Chapter 1
I'd thought marrying Jason Leonard was the best thing that could ever happen to me.
Jason was my childhood sweetheart, my first crush, a classy architect, and the "perfect guy" that my sister, Valerie Woods, set me up with.
But on our wedding night, I found a secret drawer in his study.
Inside, there weren't any important documents. Instead, there were Valerie's photos and letters from the past ten years, along with a note that made me freeze.
It read, "Once Whitney gets pregnant, I'll divorce her and marry you."
It turned out I'd been a substitute all along, a stepping stone on the path to their happiness.
And the one who pushed me into this nightmare was none other than my trusted sister.
*****
On the third day after our wedding, Jason had to head out of town for work.
He kissed my forehead, and his voice was soft as ever. "Whitney, I need to check out a project in Shariport. I'll be back soon."
I nodded, feeling reluctant to see him go. "Travel safe, okay?"
"Just wait for me right here." Jason brushed his hand over my cheek, his eyes full of promise. "I'll miss you."
After Jason left, I was all alone in our new house and felt an indescribable sense of emptiness in my heart.
Most brides would be upset if their husband disappeared on a work trip three days into the honeymoon phase, but not me. I'd always been the good little sister, the one who never complained.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I sat on the couch, sorting through the old books I'd brought from my parents' house. Each one was a priceless heirloom from my grandmother.
As I was flipping through Restoration Techniques of Historic Architecture, I thought that Jason would probably get a kick out of this. I decided to leave it in his study for him to check out later.
Opening the door to his study, I found everything perfectly arranged. Jason was such a perfectionist; every item had its proper place.
I carefully approached his desk, ready to set the book in the most noticeable spot for a little surprise.
Just as I bent forward to place it, my elbow bumped into a decorative piece sitting on the corner of his desk.
The crisp sound of breaking glass cut through the quiet room.
"Crap," I muttered, crouching to clean up the glass. But as I reached for it, I noticed something odd about the desktop.
There was a thin line. Maybe it was a hidden drawer.
My fingers ran along the gap, and sure enough, I found a tiny latch. I pressed it, and a secret drawer slid open.
Inside was a black phone.
I paused, confused. Jason already had a phone. I wondered why he needed to keep a spare one.
I picked it up, and the screen lit up on its own. No password required.
The chat screen staring back at me was like a lightning strike.
At the top was a pinned contact: My Love, and the profile picture was Valerie.
My hands trembled as I tapped into the chat history. The messages made me almost unable to stand still.
My Love: [Jason, Whitney asked me today when you two are planning to have kids.]
Jason: [Soon. In a few more months.]
My Love: [She trusts us so much. Sometimes I feel a little guilty about it.]
Jason: [Don't worry about it. Once she gets pregnant, all this will be over.]
My Love: [So we'll finally get to be together, right?]
Jason: [Of course. I've been waiting an entire decade for this.]
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the phone, but I kept scrolling up.
Jason: [I miss you.]
My Love: [I miss you too. Too bad Whitney's home.]
Jason: [Once I'm back from my trip, we'll find a chance to meet up.]
My Love: [Voice message]
I tapped play. Valerie's voice came out, playful and a little coy. "Ugh, you're such a tease. What if Whitney overhears us?"
Scrolling up, I saw even more messages that broke my heart.
Jason: [Show me a picture.]
My Love: [Photo] Jason: [You're absolutely stunning—miles prettier than Whitney.]
My Love: [Doesn't your conscience hurt saying that about your wife?]
Jason: [She's just a tool. The only person I've ever loved is you.]
Tears blurred my vision, and my trembling fingers nearly sent the phone crashing to the floor.
But the thing that truly shattered me was their latest conversation.
My Love: [So, how did your wedding night go?]
Jason: [Don't even get me started. I just kept my eyes shut, and all I could think about was you.]
My Love: [So how did you handle it?]
Jason: [What choice did I have? For the baby's sake, I just put up with it. It'll all be over soon anyway.]
My Love: [I'm waiting for you at the hotel. Room 306.]
Jason: [On my way.]
The timestamp read, "11:47 PM, last night."
And at that exact same time, I was in the kitchen, making him a midnight snack and waiting for him to come home from his so-called "overtime shift."
I could spot Jason's handwriting—no doubt about it, it was his.
I slumped down onto the carpet. Every little detail from the past three years flashed through my mind.
Three years ago, on a rainy night, Valerie called me. "Hey, Whitney, I want you to meet a friend of mine. He's an amazing architect."
The first time we met, Jason was every bit the perfect gentleman—graceful, charming. Honestly, he perfectly matched the image of my ideal partner in my mind.
"From the moment I first laid eyes on you, Whitney, you felt different," he said back then. His gaze was pure and bright.
I thought that was love at first sight.
But now I knew. That was all part of a carefully laid plan.