On my second day after transferring to the County Clerk’s Marriage License Bureau, I took over a colleague’s desk. A young woman had come in to request a replacement marriage certificate. My colleague leaned over and whispered, "This is the 99th time this girl has come in for a replacement! We have her files backed up, so it'll be quick." I froze. "99 times?" My colleague laughed. "Yeah. The little brat married a rich older guy. Whenever they get into a fight, she loves to tear up their marriage certificate to throw a tantrum." "Only an older man would put up with that kind of childish behavior. Word is her husband is the wealthiest man in the state, from the Sinclair family!" Instantly, my brow furrowed. "The Sinclair family prides itself on being low-key and humble. Are you sure her husband isn't a fraud?" My colleague looked terrified and slapped a hand over my mouth. "Girl, keep your voice down! That is the legitimate head of the Sinclair empire—Arthur Sinclair." I sat there, stunned. My phone slipped from my hand and clattered onto the desk. On the lit screen was my lock screen wallpaper: a photo of Arthur Sinclair and me, cuddled close together. The young woman in front of the desk suddenly changed her expression. She snatched my phone right off the table. "Who are you? Why do you have a picture with my husband?" ... I opened my mouth, but my throat felt completely blocked. She said my husband. But the man in that photo was the husband I had been married to for five years. The Sinclair family was a massive, sprawling dynasty with deep-rooted power. Because of that, our marriage was kept a secret. He told me that keeping it hidden was to protect me. He said his business was too high-profile, and he was terrified the media would harass me. I believed him. And I kept believing him for five whole years. I never expected that, in the end, I was the punchline to a sick joke. The young girl’s face flushed red with fury. "I've seen plenty of women like you! The second you see a wealthy man, you throw yourselves at him like your life depends on it, ruining other people's families! And you have the nerve to work at the Marriage Bureau? I’m going to file a complaint! I’ll get you fired!" My colleague hurried over to smooth things out. "Ms. Harper, please calm down, there has to be a misunderstanding..." "What misunderstanding? The photo is right there!" I took a deep breath, took my phone back, and spoke with surprising calmness. "It is a misunderstanding. I used to work in a neighboring city as a journalist. I interviewed Mr. Sinclair and asked for a photo together. That’s all." Hailey Harper stared at me, skeptical. "An interview?" "Yes. For work." She studied my face for a few seconds before her expression gradually relaxed. "Oh... I'm sorry then, my mistake." She let out a small laugh. "It's just that my husband is so successful, there are always women trying to climb into his bed. I have to keep my guard up." I forced a smile. "It's fine." "So, about my replacement certificate..." "Your file is missing your original birth certificate," I said. "You'll have to go back and get it." Hailey frowned. "My house is close by. I'll just run back and grab it." "I can go with you," I said, standing up. "I can just take a picture of it on my tablet and upload it directly so you don't have to make another trip down here." She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, let's go." I followed her out of the city hall building. She drove a brand-new white Porsche. The interior was a sickly sweet, overwhelmingly girly pink. Twenty minutes later, the car pulled up to the gates of a very familiar luxury condo complex. It wasn't until we went upstairs and stood in front of the door to the unit that my heart skipped a beat. Because I knew this condo intimately. Two years ago, when we got married, I used all my pre-marital savings to put the down payment on this exact place as our marital home. I knew the Sinclair family was incredibly wealthy and probably looked down on this modest condo, but I just wanted to prove that I wasn't with him for his money. At the time, Arthur said his company was facing cash flow issues. He suggested we keep the marriage quiet and wait to hold the wedding until his finances freed up. I understood, and I supported him. Later, when his company's cash flow recovered, he never brought up the wedding or this condo again. I asked him about it a few times, and he told me he had rented it out. I did receive rent money, transferred into my account right on time every single month, so I never once thought to come check on the place. Standing in the entryway, I looked into the living room and saw a massive wedding portrait hanging dead center on the wall. In the photo, Arthur wore a crisp white tuxedo, and the woman beside him wore a long, trailing bridal gown, smiling sweetly. "Come in, have a seat," Hailey called out. I stepped inside. My feet felt like they were sinking into cotton. In five years of marriage, Arthur never gave me a wedding. He never took a wedding photo with me. Our only photo together was that tourist selfie I had practically begged him to take. In it, he stood next to me looking as stiff as a stranger. Yet here, a massive portrait of him and his bride hung on the wall. It was six feet tall, framed in gold, and facing the sofa for everyone to see. "Your home is very cozy," I said, forcing the corners of my mouth up. She beamed. "I actually thought the wedding photo was way too big, a bit tacky even. But my husband insisted. He said he wanted everyone who walks in to know that I am his wife." "He... treats you well." "He's alright," she said, feigning modesty, though her eyes were shining with triumph. "Take a seat, I'll go find my birth certificate." I sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the wedding photo. Arthur’s smile was so gentle. It was a tenderness I had never once seen directed at me. It turned out he didn't hate taking pictures. He just hated taking them with me. Hailey rummaged around for a while before coming back out empty-handed. "Weird, my documents aren't here." She picked up her phone. "Let me call hubby." The call connected, and she put it on speaker. "Hubby, where did you put my birth certificate? I'm at the clerk's office trying to replace our marriage license and I can't find it." Arthur's voice floated through the speaker, so full of indulgence it made my stomach churn. "You tore it up again? Honestly, you're a mother now, why do you still have such a child's temper?" She whined affectionately, "So where did you put it?" "I have it with me. I was out looking at new houses for you today, so I happened to have your files in my briefcase. I'll bring it to you soon." "Well hurry up, I have someone waiting at the house." "Got it. Did you buy the baby formula?" "Yes, yes, the brand you mentioned last time." "Good girl. Wait for me." She hung up, smiling like the happiest woman in the world. "My husband will be right back, sorry to keep you waiting. Oh! Let me show you my son!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the bedrooms. "He's six months old and absolutely adorable." I let her drag me to the nursery, completely numb, only snapping back to reality when we crossed the threshold. In the nursery, a chubby, fair-skinned baby boy lay fast asleep in his crib. Hailey leaned over the railing, her face overflowing with maternal love. "Isn't he cute? My husband says he looks just like me." I stood there, a terrifying coldness seeping into my bones. They had a child. Arthur and I had been married for five years. Six months ago, I had finally gotten pregnant. At seven months, I suffered complications. They told me I needed an emergency induced labor, and that the baby didn't make it. After that traumatic loss, he told me we should focus on his career and hold off on trying again. I thought he was just trying to spare my feelings. I never questioned it. It turned out he didn't not want a child. He just didn't want me to be the mother. "What's his name?" I asked. Hailey's smile grew even sweeter. "Grayson. My husband picked it out. He said he loved the sound of it." A bomb went off in my head. Grayson. That was the name Arthur and I had picked out together. When I first got pregnant, he said we needed a meaningful name. My middle name is Grace. He said "Grayson" was perfect—literally Grace's son. A tribute to me. "Does the name... have any special meaning?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. Hailey let out a dramatic sigh. "My husband's late wife... her middle name was Grace. She had a terribly difficult labor, and neither she nor the baby survived. He chose this name to honor her." I stared at her, the bitter taste in my mouth so strong I couldn't speak. Hailey's tone suddenly dropped, laced with insecurity. "Every time we fight, I tear up the marriage certificate. Please don't think I'm just petty. The truth is, I'm terrified deep down." "He is so deeply attached to his dead wife. What does that mean for anyone else? What if one day he just..." She trailed off. I stood by the crib, staring at the sleeping infant, a storm raging in my chest. If the baby I lost at seven months had lived, he would be exactly this big right now. "He told you his ex-wife died in childbirth?" Hailey offered a sad smile. "Yeah. The whole thing devastated him. It took him years to recover. It wasn't until he met me that he slowly started to heal. Sometimes I think it must be fate... I kind of look like her." I looked at her face. She looked absolutely nothing like me. If we had to share one common trait, it was that we were both utter fools. "Does he treat you well normally?" I asked. Her eyes lit up. "Of course, he's wonderful, just incredibly busy. But he promised me that in a few years, he's going to hand the company over to a board and take me around the world." I nodded slowly. He told me the exact same thing. Five years ago. I stood in the nursery for another moment, my mind chillingly clear. "I don't see a memorial or an urn for his late wife anywhere?" Hailey scoffed gently. "You care about that stuff? I asked him about it once. He said when someone is gone, they're gone. As long as they live in your heart, you don't need all those physical formalities." I lowered my eyes. As long as they live in your heart. What profoundly touching words. Then where exactly did the child I lost at seven months live? I uncurled my tightly clenched fists, leaving deep crescent-moon indentations in my palms. "I have one more question for you." "Hm?" "Your family is so incredibly wealthy. Why live in such an ordinary condo?" Hailey laughed. "I demanded it! My husband is too rich. He's so rich that his mansions don't even feel like human homes. I made him buy this place in a normal neighborhood so we could live like a regular family." She pointed at the decorations on the walls. "See? I decorated all of this myself. He hated it at first, but he grew to love it. He says this place actually feels like a home." "Your husband bought this place for you?" "Yep. He bought it as a gift." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I had my own selfish reasons. If he ever decides he doesn't want me anymore, I won't be left out on the street. He promised me this house is mine forever."
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