six hundred and fifty nights, I believed that I was his wife. In the end, I was just a stand-in.

His first love came back today.

I smiled.

Adrian, it's my turn now.

*****

My name is Esther Thomson, and I'm thirty-two years old. I've been married for ten years, and everyone calls me Mrs. Wright.

Ten years ago, when I married Adrian, everyone said I was lucky.

The Wright family was a well-known, wealthy family in the city. Adrian was their only son. He was handsome, well-educated, and the heir to a fortune worth over 100 million dollars.

As for me? I came from a regular family. There was nothing special about my looks, and my education was average at best.

The only thing that made me stand out was that I looked like someone else. I looked like Adrian's first love, Maya Pleide.

On our wedding day, I stood beside him in my white wedding dress.

The hall was filled with guests and overflowing with flowers.

Adrian looked at me, his expression hard to read.

He had said, "You look just like her."

I paused, caught off guard.

"Who?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

The wedding went on. We exchanged rings, shared a kiss, and toasted with the guests. Everything was perfect.

But that night, drunk and sprawled on the bed, he whispered the name "Maya", a name that wasn't mine.

I sat at his bedside, watching him.

This was the first time I realized something wasn't right about our marriage.

But I didn't dwell on it. It was our wedding night, and he'd had too much to drink. There was nothing unusual about that.

It wasn't until later that I realized Adrian had been calling the same name every night for ten years.

A month after the wedding, my mother-in-law told me to grow out my short hair, saying that long hair suited me better. I went along with it.

Three months into our marriage, Adrian gave me a white dress, saying that I looked good in white. I went along with it.

Six months after the wedding, he signed me up for piano lessons. He believed that learning to play the piano could help make me more refined. I went along with it.

I thought that was just Adrian's way of showing he cared.

He loved my long hair, loved seeing me in white dresses, and loved hearing me play the piano. I thought it was the most romantic thing.

That was until Adrian's class reunion, which happened one year into our marriage.

Someone pulled out an old photo and pointed at a girl with long hair in a white dress. "Adrian, do you remember her? She played the piano beautifully."

I looked at the photo. The girl had long hair down to her waist, dressed in a white gown, her fingers poised over the piano keys. Her features were strikingly similar to mine.

Adrian didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes was something I'd never seen before. It was like he was looking at a long-lost treasure finally returned to him.

In that moment, it all clicked for me.

"Who is that girl?" I asked.

"Maya Pleide," someone chimed in. "She was Adrian's girlfriend back in college. She went abroad and never returned."

I smiled to myself and kept quiet.

That night, Adrian murmured her name again.

I lay next to him, eyes wide open, just staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Growing my hair out, wearing white dresses, and taking piano lessons. It turns out Adrian never really loved me. He just wanted to make me into her.

That year, I was 23 years old.

I thought about divorce, but I kept it to myself.

Because the next morning, Adrian smiled at me and said, "Honey, I made breakfast."

His breakfast was delicious. Milk, eggs, and a sandwich. He made it look really nice, like he actually cared.

Looking at that breakfast, I suddenly wondered if maybe I was just being paranoid.

Maybe he was just used to girls with long hair, white dresses, and the sound of piano music. Maybe it had nothing to do with Maya.

I kept telling myself that I was the one he married. I was the one he woke up to every day, and the one he made breakfast for.

And so, I just kept being Mrs. Wright.

Five years passed. Then, ten years passed. Until today.

I found a box tucked away in the back of a drawer while tidying up his study.

There was a stack of photos inside. In the photos, a girl with long hair down to her waist, dressed in a white dress, sat at a piano. Her face was almost a splitting image of mine.

But it wasn't me.

Each photo had something written on the back.

[Maya, 2009. Maya, 2010. Maya, 2011,] the words read.

There was a photo for every single year, from 2009 all the way to 2014. I flipped through them. There were sixty-three photos in total, and not a single one was of me.

I picked up a letter from the bottom of the box.

On the envelope, it read, [To Maya Pleide]

There was no address, and it had never been opened.

I opened the letter.

It read, [Maya, reading these words feels like having you right here with me. Today is my wedding day. I married a girl who looks so much like you.]

Chapter 1

"You look just like her." Those were the first words Adrian Wright said to me at our wedding.

It had been ten years.

For three thousand six hundred and fifty nights, I believed that I was his wife. In the end, I was just a stand-in.

His first love came back today.

I smiled.

Adrian, it's my turn now.

*****

My name is Esther Thomson, and I'm thirty-two years old. I've been married for ten years, and everyone calls me Mrs. Wright.

Ten years ago, when I married Adrian, everyone said I was lucky.

The Wright family was a well-known, wealthy family in the city. Adrian was their only son. He was handsome, well-educated, and the heir to a fortune worth over 100 million dollars.

As for me? I came from a regular family. There was nothing special about my looks, and my education was average at best.

The only thing that made me stand out was that I looked like someone else. I looked like Adrian's first love, Maya Pleide.

On our wedding day, I stood beside him in my white wedding dress.

The hall was filled with guests and overflowing with flowers.

Adrian looked at me, his expression hard to read.

He had said, "You look just like her."

I paused, caught off guard.

"Who?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

The wedding went on. We exchanged rings, shared a kiss, and toasted with the guests. Everything was perfect.

But that night, drunk and sprawled on the bed, he whispered the name "Maya", a name that wasn't mine.

I sat at his bedside, watching him.

This was the first time I realized something wasn't right about our marriage.

But I didn't dwell on it. It was our wedding night, and he'd had too much to drink. There was nothing unusual about that.

It wasn't until later that I realized Adrian had been calling the same name every night for ten years.

A month after the wedding, my mother-in-law told me to grow out my short hair, saying that long hair suited me better. I went along with it.

Three months into our marriage, Adrian gave me a white dress, saying that I looked good in white. I went along with it.

Six months after the wedding, he signed me up for piano lessons. He believed that learning to play the piano could help make me more refined. I went along with it.

I thought that was just Adrian's way of showing he cared.

He loved my long hair, loved seeing me in white dresses, and loved hearing me play the piano. I thought it was the most romantic thing.

That was until Adrian's class reunion, which happened one year into our marriage.

Someone pulled out an old photo and pointed at a girl with long hair in a white dress. "Adrian, do you remember her? She played the piano beautifully."

I looked at the photo. The girl had long hair down to her waist, dressed in a white gown, her fingers poised over the piano keys. Her features were strikingly similar to mine.

Adrian didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes was something I'd never seen before. It was like he was looking at a long-lost treasure finally returned to him.

In that moment, it all clicked for me.

"Who is that girl?" I asked.

"Maya Pleide," someone chimed in. "She was Adrian's girlfriend back in college. She went abroad and never returned."

I smiled to myself and kept quiet.

That night, Adrian murmured her name again.

I lay next to him, eyes wide open, just staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Growing my hair out, wearing white dresses, and taking piano lessons. It turns out Adrian never really loved me. He just wanted to make me into her.

That year, I was 23 years old.

I thought about divorce, but I kept it to myself.

Because the next morning, Adrian smiled at me and said, "Honey, I made breakfast."

His breakfast was delicious. Milk, eggs, and a sandwich. He made it look really nice, like he actually cared.

Looking at that breakfast, I suddenly wondered if maybe I was just being paranoid.

Maybe he was just used to girls with long hair, white dresses, and the sound of piano music. Maybe it had nothing to do with Maya.

I kept telling myself that I was the one he married. I was the one he woke up to every day, and the one he made breakfast for.

And so, I just kept being Mrs. Wright.

Five years passed. Then, ten years passed. Until today.

I found a box tucked away in the back of a drawer while tidying up his study.

There was a stack of photos inside. In the photos, a girl with long hair down to her waist, dressed in a white dress, sat at a piano. Her face was almost a splitting image of mine.

But it wasn't me.

Each photo had something written on the back.

[Maya, 2009. Maya, 2010. Maya, 2011,] the words read.

There was a photo for every single year, from 2009 all the way to 2014. I flipped through them. There were sixty-three photos in total, and not a single one was of me.

I picked up a letter from the bottom of the box.

On the envelope, it read, [To Maya Pleide]

There was no address, and it had never been opened.

I opened the letter.

It read, [Maya, reading these words feels like having you right here with me. Today is my wedding day. I married a girl who looks so much like you.]