Ethan and I had been married seven years when his old flame came back from overseas. He asked me for a divorce. “I don’t agree,” I said, meeting Ethan’s cold, hard stare. How could I agree? After all, it’s not every day you find a man who looks so much like him. 1. The man I loved most died. He died eight years ago, in a brutal, snow-swept winter. The wind in Upstate New York cut like a knife that day, making my fingers too numb to even try and touch his cheek. I couldn’t accept it. I spent a whole year, practically out of my mind, searching for Leo, before I finally found someone who looked exactly like him. So how could I just leave? I gave Ethan my most gentle, harmless smile. “Honey, what are you talking about? Why would we get divorced?” Ethan grabbed the front of my shirt, his voice tight with menace. “Clara, you better not push your luck.” I hate it when people touch me aggressively like that, but what choice did I have? There was no second substitute waiting in the wings. I had to keep up the act. “Ethan, I really love you. I really, really love you so much.” Tears started streaming down my face. I clutched at his sleeve, bowing my head like some pathetic beggar. “Please, just give me some more time? Just a year… just one more year…” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I’ve never believed a parasite feeding off someone else would leave willingly.” Funny, neither do I. My plan was to play the tragic lover for a while. Maybe whip up a fake cancer diagnosis, drag things out for that year. In the blink of an eye, my acting skills kicked in. My fingers started trembling uncontrollably, like I had some kind of palsy. By the time I looked up at Ethan again, my face was so pale I looked like I was knocking on death’s door. It startled him. He let go, maybe a little less roughly than before, but he still turned and walked out without looking back. 2 Ethan had countless flings; his reputation as a playboy was well-known. When people heard I was determined to marry him, some scoffed, others tried to talk me out of it. But the ones who knew the real reason? They stayed silent. What could they say? Ethan looked so much like Leo, it was like they were cast from the same mold. During that year I spent searching for Leo, I nearly lost my mind. I was a completely different person from the gentle, well-mannered woman I’d been before. If I hadn’t managed to act perfectly normal in public, my friends probably would have tried to get me committed. Obsessive, borderline crazy, highly intelligent… I probably looked like a textbook case for a future psycho killer. The first month Ethan and I were married, they were practically bracing themselves for some shocking headline news. I scoffed at the thought. After finally finding someone who looked so much like him, I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him. How could I possibly lay a hand on him? Now Ethan was gone. I just stared blankly at the table lamp, repeating two words over and over in my head. Leo, Leo, Leo… Memories pulled me back, deep into the past, back to a warm, sunny winter day eight years ago. … “So, what’s our brilliant PhD graduate planning to do after this?” Leo, bathed in the warm winter sun, wore a long, slightly brownish coat and a plaid scarf. The turtleneck sweater underneath made him look even gentler. Winter always suited him. Leo’s hands were big and warm; they could swallow mine whole. Just having him around seemed to make the whole winter feel cozy and natural, wrapping me in a warmth like sunshine. He held out a steaming bag of roasted chestnuts, smiling at me. I answered the question he’d asked a moment before. “Maybe I’ll work at the institute. Or maybe I’ll end up working for some big pharma company that pays well.” “So, our star academic finally admits she might end up just another working stiff?” Leo teased me. “Finally ready to give up being stubborn?” Well, if he was going to put it like that, I couldn’t just back down. I had to be stubborn. I tilted my chin up. “Then I’m going to the institute. It’s settled. I’ll contact them right away.” Leo laughed, and in that moment, I felt totally outmatched, like such a child. “Okay, okay, I was just asking.” Leo ruffled my hair, his expression turning serious, gentle but firm. “I was thinking, wherever you go, I’ll go too.” And just like that, because I was being stubborn, Leo and I ended up like a two-for-one deal, joining the research institute one after the other, becoming the resident golden couple. 3 I’m an orphan, no parents to speak of. The first children’s home that took me in went bankrupt. When I was eleven, I was transferred to St. Jude’s Children’s Home. And there, under the huge old oak tree, I saw a boy in a white shirt, quietly reading a book. The wind lifted the hair on his forehead and the hem of his shirt. That was Leo. The fresh scent of grass and trees filled the air – the smell of early April, when everything starts growing. That first meeting seemed to seal our fate. Two kids with no one else in the world, instantly connected. We held hands, stumbling along life’s path together. It was tough, but we finally made it through, saw the clouds break. But the sun didn’t shine on us. That night, the headlights flashed and swayed. Amidst the screeching metal and shattering glass, I couldn’t reach his warm face anymore. The howling wind and snow of that Upstate New York winter sounded like wolves in the night, battering my ears. I screamed his name, cried until I couldn’t breathe, but he never answered. My world went dark that day. There were no more sunny days after that. The memories are like a beautiful, haunting dream you can never forget. But waking up is like falling into a bottomless pit of dark agony. … The lamp was still on, casting a pale light on the living room sofa. Everything felt cold. I had lost the one person I wanted to keep most in the world. Sometimes, I really envy Ethan. The person he loves is still alive, walking this earth. But me? It’s different for me. Even if I do terrible things, use every trick in the book, all I have is a man wearing the face of the one I loved. What I truly possessed was torn to shreds long ago, scattered across time and space. I can barely recall his familiar smile clearly anymore. Only in dreams do those eyes reappear – eyes that made my heart tremble, flooding me with emotions – only then can I see them distinctly. I know perfectly well that Ethan is just Ethan. But it’s like I need to hold onto even the smallest scrap of Leo, and that makes me want to be near Ethan. Their personalities are completely different. Maybe the only way to recapture that feeling is to dress Ethan in Leo’s old clothes, make him mimic Leo’s mannerisms. As the thought hit me, my fingers tapping on the table stopped. A smile slowly spread across my face, growing wider and wider. Of course. I should have thought of it sooner. Make Ethan imitate Leo, bit by bit, until he becomes a perfect replica. A low chuckle rumbled in my throat, then sharpened. My mind raced, plans clicking into place, one after another. Just then, Ethan appeared in the shadows, watching me silently. I offered him my most harmless, innocent smile. After seven long years, it felt like our story was only just beginning. My eyes shone with a gentle, expectant light as I slowly cupped Ethan’s face. “Honey, you’re back?” 4 Time ticked by, and I kept up the act of the frail, sick woman for Ethan. In the mirror, I saw a pale face, lips the only trace of color – a delicate little thing. Even I felt a pang of pity looking at her. I had already tucked the forged bone cancer diagnosis into my purse. When Ethan would find it was just a matter of luck. Sure enough, about two weeks later, Ethan brought a woman home. Sophia. She was elegant, beautiful, like the moon in the sky, carrying an air of being somehow above the everyday grind. She actually looked a bit like me, but the lower half of her face had its own distinct style, giving her an overall look of refined, cool beauty. I didn’t pay her much mind. She wasn’t my real rival, after all. But I still put on my A-game performance as the pitiful victim. My eyes were slightly red-rimmed, my lips trembled trying to form a smile, a palpable air of weakness clung to me. My eyes crinkled, full of sadness, as I spoke softly to her. “Miss Sophia, you’re back. We’ve been expecting you for a long time.” Women understand women. Seeing me like this, Sophia immediately filled in the blanks, imagining all the abuse and humiliation I must have suffered here. A man who could treat his own wife so cruelly must have a truly rotten character. Step one: accomplished. A real smile touched my lips now. I quickly took Sophia’s arm, leading her into our living room where the soft light from the crystal chandelier fell on her. I opened my mouth to say something, but then I met Ethan’s cold gaze. I flinched, pulling my hand away from Sophia’s. Unlike Ethan, Sophia noticed subtle things. Her heart was sharp. She saw my small movement. She spoke up immediately. “Clara, if you have something to say, just say it. Don’t worry about anything else.” I wrung my hands, then forced a bright, cheerful smile. “Miss Sophia, of course not. I don’t really have anything I wanted to say.” After saying this, I acted like I suddenly had a million things to do. “You two haven’t seen each other in years, you should catch up properly. I’ll go make some snacks, cut up some fruit.” Ethan seemed pleased by my tactfulness. But he didn’t notice Sophia’s gaze turning colder, her eyes filling with disgust as she looked at him. Inside, I was laughing mockingly, but my face remained the picture of the meek, obedient wife as I retreated. This was exactly what I wanted: for Sophia to form a negative impression of Ethan. Ethan’s predatory nature would revolt Sophia, a woman accustomed to high status and respect. Seeing me, someone who resembled her, treated this way would only intensify her disgust. Sophia would realize Ethan saw her as a possession, an object. A desire that was vulgar, cheap, and repulsive. In the reflection from the kitchen window, I watched Sophia’s expression grow increasingly annoyed, as if the very sofa she sat on was coated in something sticky and vile. She couldn't stand sitting there much longer. I almost burst out laughing. And sure enough, when I brought the fruit platter into the living room, Sophia immediately grabbed her bag and stood up, brushing off her expensive coat as if it had been contaminated by the sofa. It seemed she had only been politely waiting for me before making her escape. "Miss Clara," she said, her tone clipped, "I should be going. Take care." With that cold farewell, she turned to leave. Behind her, Ethan’s voice rang out, urgent and pleading. “Sophia, don’t go! We haven’t seen each other in so long…” Smack! With a sharp sound, Sophia threw the coat, worth thousands, onto our floor. It was as if Ethan’s words alone made the coat unbearable to her. I’d done my homework. This woman had serious issues with cleanliness, both physical and emotional. Knowing that, I honestly wondered how Ethan still had the nerve to pursue her. The heartbroken, disbelieving look on Ethan’s face was both pitiful and hilarious. Pitiful because seeing that expression on Leo’s face made me want to hug him, kiss him, just for a second. Hilarious because Ethan was such an idiot. Sophia, now clutching her purse, had shifted into attack mode. She pointed a finger at Ethan, all her previous composure gone. “Look at you! Thinking you’re hot stuff when you’re just… pathetic! Have you even looked in a mirror? Who the hell would be blind enough to fall for you? Fine, fantasize all you want alone, but dragging me into it? Parading around like some desperate clown and expecting applause? You’re disgusting. You have the social grace of a dumpster fire. Your parents are such elegant people; you must be their cosmic punishment!” Finished, she clicked away on her heels, each step sharp yet somehow still graceful, heading straight for the door. Just before opening it, she turned and delivered her final shot. “Ugh. Spits.” (Okay, she didn't actually spit, but the sound was implied).
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