He Tried to Steal My Life

But three days later, I ended up locked out.

It's kind of funny when you think about it.

It was my biological parents' house, yet I didn't even have a key.

I waited outside for an hour before my father finally showed up.

When he saw me, he looked surprised.

"Leo? How long have you been standing out here? Sorry if I kept you waiting. Mr. Trivett invited us to dinner. We had to show him some respect."

Behind him, Duncan was following closely beside a middle-aged gentleman, looking especially attentive.

The man looked me up and down.

"So you're Leo. I heard your fiancée looks exactly like my daughter, Chelsea, so I came to see for myself. Where is she?"

Duncan covered his mouth and laughed lightly, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Mr. Trivett, you're just too kind to believe something like that. It's only been three days. Even if he wanted to hire someone to get plastic surgery to look like Chelsea, there wouldn't have been enough time."

I calmly took a sip of tea. "Irene had to fly to Crowston yesterday for a meeting. She'll come straight here after she lands."

My father's eyes lit up instantly. "Sounds like she's busy. What does she do?"

Irene had always kept a low profile. Other than knowing she owned several companies, I didn't really know what she did day to day.

"She works at her family's company. They're the Nelsons."

The others exchanged glances and laughed.

"The Nelsons? Never heard of them. Did you forget to make up the background story, too?"

Right then, the doorbell rang.

For a brief second, I almost rushed forward, ready to pull the person at the door into my arms.

But when I saw the lilies in her hand and noticed the small beauty mark under her eye was gone, I realized immediately that this wasn't Irene.

I was allergic to lilies. She would never forget that.

"Am I late?" the woman asked.

"No," Duncan said with a smile. "Perfect timing."

He took the flowers and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

Chelsea touched her ear shyly. The little habit looked exactly like Irene's.

Chelsea's eyes lingered on me longer than they should have.

Duncan quickly stepped in front of me. "Well? My fiancée is here. Where's yours? Or did seeing Chelsea in person scare your actress away?"

My phone had no new messages. Her phone was still off.

A quiet doubt began creeping into my mind.

Were they really not the same person?

Suddenly, the doorbell rang again.

I hurried over and opened the door, hope rising in my chest.

Instead, a line of local delivery workers stood outside. One after another, they carried gift boxes inside. Within minutes, the living room was piled high.

"Sorry," one of them said politely. "Ms. Nelson had an urgent matter come up. She couldn't make it today. These gifts are meant as her apology."

Duncan burst out laughing on the spot. "You think spending a little money will make us believe you? Leo, you're really making a fool of yourself!"

Samuel Trivett picked up his briefcase.

"Well, I've seen enough of this show."

He turned to my father, his expression sharp with warning.

"If your son has mental issues, take him to see a doctor. If he's that desperate to get married, he can go find some older woman. But if he keeps pulling nonsense like this, it will only embarrass the Trivetts."

In the end, my father walked him out the door almost deferentially, smiling nervously the whole way.

When he came back, I was already leaving.

"I wish you had died out there back then," he said to me, cold and expressionless.