The Wrong Bride Returns

Olivia's POV

He pressed his lips against mine and held my waist. I stood there frozen. “Say my name,” he said. I murmured, “Nathan.”

“Say it again.”

I moaned his name, “Nathan.”

I opened my eyes and it was morning. I was breathing hard. I was sweating profusely. “My goodness. It's a dream.” I whispered. I took a deep breath and touched my lips. It felt so real. “But wait a damn minute. Why am I even dreaming about Nathan? I blinked severally searching for an answer. One month. Thirty days. I counted every one. That's how long I have been here. To be honest, he hasn't been so cruel to me. Not to the level that I was expecting. I shook the feeling off. It's just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything.

I still wasn't used to the quiet. The type was the depressing type. It makes it hard to get a full breath in. Barely no footsteps. No voices. No TV somewhere down the hall. Nothing. Some days I thought maybe I'd gone deaf. Other days I thought maybe I was dead and this was what came next.

I sat on the edge of the bed with my knees to my chest and arms around them. I'd been like that for hours. 

Days blurred. I wake up. Stare at the ceiling. Wait for Mia. Maybe eat. Stare at the wall. Wait for dark. Sleep. Again. Jessica had gotten what she wanted. Also making me the villain while she plays victim. She knew my parents didn't want her to marry Nathan because they were afraid she won't be happy here. Pathetic liars.

I heard footsteps in the hall. Soft. Careful. I knew who it was before the door opened. Mia. The only one who came. The only one who remembered I was still in here.

She came in with the tray, hip against the door to push it open. Same tray. Same food. Toast. Eggs. Orange juice. Every morning for a month. I didn't know how she kept bringing food she already knew I barely touched.

She set it on the table by the window. Wood table, scratch on the left corner. 

She looked at me. Her eyes went over my face — the hollows under my cheeks, my collarbones sticking out more than they used to, the circles under my eyes that sleep wasn't fixing. I knew I looked bad. I could feel my bones pressing against my skin like they wanted out.

I tried to smile. It felt wrong. Like I'd forgotten how to do it right.

"You need to eat, Olivia, my daughter.” she said with her soft voice. Like she was talking to something that might bolt. "You've lost so much weight. You look terrible. Do you plan to lose your life before you get out of here?"

I laughed, “Hahahahahaha!” It came out really loud. "I'll eat later."

She opened her mouth like she was going to push it. Her hands gripped the tray. I watched her decide whether to fight me on it. She didn't.

Then the phone rang.

I jumped. My whole body flinched. The phone on the nightstand — white, sleek, I'd never touched it once. Didn't even know it worked. Who would call me here? Who knew I was here?

Mia looked at it, then at me. "You want me to get it?"

I shook my head. My throat felt tight. "No. I'll get it.” I looked firmly at it.

She stood there a second, like she wanted to stay, like she wanted to get between me and whatever was coming through that line. Then she nodded and left, shutting the door soft behind her.

I stared at the phone. It rang again. My hand shook when I picked it up. I don't know why I answered. Everything in me said don't. Say nothing. Disappear, like you're supposed to.

I answered anyway. Stupid me.

"Hello?" A soft voice. "Olivia."

That voice hit me like a slap. I knew it right away. Sweet, sing-song, the kind that flips to poison fast. It was Jessica.

My fingers went numb on the phone. I wanted to hang up. I wanted to throw it at the wall and watch it break. Instead I just sat there. Frozen.

"I was hoping you'd pick up. You know." I could feel her smile in her voice. "How's married life treating you?"

"What do you want?" My voice came out small. I hated that. Hated that she could still do this to me.

She laughed. That light little laugh. The one that made everyone think she was sweet. I'd heard it a thousand times, right before the knife went in.

"Just checking on my sister. Heard you're locked up in there like a prisoner. Is that true?"

I said nothing. 

"It must be so hard." Fake sympathy all over it. "You love being around people so much. Oh wait. No one wants to be around you. Right. Forgot."

I shut my eyes. My hand shook so bad the phone rattled against my ear.

"Why are you calling me?" I whispered.

"Can't a sister check on her sister?"

"We're not sisters. Not really."

Quiet on the line. I could hear her breathing. I could picture the smile — that satisfied one, like she already won.

"You're right," she said. "We're not. You're a spare part, Olivia. Trash. That's all you've ever been."

She said it swiftly. Like she hadn't just reached in and ripped something out of me.

"You know what? Nathan calls me every night. He tells me about his day. Says he misses me. Says he can't wait till the year's up so he can get rid of you."

I clapped a hand over my mouth. My eyes burned. I wasn't going to cry. Not for her.

"He's never going to want you. You're a placeholder. That's it. Stay invisible. It's the only thing you're good at."

Click. Line dead.

I sat there holding the phone. Dial tone buzzing loud in my ear, filling up the whole room. I put it back slowly.

I wrapped my arms around myself. I tried to hold it together. I tried not to come apart.

But I was coming apart. I could feel it. Cracks running through me like ice on a pond.

Jessica was right. I was the spare. Always had been. The daughter my parents didn't want. The sister my sister hated. The wife my husband never chose.

I was nothing.

Don't know how long I sat there. Rocking. Minutes. Hours. Time didn't mean anything here anymore. 

The phone rang again.

I didn't pick up. I just listened to it ring. I knew what was happening on the other end. Jessica. Leaving a voicemail. Crying on cue. Telling Nathan or Patricia I threatened her. That I was cruel. That I broke her heart.

I knew this script by heart. Been living it my whole life.

The ringing stopped. Then a muffled voice came through the receiver. Jessica's voice. Thick with fake tears.

"She was so mean to me, Nathan. I don't know what I did. She told me to stay away from you. Said she'd destroy me if I came near you again."

I chuckled. “Some things don't change,” I whispered.

Then I heard footsteps.

It was fast and heavy. I knew exactly who from the look of things. Nathan’s.

He barged in as expected.

"Olivia!”

His voice cut like a blade. I looked up. He filled the doorway. Jaw tight. Green eyes on fire. Phone in his fist, knuckles pale.

"What did you say to Jessica?" His voice came out commanding.

 I said slowly. "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me!" He stepped in. The room felt smaller with him in it. "I heard the voicemail. She was crying. Said you threatened her."

A laugh got out of me before I could stop it. Bitter. Hollow. "She called me. Mocked me. Told me you go to her every night. That you want her. That you'll never want me."

His eyes narrowed. "That's not true."

"Then why do you always believe her?"

"She was terrified, Olivia. She really was scared. Even if she said all those things, that's not enough to threaten her."

"She's always terrified. It's how she gets what she wants. Been doing it her whole life."

He shook his head. "You stole her wedding. Locked her in a basement. And now you want to play the victim?"

I got up off the bed and I looked straight into his eyes 

"I didn't steal anything," I said. "I was forced into this. Your family forced me. Her family forced me. I never, ever, wanted any of it."

"You could've said no."

"I didn't have a choice!" My voice cracked. I didn't care anymore. "My father said if I didn't marry you he'd throw me out. No money. No friends. Nobody. I was trapped. I didn't want to be on the streets. I've always been trapped."

He started to say something. I cut him off.

"You want the truth?" Tears were running now. I didn't fight them. "I didn't want to marry you. I didn't want any of this. Nobody ever gave me a choice. And the worst part — you don't even care. You never have."

He just looked at me. Something crossed his face. There, then gone. Surprise, maybe. Or guilt. Couldn't tell.

"I didn't come here to fight with you." His voice dropped. Went flat. "I came to tell you — you threaten Jessica again, you'll regret it. Understand?"

I looked at him with his cold eyes and hard face. He'd already decided I was guilty. Nothing I said was going to change that.

"Get out," I whispered.

"What?"

"Get out! Leave me alone!"

He opened his mouth. I thought something ugly was coming. But he shut it, turned, and walked out. He slammed the door.

Mia stepped in immediately with a envelope in her hand.

"This came for you." Quiet voice. "Didn't want to bring it earlier. Not after everything. But…"

I cut her off. “It's okay.”

She set it on the table and left.

I got off the bed quickly and tore it open. It was a letter.

*How does it feel to be nothing, Olivia? Nathan will never want you. He'll never want you. You're just a placeholder. Nobody has ever wanted you and they never will. Keep dreaming while I enjoy him. A reject. Stay invisible. That's the only thing you're good at. Bitch*

I read it three times. Cuts deeper each time.

My hands trembled.

I wanted to burn it. Tear it up. Scream. Throw myself on the floor.

But I didn't do any of that.

I took out the notebook Mia had given me and wrote on a blank page. One sentence. 

“I am still here.”

I tore the page out. I folded it and walked out of my room slowly.

I went down the stairs. My heart was beating fast. Palms sweating. I went to Nathan's study. The door was slightly opened.

I pushed it open just enough to slip my arm through. Set the paper on his desk. Right in the middle, where he'd see it first.

Then I went back to my room. No one saw me. Thank goodness.

I don't know why I did it. I don't know what I thought would happen. Ma

ybe I just wanted someone to know I existed. Maybe I wanted him to know.

I shut my door. Sat back down on the edge of the bed. 

OLIVIA!!!

I looked up immediately. Someone was screaming my name.