Chapter 1
My husband's childhood friend was getting married, and he brought his first love along; they served as the best man and bridesmaid.
On social media, everyone said they were "a perfect match in looks but sadly not meant to be."
I stared at my phone for three whole minutes.
I turned off the lights.
And went straight to bed.
The next morning, I woke up to find 98 missed calls.
The latest text was from Edward: [Honey, my parents found out. They're flying over. Can you please not turn off your phone?]
Wait. I just went to sleep. How was the Sinclair family about to collapse?
*****
We'd been married for two years.
Edward Sinclair never took me along to any of his class reunions.
He always brought Nina Summers, his childhood sweetheart, the girl he grew up with, his first love.
Everyone online said they were the perfect match that missed their chance.
I asked him about it once.
He said, "She's like a little sister to me. Don't be so jealous."
Alright, I decided not to care anymore.
But today was different.
Today was the wedding of his best friend, Charles Bennett.
Three months ago, Edward had told me this wedding was a big deal.
I'd picked out a dress and spent the whole afternoon waiting in the living room.
He called at four in the afternoon.
He said, "Don't come tonight. Nina got pulled in as a bridesmaid last minute, and I'm the best man. It's just easier for us to go together.
"Just take it easy at home, okay? No need to come."
He hung up.
I sat on the couch, the dress spread out over my legs.
It was such a beautiful dress.
Guess I bought it for nothing.
I picked up my phone and opened my feed.
I hadn't even scrolled three posts before I saw it.
The bride's best friend had posted a grid of nine photos. Edward and Nina standing side by side behind the newlyweds.
He was in a navy best man suit, and she was in a champagne bridesmaid dress.
Honestly, they looked more like the real couple than the actual bride and groom.
The caption read: [Check out these two! Charlie, are you sure you didn't marry the wrong person?]
The comments were blowing up.
[They're such a perfect match!]
[Who was the one who ruined their love back then?]
[Shouldn't Mr. Sinclair and Nina be the ones getting married?]
I kept scrolling.
Nina had posted something too.
She was smiling softly, her head leaning against Edward's shoulder, showing off a bracelet on her wrist.
The caption read: [Ten years later, and this is still the only shoulder that feels like home.]
I couldn't take my eyes off that bracelet.
I recognized it instantly.
Edward's grandmother had it sent to me from her hometown last year, just before she passed away.
She told me it had been passed down for three generations, meant for the wife of the Sinclair Family's eldest grandson.
It was always too loose on my wrist.
Edward said he'd keep it in his safe for now and take me to get it resized another day.
Six months went by, and nothing ever happened.
Turned out, it found its way onto someone else's wrist.
I placed my phone screen-down on the coffee table.
The wind outside made the wind chimes on the balcony tinkle.
I stared at the chimes for what felt like ages, then picked up my phone again.
I held down the power button. The screen popped up with a message: [Power off?]
I hit [Confirm].
I dragged the dress into the bedroom and tossed it right to the very bottom of the closet.
I slipped into my pajamas, yanked the curtains shut, killed the lights, and flopped onto the bed.
Three seconds later, I sat up again.
I walked to the entryway and yanked the landline cord out of the wall.
Then I went back to bed.
I slept straight through the night, not waking up until morning.
Meanwhile, at the wedding venue.
The host kicked off the thank-you round, and the groom's father took the stage to give his speech.
Roger Bennett, the groom's dad, was old buddies with Edward's grandfather.
As he wrapped up his speech, he glanced over at Edward.
"Edward," he called out. "Where's your wife?"
The whole place went dead silent for a couple of seconds.
Edward's hand froze mid-air, still holding his glass.
Edward forced a smile, trying to sound casual. "Roger, she's not feeling well today," he said.
"Not feeling well?" Roger frowned. "I saw her just last month at the hospital, bringing food to your dad. She looked great."
Edward didn't say a word.
Roger let out a sigh. "Edward, I've seen your wife a couple of times.
"She's steady, sensible, and when your dad was in the hospital, she was always there, running around for him. She's the kind of woman you could really settle down with.
"And on your big day, you leave her sitting at home like an outsider?"
Nina dug her nails into Edward's arm.
But her smile stayed perfectly in place.
Edward could only force a smile back.
"Roger, I'll make it up to her when I get home," Edward said.
Roger gave Nina a pointed look, then drained his glass in one go.
The wedding went on.
Edward stood there with his glass in hand, feeling a heavy weight in his chest.
He pulled out his phone.
He shot me a text: [Are you asleep?]
Still no reply, so he texted again: [Why aren't you answering?]
Still nothing.
He scrolled through his feed.
He saw that photo of him and Nina together, and the comments were all saying they looked like a match made in heaven.
He felt even more weighed down inside.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
He scrolled through our chat history.
The last time I texted him was twelve days ago.
It read: [Your dad's blood pressure meds are almost out. I'll pick some up at the pharmacy tomorrow.]
He just replied with a plain "Okay."
Looking further up, it was just him telling me what to do and me answering, "Sure."
It suddenly dawned on Edward that it had been ages since we had a proper conversation.
The wedding wrapped up around nine at night.
Edward drove Nina home.
When they pulled up to her building, she didn't get out.
"Edward," Nina said. "If I hadn't gone abroad back then, would I have been the one?"
Edward gripped the steering wheel and didn't say anything for a while.
"Nina," he said after a long pause. "I'm married."
Nina smiled faintly. "I know.
"Just curious, that's all."
She got out and slammed the door behind her.
Edward turned the car around and headed home, trying to call me seven times during the drive.
But my phone was off.
That weight in his chest suddenly twisted into panic.
Edward got home around ten-thirty.
The house was dark, except for a small nightlight glowing in the entryway.
He kicked off his shoes and walked into the bedroom.
I was lying there with my back to him, bundled up tight in the blanket.
He let out a sigh of relief, bent down, about to nudge me, but stopped halfway and pulled his hand back.
'Forget it, let her sleep,' he thought.
After his shower, he glanced at his phone.
His phone was blowing up—over seventy unread messages.