He Chose the Copy, So I Disappeared

My fiancé was keeping another woman—a girl named Lily who looked almost exactly like I did when I was younger.

He spoiled her endlessly, giving her everything she could ever want. But he made one thing clear: she was never to confront me or cause a scene. Everyone knew I was his weak spot. If I didn't text him back within an hour, he'd completely lose it.

But Lily was ambitious. She used his obsession to send me 132 photos—along with a couple of empty Trojan wrappers.

"Hey Brittany, I know I'm just the stand-in. I know you two are getting married. But does Jake ever get this wild with you?"

"We've slept together 98 times since you started planning the wedding. 57 times in hotels, 31 at my place, and 10 times at your house. In your bed."

"Don't you get it? He doesn't love you anymore. Why are you still holding on?"

That's when it hit me: the boy who once looked at me like I was his whole world was gone.

I cried until my eyes were raw, staring at those pictures. Then I picked up the phone and called the disappearances agency.

"In seven days," I told them, "I want our wedding to turn into a funeral. I want to vanish—for good."

I'd just hung up when Jake burst through the door, frantic. "Brittany—why did you sell all the jewelry I gave you?"

I looked calmly at the pile of luxury boxes on the floor—the ones he'd clearly bought back. I didn't say a word.

Every time Jake cheated, he'd buy me another expensive piece of jewelry. The sapphire necklace was last year's anniversary gift. The pink diamond bracelet was for Valentine's Day. The rest were treasures I once held close.

Each was worth a fortune. But to me, now, they were worthless.

I used to think he gave them to me out of love. Now I knew it was just guilt.

I lifted my gaze, my eyes empty. "I just don't like them anymore. Wanted to sell them and get something new. You know—out with the old."

Jake still looked uneasy. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

I shook my head. Finally, he relaxed a little.

"Brittany, promise me—if anything's bothering you, you'll tell me. Okay?"

I smiled but said nothing.

He didn't push it, but he held my hand all night, not letting go until we fell asleep.

Just before sunrise, his phone rang.

I felt him slip out of bed carefully, trying not to wake me. He even turned his voice down to a whisper.

But in the dead silence of the night, every word was crystal clear.

At first, his tone was cold. "I'm getting married. Don't contact me again."

Then the person on the other end said something that broke his resolve. His voice softened into a tenderness I hardly recognized.

"Don't cry…" he murmured, comforting her like his own heart was shattering.

And my own tears fell, one by one, soaking into the pillow—broken pieces I could never put back together.

Jake hung up and turned to come back to bed—then froze when he saw me sitting up, fluffing my pillow.

He looked guilty. "Brittany… you're awake?"

"Work emergency," he stammered. "I've gotta…"

I nodded, not even interested in his pathetic excuse. I just asked, "Are you going out?"

That was all the permission he needed. He slid his black card into my hand.

"Something came up at the office. Take this—buy anything you want."