The Substitute Wife’s Second Chance

The wind whipped saltwater against my face. I stood at the edge of the wooden pier, wrapping my coat tighter around my empty stomach. My baby was dead. The doctors had wheeled me out of the hospital this morning, handing me a stack of discharge papers instead of a child.

Footsteps sounded on the planks behind me.

"Victoria," a male voice called out.

I turned. It wasn't my husband. It was Mark, Daniel's assistant. He held a thick manila envelope against his chest, shielding it from the misty sea breeze.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Mr. Miller is at the office," Mark replied. He extended the envelope toward me. "He asked me to bring you these."

"Divorce papers," I stated. I kept my hands in my pockets.

"He already signed his portion." Mark shifted his weight. "He said there is no need to drag this out."

I stared at the brown paper. "I built a multi-million dollar beauty brand from scratch. I had distribution contracts with top retailers. I threw it all away."

"People change careers," Mark offered weakly.

"I didn't change careers," I snapped. "I walked away from a Sephora deal for him. I shut down my entire cosmetics lab. I fired my best friend. I locked myself in his mansion to be the perfect wife, all while he used me to recreate his dead girlfriend's tragedy."

"Mr. Miller compensated your staff," Mark countered, his tone defensive. "He gave you a comfortable life. You never had to work another day."

"I never wanted to be a kept woman. I wanted to be a partner!"

My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. Then it buzzed again. And again.

*Ping. Ping. Ping.*

I pulled the device out. A flood of notifications lit up the screen. They were messages from an automated company number. I opened the first one.

It was a photo of Daniel kissing Zoe's cheek on a sailboat. Below it, a screenshot of an old text thread.

*Zoe, you are my only forever.*

Another picture loaded. Daniel standing over Zoe's grave, holding the exact same sapphire necklace he gave me for our first wedding anniversary.

"Who is sending these?" I demanded, shoving the screen toward Mark.

Mark glanced at the phone and quickly looked down at his shoes. "The IT department. Mr. Miller ordered Zoe's digital memorial to be broadcast to his private network today. Your number is still on the administrative list."

A harsh, jagged laugh tore from my throat. I didn't cry. The tears were completely gone, replaced by a burning, furious amusement.

"He couldn't wait one day," I said, my voice echoing over the crashing waves.

"Give me a pen," I ordered.

Mark hurriedly pulled a silver fountain pen from his jacket.

I snatched the envelope from him, pressed it against the damp wooden railing, and slashed my name across the bottom line. I didn't read the terms. I didn't care about the money or the assets.

I shoved the folder back into his chest. "Tell him he can keep the house."

I dialed Daniel's number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Did you sign them?" Daniel's voice crackled through the speaker, devoid of any warmth.

"I saw the photos," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the gray horizon. "The digital memorial. The cloud backups. The necklace."

"Then you understand why this is necessary," he replied. "The settlement is generous. You will be taken care of."

My eyes burned red, but a wide smile stretched across my face.

"Daniel," I said, my voice cutting through the roar of the ocean. "This time, I am the one abandoning you."

I didn't wait for his response. I ended the call and hurled the phone into the churning water below.

"Goodbye, Mark," I said.

Mark turned and hurried down the pier, eager to escape the gathering storm.

Lightning fractured the sky. Rain began to slam into the pier, turning the wooden boards slick and treacherous.

I took a step toward the shore. My heel slid on a patch of wet algae.

My arms flailed, grasping for the safety railing. My fingers brushed the wet metal, but I missed.

Gravity yanked me backward. The freezing ocean rushed up to meet me. Saltwater flooded my mouth, choking my screams instantly. The heavy winter coat dragged me down into the suffocating darkness.

***

Air punched into my lungs. I bolted upright, gasping and clawing at my throat.

"Hey! Are you okay?" a bright voice asked.

I blinked against the sudden, warm light. I wasn't drowning. I wasn't in the hospital. I wasn't at the beach.

I was sitting on the worn velvet sofa in my old starter apartment.

My best friend and business partner, Chloe, stood over me holding a makeup brush.

"You totally spaced out," Chloe said, waving the brush in my face. "We have the launch party for the new lip-gloss line in an hour. You need to get dressed."

"Launch party?" I whispered. My voice wasn't raw anymore. My stomach didn't ache.

I pushed past her and stumbled into the cramped bathroom. I gripped the edges of the porcelain sink and stared into the mirror.

Round cheeks. Bright skin. No dark circles under my eyes. I looked twenty-two.

"Victoria, seriously, what is wrong with you?" Chloe called from the living room. "Did the flowers freak you out?"

I walked back out. On the glass coffee table sat a massive arrangement of red roses.

I knew those roses. Seven years ago. The night of my first major product launch. The night Daniel Miller walked into my life.

I walked over to the table and reached into the velvet petals. I pulled out the small, gold-embossed card.

*To Victoria. Let me take you to dinner. - Daniel.*

My hands didn't shake. The crushing despair from the pier evaporated, leaving behind a cold, sharp clarity.

I looked at the flowers, then at Chloe.

"Throw them in the trash," I said.

Chloe's jaw dropped. "Are you insane? Do you know how much a bouquet like this costs? And it's from Daniel Miller! The tech billionaire!"

"I don't care who he is," I replied.

"He is the biggest investor in the city," Chloe argued, rushing over to protect the vase. "If Daniel Miller wants to take you to dinner, you go to dinner. He could fund our entire national expansion."

"He will destroy us," I said.

"Destroy us? He sent you two dozen imported roses! He's been trying to get your attention for a month."

"And he will stop today." I plucked the card from my fingers and ripped it in half.

I dropped the torn pieces onto the floor.

"In this life, I will not love you again," I said softly.

My cell phone rang on the kitchen counter. The caller ID flashed Daniel's name.

"Don't answer that," I warned.

Chloe lunged for the phone. "It's him! It's actually him!"

"Hang up, Chloe."

"Victoria, we need this funding!" She swiped the screen and brought the phone to her ear. "Hello, Mr. Miller?"

I marched across the kitchen, ready to snatch the device from her hand, but Chloe's expression suddenly dropped. All the color drained from her face.

"What?" Chloe whispered into the receiver. "Are you sure?"

She lowered the phone slowly, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"Chloe, what did he say?" I demanded.

"That wasn't Daniel," she stammered. "That was the police."