My best friend showed up begging me, saying her ex-boyfriend was harassing her and her parents were pressuring her insanely to get married. She wanted to fake-marry my husband. I never thought Ryan, my husband, would actually agree! And he even let her move into our home. Listening to the unsettling noises coming from Ryan and Ashley in the living room every night, I completely shattered… My husband, Ryan, and I had been married for three years. He was thriving in his career, and I was stunning at home. Our relationship was full of love and harmony. But three days ago, something happened that turned my world upside down. My best friend, Ashley, forced a check for one hundred thousand dollars into my hand, saying she needed to “borrow” Ryan to marry him. Her excuse? She was being harassed by her ex-boyfriend and was under relentless pressure from her parents to tie the knot. She desperately needed a man to protect her for a while and give her parents some peace. She promised that once this period was over, she’d step aside, and I’d have Ryan back. This was utterly outrageous! Even if she was my best friend, there was no way I’d agree. One hundred thousand dollars? I had countless amounts of that. But just as I was about to transfer the money back to Ashley, Ryan came home. He sighed at me, “Honey.” “Why the long face? Rough day at work?” “No.” He opened his Snapchat stories. “Honey. Look how pathetic Ashley is. A girl harassed by a guy all day long, she’s going to crack.” I saw photos of Ashley covered in bruises, and my heart ached a little. It made me hesitate, wondering if I should actually help her. For the next few days, Ashley kept calling me, sending me desperate voice messages, crying as if her life depended on it. “Please, Chloe, you’re my only friend, my best friend. You have to help me! My parents said if I don’t get married soon, they’ll jump off a building!” “Once this is over, I’ll file for divorce with your husband, and he’ll be yours again, always.” Against my better judgment, I agreed. The moment I saw the divorce papers with Ryan’s name and mine, and then his marriage certificate with Ashley, my mind still raced like a frantic drum. It all felt like a bizarre dream. The day they got their marriage license, Ryan came home and presented me with a bouquet of roses. “My dearest, most beautiful goddess, you’ve been working so hard lately.” Looking at my loving and tender husband, a strange calm washed over me. All those awful thoughts just seemed to vanish into thin air. Being born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I was actually pretty easy to win over. That night, Ryan and I got intimate, just like old times. Midway, Ryan held my wrists with both his hands, leaning close to my ear, whispering. “Honey, I heard Ashley is still being harassed. Should we invite her to stay with us for a while?” My brow furrowed slightly. Why was he bringing up Ashley now, of all times? “Would she even want to? It’s just a fake marriage, let’s not make things awkward for her. It’s not right.” “Let’s just try.” I didn’t think Ashley would actually come to my house, so I made a casual, half-hearted invitation. “Really?! Thank you, Chloe! I’m so incredibly happy! I’ll be over tomorrow!” Me: “…” I felt a pang of discomfort. On Ashley’s very first night, Ryan took us out for a nice dinner at a trendy restaurant, claiming it was to celebrate Ashley staying with us. I felt a stab of jealousy. Was my husband being *too* good to Ashley? That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Ryan held me close and whispered, “Don’t worry, it’s just a fake marriage with her. We talked about this, remember? After a while, we’ll divorce, and then I’ll remarry you. It’s not real with her.” I tried to tell myself I was overthinking, but my mind just wouldn’t cooperate. Then I noticed Ashley was incredibly diligent around the house. She loved talking to Ryan, always being overly attentive to him. It was like she was the lady of the house. And every time Ryan came home, Ashley would find a way to wear something alluring. One day, I just couldn’t take it anymore and confronted Ashley. “Ashley, Ryan is my husband. Could you please dress more appropriately?” Ashley looked at me with pleading eyes and apologized, “I know I was wrong. I promise I won’t dress like that again.” Seeing her humble apology, I didn’t want to ruin our rare friendship. After that, Ashley started dressing normally, but her other behaviors were anything but. For instance, while Ryan and I were being intimate, Ashley would suddenly shriek and knock on the door, interrupting our mood. I’d ask her what was wrong. She’d sniffle and say, “I had a nightmare.”
Then she’d look at Ryan with pitiful, sweet eyes and a delicate voice, “Ryan, I’m so scared. Can you stay with me?” I felt a surge of irritation, but Ryan immediately calmed me. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” His gaze was steady, and my frustrated heart gradually settled. I could only force myself to say, “Then go ahead and stay with her.” So, Ryan led Ashley to our guest room. Soon after, strange noises started coming from the guest room. I faintly heard Ashley saying, “I’m so scared, Ryan.” And Ryan would reply, “It’s okay, don’t be afraid. You’re safe here with me.” I immediately pulled the duvet over my head, afraid of what I might imagine if I listened too long. Yet, I still believed in Ryan’s character. The next day, after much thought, I handed the one hundred thousand dollars back to Ashley. “Please leave my house, Ashley. And divorce my husband, okay?” Ashley’s tears spilled out in three seconds. She grabbed my arm, gently nudging me like a timid kitten. “Chloe, I swore before! I’d divorce him as soon as this period is over and I’ve given my parents the news about my marriage. You might not trust me, but don’t you trust Ryan? If you do this, won’t he feel like you don’t believe in him?” A knot formed in my stomach. I *did* trust Ryan. But trusting someone doesn’t mean you can stop overthinking things. I was still anxious. But then Ashley told me she needed to take Ryan back to her hometown to introduce him to her parents. She promised they’d get a divorce as soon as they returned. I was overjoyed. As long as she filed for divorce with Ryan, that’s all that mattered. As I helped Ryan straighten his tie, I couldn’t help but remind him, “Try to act natural in front of Ashley’s parents, okay?” “Don’t worry, my sweet wife.” “Such a charmer,” I chuckled. I dressed Ryan impeccably and personally sent them off at the airport. After Ryan left, I missed him terribly, so I kept sending him messages. He always replied with a flower emoji, a smiley face, and a string of photos. But a few times, it felt off. I noticed he was posting a lot of Ashley’s pictures on his social media. Some friends even teased him, asking if he’d found *another* girlfriend… Soon enough, they returned. As soon as they were home, I asked Ashley, “Can you two get divorced now?” Ashley suddenly covered her face, sobbing uncontrollably. “No, Chloe, I can’t yet.” I snapped instantly. “Why not?” “Because… I’m pregnant.” “What?” Had I heard that right? Ryan walked over and put his arm around my shoulder. “The baby she’s carrying is her ex-boyfriend’s. She’s pregnant now, she can’t divorce me.” I couldn’t even describe how I felt. On one hand, I was relieved the baby wasn’t Ryan’s. On the other, I was disgusted that she was still clinging to my husband, and Ryan wasn’t even bothered by it. From then on, I kept my distance from Ashley, finding her constant presence in my house headache-inducing. One time, Ashley took my hand and said, “Chloe, I know you’re hurting, but I swear, once the baby is born, I’ll definitely divorce Ryan. I had no choice; I needed a man to protect me. Ryan has always loved you. He just sees me as a friend.”
She always spoke to me so sweetly and demurely, making me feel like the bad guy. Watching her tears stream down, I eventually couldn’t bring myself to kick her out. I decided to let bygones be bygones. I even cooked for her myself, preparing nutritious meals. During this time, she did indeed maintain a distance from Ryan that made me feel more at ease. That’s why I worked even harder to take care of her. Ashley gained weight during her pregnancy and was incredibly healthy. Ten months later, Ashley went into labor. That day, Ryan suddenly took time off work and came with me to the hospital. “Didn’t you say you had a multi-million-dollar project going on? Why are you here at the hospital?” I didn’t understand Ryan’s behavior. Ryan didn’t even look at me. His gaze was fixed anxiously on the delivery room door. He gave a dismissive answer, “It’s fine, it won’t affect anything.” In that moment, Ryan felt like a complete stranger to me. Just as my suspicions flared, Ashley’s healthy eight-pound son was born. When the doctor opened the delivery room door and asked who Ashley’s husband was, Ryan shot forward like a rocket. “That’s me, that’s me! I’m her husband!” “Congratulations, this is your son.” The doctor placed the baby in Ryan’s arms for him to hold first. Me: “…” Who could possibly describe how I felt then? It felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Soon after, Ashley was wheeled out by the nurse. Even though she’d just given birth, she was young and recovering remarkably well. Ashley was quickly settled into a private room. Looking at the delicate, adorable baby, I genuinely congratulated Ashley, “Congratulations, this baby looks so much like you!” Ashley gazed at the child, her eyes warm, her voice filled with maternal affection. “He not only looks like me, but he looks even more like his father.” As she spoke, she glanced sideways at Ryan. She was implying the baby looked like Ryan? And Ryan didn’t even protest! Instead, he looked even more excited than Ashley as he gazed at the baby. I felt a surge of anger. The atmosphere felt suffocating, so I stepped out for some air. But as soon as I walked out, I realized I hadn’t grabbed my bag. When I turned back to get it. I heard Ryan and Ashley talking from inside the room. “My love, this is *our* son. Your wife couldn’t give you one, but I could. Aren’t you happy?” “Ashley, you worked so hard. Our son is truly adorable.” “He is, isn’t he? So cute! We have a son!” “…” Their conversation cut into me like razor blades. One was my best friend, the other my husband. I remembered Ashley giving me one hundred thousand dollars to “borrow” my husband, and I actually let her. But now, this insane drama felt like it was splattered all over my face. I wanted to storm in, scream, and tear them both apart. But I held back. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. Honestly, I should have seen it coming—there’s no such thing as a “proper” fake relationship like that. But I had believed in Ryan’s integrity. Yet reality always delivers such a brutal slap to the face. Ryan was tainted. Ashley was a traitor. I regulated my emotions, pretending nothing was wrong as I walked in, grabbed my bag, and left. That night, I went out and drank myself into oblivion. I drank and threw up, then drank and threw up again. No one knew how miserable I was at that moment, it felt like I was being torn apart and chopped into mincemeat. Ryan, the man I loved most, who constantly told me to trust his character. And now, they had a baby together. His “integrity” was a joke. He was trash. That very night, I betrayed Ryan. I hooked up with a younger guy. Then, I waited, pretending nothing happened, for Ashley and their new little family to come home. I watched Ryan personally prepare special recovery meals for Ashley. “Ashley, the baby’s here now. Can you divorce my husband?” Hearing my words, Ashley held her son, looking wronged and pitiful. “But the baby is still so young; he can’t be without a father…” “Ryan isn’t your baby’s father. You two are only fake-married,” I said, acting as if I knew nothing. Ashley started crying, holding her baby, looking fragile and helpless. Hearing the commotion, Ryan burst in, his voice sharp with anger. “Chloe, what is the meaning of this? Ashley is still recovering postpartum. Do you know how bad it is for her to cry right now? What if she gets postpartum complications later?” I sneered. “You’re *my* husband, yet you threw away a multi-million-dollar project just to wait on *her* during her recovery. What about me? What am I to you? Did you even consider my feelings, Ryan? If you two don’t divorce, I’m leaving you.” Seeing me threaten to leave, he immediately panicked.
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