Valentine’s night, I bought a sexy dress, put on exquisite makeup, and went to the bar to meet my husband. But I accidentally overheard his buddies asking him: “Wyatt, we pretend to be you and take turns holding hands and kissing your wife—she really won’t notice?” Wyatt blew out a smoke ring, unconcerned: “She has face blindness. She won’t notice.” “But let’s be clear upfront—play around all you want, but don’t sleep with her. I don’t do secondhand.” For the past three years, the people dating me, holding my hand, and kissing me were never Wyatt. Of course I knew. I also knew that for three years, the man who gripped my waist and tangled with me passionately every night wasn’t Wyatt either. That man was waiting for me at home right now. My phone rang just as Preston carried me out of the bathroom. His sweaty, damp chest pressed against my back as he pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling window, one hand gripping my chin to demand another kiss. Preston’s stamina was astonishing. No matter how many times we’d been together, I still couldn’t quite handle his tireless demands. I used the gap while catching my breath to poke his waist as a reminder: “Phone.” Only then did he pick up his phone and glance at it, cursing under his breath. He quickly flipped the phone face down, then gently lowered his head to kiss my earlobe. “Baby, I need to take this call.” Preston went out to the balcony. I silently threw on a robe and went downstairs, opened the car door, and got in. Through the car’s Bluetooth connected to Wyatt’s phone, his cold voice came through: “Switch with me tomorrow.” Preston laughed carelessly: “What, only three years and you already can’t bear to part with her?” Wyatt paused, apparently downing a drink, his voice somewhat heavy: “Not really. My grandfather’s birthday is tomorrow, I need to bring her. And just reminding you—it’s Lucas’s turn on Friday.” As soon as he finished speaking, a burst of laughter erupted: “Damn, Wyatt, you’re way too generous! You just got married and you’re already lending your wife out to your buddies to play with?” Wyatt blew out a smoke ring, unconcerned: “Blind box game, fair and square. She’s just Gianna—I can afford to lose her.” “But let’s be clear upfront—play around all you want, but don’t sleep with her. I don’t do secondhand.” Someone clicked their tongue. “What’s there to worry about? Who’d even want her?” “Though Gianna does have a nice body. Wyatt sent a photo in the group chat before of her right after her shower—it was pretty hot. None of you five were even a little tempted?” “I was pretty tempted.” Preston’s voice suddenly cut in. Wyatt’s side suddenly went quiet, the atmosphere turning strangely tense, making my spine crawl. “Playing around is fine, but I’m not becoming a homewrecker.” Preston said: “Though sleeping with her would actually work out—isn’t her birthday coming up in a few days? Weren’t you planning to reveal everything then?” The blaring music on the other end drowned out Preston’s voice. But I could still hear Vivian laughing by his ear. Vivian was Wyatt’s first love. I’d followed Wyatt around since childhood, watching him and Vivian go from acquaintances to lovers. But Wyatt’s grandfather, Mr. Anker, didn’t like her, declaring that if Wyatt continued with her, he’d revoke his inheritance rights. Only then did Wyatt agree to the arranged marriage with me. After nursing a crush for eighteen years, I’d finally achieved my dream, only to discover it was nothing but a game for these wealthy young masters. Vivian laughed in agreement: “Right, Wyatt? Her birthday’s in a few days—you guys should give her a big gift and tell her the truth.” “From the day you got married, you’ve all been taking turns playing with her… Now that I think about it, Gianna’s kind of like a bus—anyone can ride.” “Shut up.” Wyatt and Preston’s rebukes came simultaneously, and the other end of the line fell into silence again.
Preston said with a laugh: “She’s Wyatt’s wife after all. Not cool to provoke her like that.” “We won’t touch her. There’s no possibility of that.” Wyatt said something I couldn’t make out clearly—things got chaotic on that end, drowning out his voice. The call lasted fifteen minutes. I turned off the Bluetooth and got out of the car. That sharp pain had long since passed, now hidden beneath a calm surface. Fragmented and scattered, like ants gnawing away. As I headed upstairs, I ran into Preston on his way out. He seemed rushed, his clothes not even properly fastened, his exposed upper body covered in ambiguous scratches. Seeing me, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and pulled me into his arms. “Where’d you go, baby? I thought I’d lost you.” “Just went downstairs to throw out some trash.” I looked up, my palm against his cheek, fingertip landing on the mole at the corner of his eye. Wyatt had a mole in the same spot. Preston’s eyes darkened as my finger slid down, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The moment my fingertip touched the corner of his lips, he caught it in his mouth with a gentle bite. Preston had this habit—like a rabid dog, dedicated to leaving every mark of his possession on me. Even though this territory wasn’t his. Preston’s breathing gradually grew heavier, desire pooling in his eyes. He pressed me down onto the bed. I suddenly stopped his hand: “Wyatt, don’t use that. Let’s have a baby.” Preston’s pupils contracted as he stared at me fiercely. Preston was especially rough that night. I discovered Wyatt’s deception a few days before the wedding, when I received an anonymous video. The video was filmed in a private bar room, with Wyatt sitting beside Vivian. She suggested playing a blind box dating game, and a group of them drew lots that landed on me. Besides Wyatt, there were four other players. Preston was one of them. “Boring.” He impatiently kicked over the table and left the room cursing, “If you want to play, play without me.” Vivian laughed it off: “It’s fine, four people can still play. Just be careful. For Wyatt’s sake, don’t get her pregnant.” That was when I learned that the wedding I’d been anticipating for eighteen years was merely the opening signal for a game. My heart ached until I could barely breathe. That person sent me a message: [It’s not too late to cancel the wedding.] I ignored them, sitting in a daze staring at the video all night. In an arranged business marriage, I had no right to cancel the wedding. I still needed the Anker family’s help to establish my foothold in the Harrison family. The wedding proceeded as scheduled the next day. But before the ceremony even ended, Wyatt took a call and left. Preston was the one who came home that night. I have face blindness, but I’m not an idiot. After nursing a crush on Wyatt for eighteen years, how could I not recognize him? In my world, people fell into only three categories: Men, women, and Wyatt. That night, Preston stood with his arms crossed, looking at me mockingly and playfully. I remember he seemed about to say something, but before he could speak, I walked over and kissed him: “Wyatt, I knew you’d come back.” Everything after seemed to fall into place naturally. Four men took turns pretending to be Wyatt. Transferring huge sums to me five times a day, sending the same gifts five times over. We were like an ordinary married couple. Dating, holding hands, hugging, shopping, kissing. But at night, only Wyatt and Preston ever came home. Distinguishing between Wyatt and Preston was too easy. Wyatt wouldn’t touch me. Just one glance at me and he couldn’t hide the disgust in his eyes. Preston, on the other hand, never tired of it. He had all sorts of tricks and boundless energy. He’d patiently accompany me on mountain hikes covering thirty thousand steps, then still have energy to go at it until dawn when we got home. He loved to kiss me everywhere, inside and out, making me call him “husband,” then kissing me until I couldn’t catch my breath. “Baby, I really, really like you.” He’d whisper those words in my ear a million times each night, forcing me to respond. Later it turned into unwillingness. Sometimes I’d drift off to sleep in a daze. In my dreams, someone would trace my features, murmuring: “Why did you marry him when you knew he was deceiving you?” “Why won’t you divorce him? Do you love him that much?” I wanted to ask him too. Why he’d changed his mind and joined this game. I used him as Wyatt’s substitute—what did he use me as? I never asked, and Preston never answered. In my blurred world, there was now one more category: Preston.
Preston left early the next morning. The chaos in the house had been cleaned up spotlessly. Wyatt called me to come downstairs. When I opened the car door, Vivian was sitting next to Wyatt. She smiled at me provocatively: “Sorry, Gianna. I’m also going to visit Grandpa. You don’t mind, do you?” Before I could respond, Wyatt shot me a cold look: “Gianna, don’t make a scene.” I closed my eyes, ignoring Vivian’s provocation. Only after getting in the car did I ask Wyatt, “You didn’t buy me breakfast?” Wyatt froze. I deliberately smiled sweetly: “You forgot—when you woke up this morning, you said you were going to buy me breakfast.” I didn’t know what time Preston had left. But after hearing this, Wyatt’s face darkened. Vivian asked in surprise: “You two… slept together?” Her tone couldn’t hide her smugness. I didn’t answer, but looked at Wyatt with feigned surprise. Wyatt grunted in acknowledgment, his expression grim. He had a cigarette between his lips, about to light it. I poured oil on the fire, continuing: “Didn’t you say last night that you’d already quit smoking? Smoking’s bad for the baby—we’re going to start trying to conceive.” The cigarette fell to the ground. Cold fury surged in Wyatt’s dark eyes, as if ready to devour me. But Vivian laughed meaningfully: “Really? Then I’m very much looking forward to your baby.” I smiled graciously, looking at Wyatt with a blush: “I’m looking forward to it too. To us having a complete family.” Wyatt was visibly irritated. His irritation peaked when Preston appeared. Preston had his hands in his pockets with an expression that showed he was enjoying the drama. With him were several other people I couldn’t distinguish. But judging by Preston’s demeanor, they should be the other three who impersonated Wyatt. “Wyatt, aren’t you going to introduce us?” I held onto his arm, “Are they your friends too?” “Preston.” Before Wyatt could speak, Preston extended his hand to me, “Nice to meet you.” He deliberately emphasized his tone. Sometimes in bed, when Preston played certain games, he’d also deliberately call my name. Hearing him say it now created an indescribable sense of intimacy. Wyatt knocked my hand away and pulled Preston outside. The smugness in Vivian’s eyes grew more obvious. She smiled at me: “Gianna, doesn’t Wyatt have a terrible temper? Only I know him well enough that he treats me better.” “Not that terrible.” I smiled, going along with her words, “He’s been really good to me lately.” Vivian burst out laughing. The others joined in the laughter. I felt very uncomfortable among this group. Just then I received another anonymous message from that person: [Come to the back garden.] I left half-believing, half-doubting. I hadn’t walked far when I heard Wyatt’s interrogation from behind the artificial rock formation: “You touched her? Why is she talking about trying for a baby?” Preston leaned lazily against a tree, hands in his pockets: “What, can’t bear to part with her now?” “She’s my wife!” Wyatt grabbed his collar in frustration. “I didn’t touch her.” Preston impatiently brushed off his hand: “But so what if I did? She won’t figure it out anyway. Even if she does find out, worst case is divorce. If you divorce her, wouldn’t you be free to be with Vivian?” Wyatt hesitated, irritably reaching for a cigarette. But thinking of something, he put it back. “You’re not planning to divorce her anymore?” Preston narrowed his eyes, his voice turning cold, “Not afraid Gianna will get angry when she finds out?” “She won’t,” Wyatt said with certainty, “She loves me very much. She won’t get angry. After her birthday in a few days, when the game ends, I’ll settle down and live properly with her.” “Either way, don’t touch her. If Gianna wants a child, I’ll give her one. Consider it compensation for deceiving her these three years.” “What about Vivian?” Wyatt didn’t answer. I looked down at my phone, at the divorce agreement the lawyer had sent to my email. Before the wedding, I had thought about living a proper life with him. I didn’t even need him to love me—mutual respect would have been enough. From learning the truth until the wedding day, I gave him chance after chance to confess to me voluntarily. But he never did. Three years had passed, whether with Wyatt or with Preston. I was tired of this game too.
After dinner, Wyatt and I went home together. As he leaned over to fasten my seatbelt, his phone lit up. Wyatt just glanced at it before getting out to take the call. I watched Wyatt walk farther away and turned on the car’s Bluetooth. Vivian’s pleading voice came through: “Wyatt, can you come keep me company tonight? You’ve been looking at Gianna all day—I’m getting jealous.” “Don’t talk nonsense.” Wyatt frowned, “I’m married.” “So what? It’s just a game anyway. You’re not really going to tie yourself to her for life, are you?” Vivian dismissed it, continuing to whine: “Just have Preston go to Gianna. She’s face-blind anyway, she can’t tell the difference. Please?” Vivian’s wheedling worked. After hanging up, Wyatt looked down, apparently texting someone. Before long, he glanced back at me once, walked out of my line of sight, and when he returned, he’d become Preston. As soon as Preston got in the car, he cupped the back of my head. He kissed me until I could barely breathe. I gasped and tried to dodge. He came closer again, kissing from the corner of my eye to the corner of my mouth. His hands weren’t behaving either, sliding up under my skirt. “Baby, how about we try it in the car?” The way Preston looked at me was always sticky and intense. I pushed his hand away and turned my head to avoid him: “Don’t touch me.” Preston froze, then sneered: “Used me and now you don’t recognize me.” I ignored him the whole way home. That day onwards, Wyatt didn’t come back for a long time. Preston and the other three took turns impersonating him to keep me company. Dating, watching movies, shopping, giving me gifts. I calmly accepted everything. Everything seemed normal. I squeezed out a day to meet with a lawyer about the divorce. After the lawyer left, I sat there for a long time, my hand resting on my lower abdomen. I didn’t know. Whether my impulsive decision to have this child was the right one. A shadow suddenly fell before me. Before that hand could reach over, I quickly snatched the divorce agreement from the table. “What’s that, being so secretive? Baby, you didn’t sell the company behind my back, did you?” “If you did, that’s fine too. Call me over and I’ll help you count the money.” Preston pulled out a chair and sat beside me, reaching to hold me. I instinctively dodged. His hand froze in midair. He mocked himself, half-serious, half-joking: “Great, looks like I’ve fallen out of favor.” “Others get the seven-year itch, but we’re only at three years and you’re already bored.” “Was that guy just now the new one? Want me to chase him down and call him back?” As he spoke, he started to get up. I quickly grabbed him, glaring: “Be serious.” Preston pressed his advantage, patting his thigh. He was used to fooling around—I was genuinely worried he’d make a scene. I put the divorce agreement back in my bag and reluctantly walked over. Preston looked up, pinching my cheeks as he asked: “Alright, what have you been mad at me about these past few days?” This was different from Wyatt. Whatever happened, Preston always wanted to talk it through with me. But this time, between us. With lies and deception between us, with tangled, indescribable feelings. There was nothing left to say. “Because I brought Vivian to the old house last time?” Preston guessed one reason after another, “Or because I got cake for Vivian that day and ignored you?” I shook my head. Vivian’s voice dropped down at that moment: “Oh my, if it isn’t Gianna, and this is…” I looked up at her voice, just in time to see Wyatt holding hands with her.
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