Part 1 I divorced my uncle's commanding officer. It was ugly. He shielded the new female combat medic while I hurled three heavy glass ashtrays at them, and he responded by kicking me down a flight of stairs, causing me to lose my seven-month pregnancy. I left. I remarried. Life was quiet and mundane. Slowly, it smoothed over the madness and rage of those years. Until one evening, at a reunion of my current husband's platoon, one of his drunk army buddies mistook me for someone else. "Chloe, back then you thought Mark was too poor. You took all his severance pay and ran off to Europe. He had red eyes and swore he’d put a bullet in you, but in the end, he actually married you." "I guess that's the power of the one that got away." That was the exact moment I realized why Mark had fallen in love with me at first sight. It was because I was a stand-in. In an instant, my mind snapped back to my ex-husband. … I turned my head to look at Mark sitting beside me. His jaw was tight as he explained, "He’s drunk and talking nonsense. Are you really going to believe him?" The buddy stubbornly stuck his neck out. "The hell I'm talking nonsense!" "I still remember the night you guys broke up. You cried the entire night..." Mark violently stood up, slamming his fist onto the table. "Shut the hell up!" The buddy sobered up halfway, his gaze lingering on my face for a long time. From his complex expression, I guessed everything. No wonder the youngest brigadier general on the base fell in love at first sight with a divorced woman like me. No wonder he never let me cut my hair short and always liked me to wear white summer dresses. No wonder he unconditionally tolerated all my little temper tantrums. Turns out, before me, he had an unforgettable college sweetheart from the military academy. I picked up my coat and stood up to leave. My wrist was violently grabbed. It didn't hurt, but it felt sickening. I yanked my hand free and backhanded Mark across the face. The private dining room instantly became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Just as I was about to walk out, a woman in a white dress pushed the door open with a bright smile. One look, and I knew she was Mark's first love. The same white dress. The same long, straight black hair. Chloe noticed me too. A glimmer of understanding slowly surfaced in her eyes. I bit my lip in humiliation, my fingernails digging hard into my palms. Chloe brushed past me and greeted Mark with familiar ease. "New girlfriend?" "She looks so much like me. Don't tell me you're still hung up on me?" Mark's face grew even darker. "This is my wife. Watch what you say!" She lowered her head, her voice starting to tremble. "I didn't know you were married. Why are you yelling at me?" Mark instinctively crouched down slightly, his tone becoming panicked. "Don't cry. I'm sorry..." Before he could finish, Chloe covered her mouth and giggled. "Haven't seen you in three or four years, and you're still so easy to fool." Mark ground his back teeth. "Chloe!" He was annoyed; she was laughing. The other guys at the table watched the scene as if it were the most normal thing in the world. I couldn't take it anymore and slammed the door behind me. From behind the door, I heard Chloe's malicious teasing. "Aren't you going to chase her?" My footsteps paused. But I heard the man's cold, indifferent reply. "Her temper isn't as bad as yours. She's easy to coax." Part 2 I don't remember how I got home. As soon as I walked through the door, the wedding photo hanging in the living room was blindingly painful to look at. When Mark told me it was love at first sight, I didn't believe him. After all, my ex-husband—my uncle's commanding officer, a man I had known for over twenty years—had betrayed me. Let alone a stranger I had only met once. But after the messy divorce with my ex, Arthur, my parents took their anger out on me and froze my bank accounts. Because I didn't have hard evidence of Arthur's infidelity, rumors ran wild on the base, painting me as a dramatic, high-maintenance brat. The other military wives my age were just waiting to see me become a joke. Everyone said I would never find a better husband than Arthur. I didn't believe them. I was determined to prove them wrong. And luckily, I bet correctly on Mark, a rising star. His devotion to me allowed me to make a beautiful comeback. Those who mocked me for throwing away gold for copper were forced to shut their mouths. But it wasn't until tonight that I realized his so-called "love at first sight" was built entirely on the lingering feelings for his first love. My stomach started to churn. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up violently. When I came out, I walked into the home office—a room I rarely entered. Among a pile of military theory books, a battered old notebook stood out. With trembling hands, I opened it. A photograph fell out. Mark, in his uniform, was looking at the girl beside him with eyes full of deep devotion. The man I remembered as being incredibly calm even while executing covert operations was, in his diary, just an ordinary guy who got jealous and heartbroken. [She said staying with me was a dead end. She wants to break up and move to Europe.] [I said no, but she left anyway. She took all my severance pay with her.] [That heartless woman. When she comes back, I'm going to make her wish she was dead.] The ink on this page was smeared by water stains, the paper crinkled. I turned the page. [I met a woman who looks exactly like her.] [The day we got our marriage license, I texted her.] [If she comes back, I'll marry her.] [She didn't show up. I'm not waiting for her anymore.] My vision blurred. So, while I was excitedly planning our wedding, Mark was waiting for another woman to crash it. The sound of keys turning in the lock echoed from the front door. I didn't move. Until Mark rushed into the room. Seeing the diary in my hands, his voice dropped to freezing temperatures. "Who told you to touch my things? Give it back." The day he proposed, Mark did it to give me peace of mind. He voluntarily handed over his salary cards and put my name on the deed to the house. After we married, he was completely transparent with me. No passcodes on his phone, real-time updates on his whereabouts. But now, just because I touched something related to Chloe, he was panicking. I sneered. "If your heart is already occupied, why are you afraid of me looking?" He didn't answer, just reached out to snatch it. I gripped it tightly, refusing to let go. He started prying my fingers open, one by one. My knuckles popped. I went pale from the pain and violently threw the diary at his chest. "If you love your first love so much, why did you marry me?" He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "That's all in the past. Stop being unreasonable." "Then look me in the eye and tell me you married me because you love me." I didn't look away, staring straight at him. Mark's Adam's apple bobbed. His eyes flickered away for a second. The next second, he let out a cold laugh born of humiliation and anger. "You want the truth?" "Fine. I'll tell you." "I married you because you look like her." "But haven't I treated you well enough these past three years?" It was precisely because he treated me too well. So well that I thought he indulged me because he loved me. But what was the reality? Arthur loved the new and threw away the old. Mark was nostalgic. But the person he was nostalgic for, the person he loved, was always his first love. Watching him carefully put the diary away, I only felt a sickening sense of irony. "Mark. Let's get a divorce." Part 3 Mark's movements paused, his tone impatient. "Evelyn, can you stop throwing a tantrum?" "As my wife, who on this base doesn't treat you with respect?" "Throwing a fit about divorce now will only make us a laughingstock." Those words sounded incredibly familiar. When I was divorcing Arthur, he said the exact same things. He said he just had "a little crush" on the female combat medic. He said there was no physical cheating, told me to stop making a scene. But I refused to be with a man who had someone else in his heart. If I could leave Arthur back then, I could definitely leave Mark now. "Tomorrow morning, 9 AM. At the courthouse." After saying that, I turned to walk past him. Mark grabbed my shoulder. "Evelyn, don't be so childish." "Nobody wants to marry a woman on her third marriage who's had a miscarriage." I suddenly couldn't see the man in front of me clearly. When I cried and told him about my past with Arthur, he had held me tightly, saying he wished he had met me sooner. Perhaps the heartbreak in my eyes was too obvious. Mark's tone softened slightly. "I'm sorry, I was just..." Before he could finish, his phone rang. I glanced down. No caller ID saved. Mark hesitated, but ultimately chose to answer. "Arrested for a DUI? I'm not coming to bail you out." "When you took all my money and ran off to Europe, you didn't care about my situation either!" Every word was laced with disdain, yet every syllable betrayed how much he cared. Even though I had just demanded a divorce a second ago, it wasn't as important as a phone call from Chloe. Seeing how desperate he was to go bail her out, the corner of my mouth twitched. "In such a rush to see your old flame? At least let's finalize the divorce details." Mark frowned deeply. "Don't overthink this." "She just got back to the States. She doesn't know anyone here." "I'm her ex-boyfriend, after all. I'm just doing her a favor." He grabbed his car keys and hurried out the door. After the door slammed shut, I was left alone in the study. I went back to the bedroom and started packing my things. Not long after, a friend request popped up on my phone. The profile picture was a simple doodle of a kitten. Mark's profile picture was a military working dog. After all this time, he still couldn't bear to change his matching couple profile picture. After accepting the request, Chloe didn't send a single message. I clicked on her social media feed and saw a completely different Mark. He would let a woman draw all over his face with lipstick; He would go to the shooting range with her and take those cheesy couple photos; He would even cook for her, making hot cocoa when she had cramps. These posts were from three years ago. Before Mark even met me. Just then, Chloe posted a new update. [The bad girl gets everything.] The location tag was the base’s guest lodge. The photo attached was of two hands with interlocked fingers, clearly taken post-coitus. The man wasn't wearing a wedding ring. But there was a pale indent on his ring finger. Mark couldn't even wait out the mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period for the divorce. I bit my lip until it bled. In a moment of pure impulse, I called an Uber and headed straight to the guest lodge. The front desk refused to give me the room number. So I searched room by room. Apologizing over and over again. When I reached the very last door, I couldn't bring myself to knock. What was the point of catching them in the act? Have a screaming match like a hysterical banshee? And become the laughingstock of the base all over again? After a moment of hesitation, I didn't knock on that door. I went home, dead inside. I consulted a divorce lawyer about the process, then fell into a heavy sleep. But early the next morning, I woke up to find myself trending: Woman Caught Sneaking into Guest Lodge for Midnight Rendezvous with Ex-Husband. Part 4 Before I was fully awake, an enraged Mark yanked me out of bed. He shoved his phone in my face. The picture showed me standing outside the guest lodge, looking anxious. "Evelyn, running back to let your ex screw you—do you have no shame?!" My head was spinning, but I instinctively fired back. "I haven't even seen Arthur." "But what about you? Weren't you also at the guest lodge last night?" A flash of panic crossed Mark's eyes, quickly covered up by furious indignation. "Nothing happened between me and her!" "But what the hell is this midnight rendezvous with Arthur?" I let out a bitter laugh, deciding to just lean into his accusation. "Then just assume I went to see him." Seeing his pupils shrink in shock brought a twisted sense of vindictive pleasure. "I didn't just see him. I told him I regretted divorcing him." "Because no matter how garbage he was, he never treated me as a stand-in." Mark's breathing instantly grew heavy, his fingers digging into my shoulders turning white. "You think I don't regret it?" "No matter what Chloe did to me, she was never touched by another man." "I married used goods for my first marriage. Do you have any idea how many people talk behind my back?" A sharp smack echoed in the room. My palm stung. Mark's head jerked to the side, violent red veins instantly flooding his eyes. He raised his hand to hit me back, but froze mid-air. I tilted my chin up. "Hit me!" "If you have the guts, hit me back!" Mark stared at me for a long time. Suddenly, he reached out and dragged me all the way into the bathroom. He turned the tub on full blast with freezing cold water. Ignoring my struggles, he forced my head under the icy water. "Cough... Mark! You're crazy!" He scrubbed violently at my skin. "Evelyn, I don't hit women, but that doesn't mean I don't have a temper." "This is your one and only warning. I never want to see you contact your ex-husband again." The icy water cut to the bone, but it was a fraction of the chill in my heart. "Mark, what gives you the right to be such a hypocrite?" "You and Chloe were alone in a hotel room last night. You expect me to believe nothing happened?" He held me down in the tub, his voice dark. "You don't have the right to question my business!" Water rushed into my nose. Panic and suffocation set in instantly. Just as I thought I was actually going to die by his hands, the pressure on my head suddenly vanished. I shot up, gasping desperately for air. Mark looked down at me from above. "You stay in here and think about what you've done." I scrambled up, instinctively trying to run out. But I was locked inside the bathroom. "Mark, you can't do this to me! Let me out!" Through the door came his cold voice. "I'll let you out when you realize you were wrong." A sudden, violent cramp ripped through my lower abdomen. A warm stream of liquid slid down my inner thigh. With trembling hands, I reached down. My fingertips came back covered in a horrifying crimson. "Mark... my stomach hurts. Let me out..." I weakly pounded on the door, my voice trembling uncontrollably. Footsteps approached. Just as I thought he was going to open the door, I heard a scoff. "Evelyn, the lengths you'll go to just to get me to open this door." "Faking sick this time. Are you going to fake your death next?" The red pooling beneath me grew darker. Scalding tears mixed with the bathwater on my face. I had never been so terrified in my life. Even when I miscarried Arthur's child, it happened in a hospital under anesthesia. Now, I was watching my own child dissolve into a pool of blood with my own eyes. "Mark, I'm not lying." "I'm having a miscarriage. Please... take me to the hospital." The silence outside the door lasted only a second. "Evelyn, do you think I'm an idiot?" "You miscarried before. The doctors said it would be nearly impossible for you to ever get pregnant again!" "And even if you are pregnant, I have no intention of keeping that bastard child." It felt like a knife plunged straight into my heart. Even drawing breath brought a dull, agonizing pain. I couldn't hold on any longer, and I slipped completely into darkness. Part 5 When I woke up, the sharp scent of hospital disinfectant assaulted my nose. I instinctively reached for my stomach. It was flat and empty. "You're awake?" A cold voice echoed near the bed. I turned my head and saw my ex-husband, whom I hadn't seen in three years. Arthur was wearing a black trench coat. He had blue stubble on his chin and his eyes were completely bloodshot, looking like he hadn't slept a wink. He handed me a cup of warm water, his movements clumsy but careful. "Drink some." My throat was incredibly dry, my voice sounding like sandpaper. "Why are you here?" Arthur licked his lips. "I've been keeping tabs on you all these years." "I came to LA for business a few days ago, and I saw the tabloid gossip about you and me." "I hadn't even seen you. There was no 'midnight rendezvous.'" "I was worried, so I went to find you." "But you wouldn't answer your phone or messages, and the lights in your house were off." "So I had someone break the door down. And I found you unconscious in the bathroom, surrounded by blood." Arthur's tone grew vicious. "You left me, just to end up with a piece of trash like that?" "The doctor said... because you were submerged in freezing water for so long, and under extreme emotional distress, the baby couldn't be saved." "Your body suffered severe trauma. It's highly unlikely you'll ever be able to conceive again." Hearing him say all this, I felt absolutely nothing. It was exactly what I expected. I turned my head, looked at the green leaves outside the window, and softly said, "Thank you." Arthur violently grabbed my hand, his eyes burning red. "Evelyn, do we really need to say 'thank you' to each other?" "I was too young back then. I couldn't handle temptation." "But Mark went way further than I ever did. Are you seriously going to stay with him?" "Come back to New York with me. I swear, from now on, I will only ever be devoted to you." "This time, I will never let you suffer." Hearing these solemn promises left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. This man was the love of my youth. Then he became the ex-husband I hated to my core. And now, when the whole world had abandoned me, he was the only one standing by my side. But two catastrophic marriages had broken me. And finally snapped me completely awake. I didn't want Mark, and I didn't want him. I wanted neither of them. I coldly pulled my hand away. "I'm tired. I want to rest." Arthur's eyes dimmed for a second, then he nodded. "Okay, get some sleep. I'll be right outside." "As long as I'm here, nobody is coming in to hurt you." I slept very deeply. When I woke up, it was already late afternoon. The moment I opened my eyes, a nurse ran in, looking panicked. "Mr. Thorne! We have a problem! Mr. Sterling brought his men to lock down the floor and is forcing his way in!" Arthur stood in front of the hospital bed, letting out a cold laugh. "Perfect timing. I've been looking for him." Before he even finished speaking, the hospital room door was violently shoved open. Mark strode in. He was flanked by several military police guards, and behind him stood Chloe in her white dress. Seeing that I was awake, a flash of joy crossed Mark's eyes. But it was quickly replaced by an unnatural stiffness. "You just got a little wet with cold water. Why are you in the hospital? Do you still have a fever?" He walked toward the bed, reaching out to feel my forehead. But Arthur swatted his hand away. "Keep your dirty hands off her." Mark frowned deeply, looking at Arthur with intense irritation. "This is my wife. I'm taking care of her. It's none of an outsider's business." He turned back to me, his tone carrying a hint of accusation. "Evelyn, you took it too far this time." "Do you have any idea what people on the base are saying about you and Arthur?" "Everyone is laughing at me, calling me a coward for letting my wife cheat on me right under my nose." "I know you're angry, but absolutely nothing happened between me and Chloe." "Did you really have to invent a fake pregnancy just to humiliate me?"
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