When I married Julian, I was 22, he was 32. He was ten years my senior, and let’s just say his ‘generosity’ extended beyond his age, into aspects that left me breathless. For three years, he showered me with endless affection, almost always giving me what I wanted, as if he’d pluck the stars and moon for me, cherishing me like a precious gem. Yet, when night fell, his demands were relentless. Even when I whispered my pleas, he’d just smile and refuse to stop. I knew he had a lot of money and a lot of love, all for me. Until the day my father passed away. I called him ninety-nine times; he hung up every single one. The next second, I received photos from my best friend: “Chloe, is this your old man? I saw him hugging a woman on a street in Paris.” Opening the photos, seeing that man and woman, my heart felt like it had been thrown into ice. The man was him. And the woman was my Aunt Camila. Julian only came home on the third day after my father’s death. As he opened the door, he saw me on the couch, my eyes red and swollen, my figure frail and thin. His guilt peaked. He rushed over and pulled me into his arms, “Chloe, I had an emergency flight to Paris for a meeting. Because of the time difference, I missed your calls, so I couldn’t be with you for the funeral.” “It’s my fault. What can I do to make it up to you? Anything, just name it.” I listened to his explanation in silence, my face expressionless, like a still, dark pool. I didn’t say anything. I just took two documents from my bag, opened them to the last page, and handed them to him. “Julian, I want these two things. Please sign them.” Julian breathed a sigh of relief, quickly taking the pen and signing his name. Seeing his unhesitating actions, my eyes welled up with red. “You didn’t even look? Aren’t you afraid what I asked for is expensive?” Julian reached out and held me close. “Chloe, we’re husband and wife. Everything I have is yours already. Once the baby is born, it’ll belong to you and the baby. You can have anything you want, okay?” As he spoke, he leaned down to listen to the baby in my belly. “Are we going for a check-up today? Is the baby kicking? Can I come with you?” I stayed silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Julian took it as a ‘yes’ and helped me into the car. The atmosphere in the car was heavy and silent. Julian tried to find a topic, but his phone suddenly rang. “Julian, I’m back in the country. I want to see you.” Being so close, I could clearly hear Camila’s voice on the other end. My hand involuntarily tightened. The next second, Julian hung up the phone. “Chloe, I have some work to take care of. Can you go to your prenatal check-up by yourself?” I didn’t expose his lie. I just opened the car door. In the cold, desolate wind, I hailed a taxi. Memories flooded my mind, rushing past like the fleeting street scenes outside the window. Years ago, I was in a car accident. The driver fled, and passersby, afraid of getting involved, didn’t dare to help me. I lay in a pool of blood, on the verge of death, when Julian, like a godsend, picked me up. That day, I fell in love at first sight with this man who was ten years my senior. Luckily, the mature and steady Julian seemed to like me too. We dated for a year before getting married. Perhaps because of his age, he seemed to have endless patience. After we married, we never had a single fight. Gifts for me, anniversaries – he never missed a beat. In life, he always considered my feelings, except in bed. I couldn’t understand why, even in his thirties, he had such boundless energy. So many nights, he would make me whimper and cry out, begging him to stop, but he would only kiss me again and again, smiling. “My little silly goose, I love you, that’s why I’m like this.” “The more we try, my darling, the sooner you’ll give me a baby.” So, every night, my belly swelled and swelled again with hope, and finally, in our third year, I became pregnant. Three days ago, my father had a sudden stroke. I rushed to him, only to hear him constantly muttering Julian’s name, asking when he would come, wanting to see his son-in-law one last time. Everyone knew he wanted to entrust his daughter to Julian at the end of his life, and they all tried to contact him. But no matter what anyone did, I’d called him so many times, my phone almost died, yet I couldn’t get through. My father passed away with regret and resentment. I thought he was just busy. Until I finished arranging my father’s funeral, and then immediately received that photo from my best friend. I couldn’t understand why my husband would be hugging my aunt. My mind was a complete mess. Finally, I mustered the courage to enter Julian’s study, a place he never allowed me to go. As soon as the door opened, I felt as if I’d plunged into an icy abyss. Because inside, everything was related to my Aunt Camila. Walls covered in her photos, meticulously preserved love letters, countless unopened gifts, and a thick love diary that was still being written in. Through this diary, I learned everything. He had only been in love twice in his life. One was me. The other was my Aunt Camila. They were college sweethearts, and their relationship had lasted a passionate ten years. In their happiest times, he had accompanied her across the Atlantic, trekked through the Amazon jungle with her, and intimately embraced her under snow-capped mountains bathed in golden sunlight. In their angriest moments, he had shattered millions worth of jewelry for her. After their breakup, he had swallowed his pride and flown overseas to win her back, even drinking himself sick until his stomach bled when he learned she had started a new relationship. All his joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness in the first half of his life seemed to revolve around Camila. And the reason he was with me was merely because, after breaking up with her, he wanted to find a substitute who resembled Camila. So, he set his sights on her niece. After all, my face looked so much like my aunt’s! So, he orchestrated a hit-and-run accident, making me fall in love with him at first sight. So, he made love to me day and night, only to get me pregnant. But not because he wanted a child that looked like *me*, but a child that looked like *Camila*. The moment I learned the truth, I was utterly thunderstruck, completely shattered. It turned out the tenderness was fake, the love was fake, and even his sincerity was all fake. He had thoroughly deceived me! Though young, I knew I needed a clean slate, a clean heart, before anyone new could truly enter. What’s more, I was never anyone’s substitute. I was Chloe Davis, unique Chloe Davis. But from the very beginning, he had been lying to me. So, I would lie to him just this once. That felt fair. Just now, I deliberately didn’t tell him what he had signed. One was a divorce agreement. The other was an abortion report. I was no one’s substitute. A man whose heart isn’t mine, I simply won’t have him… I walked into the hospital and handed the abortion consent form directly to the attending doctor. “Hello, I want to terminate this pregnancy.”
Three hours later, I returned home, clutching my lower abdomen. After a day of rest, I looked at my pale face in the mirror and picked up lipstick with trembling hands. After a quick touch-up, my complexion returned to normal, but cold sweat still seeped from my body due to the pain. Wrapped in a blanket, I lay on the couch and called the housekeeper. “Please gather all the jewelry and handbags from the display cases. Send them to an auction house to be sold, and donate the proceeds to charity.” Julian, who had just pushed open the door, froze at my words. “Chloe, why are you suddenly selling these things?” I lowered my eyes, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t like them, so I’m donating them. It’s just doing good deeds for the baby.” Thankfully, Julian didn’t think much of it. He walked over, hugged me, and cooed, “Alright. In a couple of days, I’ll take you to an auction. You can pick out some new pieces, and we’ll slowly fill up the empty display cases again, okay?” Listening to his babying tone, I didn’t answer. Instead, I changed the subject. “Are you done with work?” “Yes, I’m done. I know you’ve been through a lot lately. I’ll stay home with you and the baby for the next week, alright?” As he spoke, he reached out to touch my belly, but I pressed his hand down in time. He lowered his head, seeming to notice my belly was a bit flatter, and slightly frowned. Just as he was about to ask, my phone suddenly rang. Seeing my uncle’s name on the screen, I answered the call. “Chloe, your Aunt Camila came back yesterday. Everyone’s planning a family dinner at the old family home. Will you be coming?” “I’m not feeling too well, so I won’t be able to…” Before I could finish, Julian took my phone. “I’ll bring Chloe, and we’ll be there on time.” Seeing how eager he was to agree to the dinner, a sharp pain pierced my chest. I couldn’t help but remember the ninety-nine calls I couldn’t get through on the day my father died. It turned out that when faced with someone he truly loved, he would seize every opportunity to see them. He wouldn’t care about my wishes, nor would he care about the pain of me having just lost my father. He would simply follow his heart, rushing to be with her. After hanging up, Julian saw the expression on my face and realized he had lost his composure. He held my icy hand and offered a few explanations. “Chloe, I know you’re not in a good mood, but you’re still pregnant. You shouldn’t dwell in sorrow. I’ll go back to the family home with you to see the relatives and get some fresh air.” I forced a smile, but said nothing. At seven o’clock, the couple arrived at the family home on time. Before entering, Julian handed me a gift. “I heard from your uncle that you haven’t seen your Aunt Camila in years. It’s proper etiquette to bring a gift.” In the past, I would have thought him thoughtful and considerate. But now, I knew he just wanted to use my hand to give a gift to the woman he loved. I didn’t expose his intentions and stepped into the lively living room. Hearing the sound, Camila, who was chatting with someone, turned her head and saw me, and Julian holding my hand beside me. She paused for a moment, then hesitated, “Chloe, who is this?” I didn’t answer, unsure how to. Julian also remained silent, but the relatives nearby enthusiastically introduced him. “Camila, you’ve been abroad for three years and didn’t come back for the wedding, so it’s normal you don’t know him. This is Chloe’s husband, Julian Davis, CEO of Davis Group…” Camila swayed slightly, a hint of shock flashing in her eyes. But having seen plenty of grand occasions, she quickly regained her composure and stepped forward to shake his hand. They exchanged polite pleasantries, like strangers meeting for the first time. Only I could see the subtle, invisible tension flowing between them. I handed the gift to Camila and simply said, “Aunt Camila, welcome back.” “No, I’m just back in the country for a month, then I’ll return to Paris.” Julian’s face visibly darkened. Camila pretended not to notice, smiling as she opened the gift. Seeing the brilliant gemstone necklace, her eyes showed appreciation. “Chloe, you have excellent taste. I’ve been eyeing this necklace for ages.” I took in every detail of their expressions and said flatly, “Julian picked it out. His taste has always been impeccable.” During the meal, Julian barely ate anything. Aside from drinking, he was busy dishing out food for me. Relatives and friends smiled, teasing us. “Chloe is so lucky to marry such a wonderful husband. Look how in love they are!” I forced a smile, looking at the beef and lamb in my bowl, and didn’t touch my fork. After getting pregnant, I had severe morning sickness and couldn’t eat any meat. Julian knew this and had eaten vegetarian with me for a month. But today, he hadn’t remembered at all. Because he was busy swapping plates to move all the fish and shrimp on the table in front of Camila. My aunt, since she was little, loved seafood the most.
After dinner, Julian was stone-drunk. Relatives and friends, uneasy about them driving home like that, asked them to stay the night. I called a maid to help him back to the room. After washing up, I turned off the bedroom light, leaving only the bedside lamp on. A little while later, Julian groggily opened his eyes and reached out to pull me into his arms. “Camila, you came back for me, didn’t you?” I froze, not telling him he had mistaken me for someone else. It took me a long time to compose myself before I asked, “And you? Who did you get drunk for tonight?” “It’s you, Camila, it will only ever be you. Don’t you understand?” Though I had long anticipated the outcome, hearing it directly, my heart still throbbed with pain. Only then did I understand why the man who would drink to drown his sorrows for love had always appeared sober in front of me. Was he afraid that if he got drunk, he would reveal his true feelings like this, afraid I would find out? I clenched my hands tightly, struggling to breathe, and could only break free from his embrace. I sat in the bathroom for two hours before I calmed down. When I came out again, Julian was no longer in bed. I pulled open the bedroom door and saw the motion-sensor light on the balcony had gone out. I tiptoed over and, through the window, saw Julian and Camila standing outside. The night concealed the expression on his face, but I could clearly hear his suppressed voice. “Didn’t you tell me yesterday you weren’t going back to Europe? Why did you change your mind today?” “And you? Why did you marry Chloe without telling me?” Hearing Camila’s calm tone, Julian felt the fire in his heart burn even fiercer. His remaining rationality instantly collapsed. He forcefully gripped Camila’s hand: “Why I married her, shouldn’t you know best? She looks so much like you, and she’s your blood relative! Only by being with her can I openly see you! And not have to fly to Paris and wait downstairs for dozens of hours, just to sneak a glimpse of you, like a few days ago!” So, he went to Paris for Camila. That’s why he didn’t answer a single call. My heart jolted violently, my fingers digging deep into my palms. Camila hadn’t expected him to really be thinking that way. She murmured, “You’re crazy!” “I *am* crazy! I’ve been crazy ever since the day you insisted on breaking up with me, don’t you know that?! I want you by my side, even if it’s just a substitute who resembles you. That’s enough for me to cherish for the rest of my life!” His tone, filled with unvented pain, left Camila stunned. After a long silence, she squeezed out a single sentence, equally pained, “Julian, what do you take Chloe for by doing this? You’ve been married for three years, and she’s even carrying your child. Don’t you feel anything for her at all?” Julian laughed. “Camila, she’s just a substitute. How do you expect me to feel anything? Even if I did, I’d just be looking at her face, which reminds me of yours, and all I’d be thinking about is you!” “Chloe and I will have our baby soon. I’ve even thought of a name: Julianna, combining your name and mine. We’ll be together forever!” Hearing all of this, a chill ran down my spine, and I could no longer hold back my tears. Julianna. What a “Julianna.” I closed my eyes, recalling his insatiable desire in bed after we married, and his nervous attitude after I became pregnant. I bit my lip hard, suppressing the desperate cries of pain. My last ounce of strength drained away. Leaning on the wall, I dragged my shaky steps and turned to leave. The sounds of their argument gradually faded. Just before the bedroom door closed, I heard Camila say, “Aren’t you afraid Chloe will find out the truth?” Julian said, “She’ll never know. Even if she did, she loves me so much, she would never leave!” Never? I touched my flat abdomen, a bitter smile touching my lips. I would. I would smash the cage he built with my own hands and fly to the open skies of freedom. Never looking back. Julian didn’t return that night. At dawn, I got up. I didn’t disturb anyone. I went home alone, took my documents, and processed my immigration papers. As soon as I finished, I received a call from Camila. “Chloe, can you come with me to the cemetery today? I want to pay my respects to your father and also visit your mother’s grave.” My mother had passed away very early, so I had less contact with my maternal grandmother’s side of the family. Although Camila and I were only five years apart, we weren’t really close. But since Camila was going to pay respects to my parents, I could only agree. I bought a bouquet of flowers and, as I reached the cemetery gate, saw a sports car parked not far away. It was Julian. He saw me too and immediately got out of the car, walking over to my side. “Why didn’t you let me come with you to the cemetery?”
I stared at him. “Didn’t you leave in the middle of the night? Julian, I didn’t say I was coming to the cemetery. How did you know I’d be here?” Julian actively took my hand. “My stomach wasn’t feeling well yesterday. I saw you were in the bathroom, so I went to the hospital myself. This morning, I came back and heard Aunt Camila say she wanted to come with you to pay respects, so I tagged along.” It was an almost perfect lie. I mumbled an ‘hm’ and said nothing more. When we arrived at the cemetery, seeing the two gravestones side by side, a wave of sadness washed over me. The two people who loved me most in this world were also gone. Seeing the tears in my eyes, Camila walked over and gently patted my shoulder. “Chloe, even though your parents are gone, you still have Julian. He’ll take care of you for the rest of your life, and your baby is about to be born. You’ll have a new family.” She spoke with such conviction, as if she had already affirmed for Julian the eternal truth of our marriage. And after she finished speaking, Julian quickly chimed in. “Yes, I’ll take good care of you and the baby. Don’t be sad.” Hearing his words, I only felt irony. He promised to take care of me for life, not out of love, nor responsibility. But for another woman, and his unspeakable selfish desires. I swallowed those emotions, looking up at the photos of my parents. “Yes, I will definitely have a new home.” But it would have nothing to do with Julian anymore. After paying our respects, a light rain began to fall. Camila and I sat in the back seat, with Julian driving. Finding the atmosphere in the car heavy, Camila initiated a topic. “I heard a new Italian restaurant opened on the south side of town. How about we try it for lunch?” Julian immediately turned the car in that direction. “They say the owner is Italian, and the Western food they make is very authentic.” “Is that so? The pizza I had in Paris…” The two of them started chatting, moving from Western food to Nordic scenery, then to their experiences over the past few days. No matter what one said, the other could quickly pick up the conversation, never letting the atmosphere grow awkward. They were as in sync as a couple who had been together for many years, sharing everything. The thought flashed through my mind, and I scoffed at myself. They had indeed been together for many years. The places they’d been, the things they’d done for each other, their familiarity with one another. It was far beyond what I, a mere substitute, could ever compare to. Upon arriving at the restaurant, Julian habitually handed the menu to Camila. She took it, about to open it, then remembered something and handed it to me instead. “Pregnant women must have many dietary restrictions, Chloe. You order.” I ordered a few things casually. When the dishes arrived, Julian frowned. “You can’t eat any of these dishes. Did you forget the doctor’s instructions?” Camila also turned to look at my belly, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “Chloe, aren’t you four months pregnant? Why does your belly not look like it’s that far along?” Julian instantly stood up, intending to come over and check, but accidentally bumped into a server who was distributing food. The serving cart overturned, and all the dishes spilled out. He instinctively shielded Camila, blocking the hot soup and cold dishes from hitting her. I wasn’t so lucky. All the freshly cooked hot soup splashed onto my legs, immediately forming a patch of blisters. My face crumpled in pain, cold sweat dripping from my forehead. The rising heat enveloped me. I clutched the tablecloth tightly, watching Julian pick up Camila and rush away. In that instant, my heart plummeted to rock bottom. The scene was chaotic. The server quickly helped me to a safe area. Just outside, I saw Camila and Julian arguing. “I told you I’m fine! You should go back and take care of Chloe now!” “Your hand is all red and scalded! Why are you trying to be so tough? I’ll take you to the hospital first, then come back for her, Camila. Why do you have to be so stubborn? You were so worried about me just now, afraid I’d get scalded. Don’t you actually still have feelings for me?” “So what if I do, so what if I don’t?! Julian, we broke up! You married Chloe, and she’s carrying your child!” Hearing Camila’s painful shout, Julian’s eyes immediately reddened. “You clearly know that in my heart, she’ll never be as important as you!” Camila froze for a few seconds. Just as she was about to speak, she looked up and saw me standing at the doorway. Her pupils contracted sharply, and her voice was filled with unprecedented panic. “Chloe, why are you out here?!
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