My boyfriend, Aiden Henson, has face blindness. He's always mistaking other people for me—especially when it comes to taking them to bed.

So when he did it again, I silently handed over a condom and leaned against the doorway to wait.

He sensed something was off. Tried to explain. Said he'd been drinking, saw wrong.

I didn't react. My fingers just drifted up to touch the brand-new marriage certificate tucked inside my coat.

Sure, his mistake was unintentional. Forgivable, even.

After all, I'd also had a little "face blindness" incident recently—and accidentally married someone else.

——

The winter wind sliced through the empty hallway, sharp against my skin.

I stood outside the door, listening to the filthy sounds from inside, mentally counting the minutes.

A few moments after the creaking stopped, I pushed the door open.

"Aiden. How many times this month?"

He was already dressed, draping his coat over the girl, handing her a towel and a few pills with practiced ease.

"My face blindness acted up again." He shrugged. "Mistook her for you."

"You're just too charming. Couldn't help myself."

Couldn't help himself—so he found another woman and brought her to my bedroom.

I had nothing to say. I looked at the girl on the bed instead.

Young. Nervous. Probably a college student. She hugged the sheets to her chest and shrank back under my gaze.

I sighed and turned toward the door.

"Ten minutes. Get dressed, take out the trash, and get out."

My eyes flicked to the condom on the floor. The implication was clear.

Aiden grunted in acknowledgment and escorted the girl out, leaving me standing alone in the dark.

The room reeked of sex. Trash still littered the floor. I wrinkled my nose.

Using a room where he'd just screwed someone else as our marital bedroom—bad luck didn't even begin to cover it.

I started packing. Clothes, documents. I'd leave the moment he got back and we settled things.

Aiden returned like nothing had happened, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the bathroom.

I yanked free—too hard. My foot slipped on the tile and I crashed into the bathtub, my forehead splitting open on impact.

He scrambled for the first aid kit, hands shaking as he bandaged me.

"Isabel, what the hell is wrong with you? What if something serious happened?!"

His face blurred. Only when something scalding slid down my cheek did my vision clear again.

"Then next time you bring a mistress home," I said quietly, "you won't need an excuse."

His hands froze.

A beat later, he pulled me into his arms, chin nuzzling my neck, voice dropping to a coaxing murmur.

"I really did mistake her for you. Don't overthink it. Things will go back to normal."

I didn't want to overthink it. But the man who was supposed to marry me couldn't even recognize my face—and every few days, he brought home a different woman.

It was disgusting.

I'm a person. Not a saint. And this relationship? I was done with it.

He saw me spacing out and leaned in to kiss me.

I bit him.

The taste of rust flooded my mouth. He jerked back with a hiss, surprise flickering across his handsome face. Blood trickled from the corner of his split lip.

I turned away.

"Aiden. Let's break up."

He stared at me for a second—then scoffed.

"Isabel, stop messing around. My parents sponsored you. If you leave me, who else do you think would want you?"

Later that night, my best friend—also sponsored by the Henson family—somehow found out about my plan. Her texts came flooding in, one after another, trying to talk me out of it.

"Aiden just mistook someone else for you, didn't he? What are you nitpicking about? You've known each other for more than twenty years, you were just one step away from getting married, can't you forgive him?"

"Besides, even if Aiden was faking it and really cheated, that's because you're not good enough. Isn't there a saying online about why the newcomer ends up on top? Isn't that because you don't fight or compete!"

"Alright, you and Aiden just be good together. After a while, get married and then have a kid, and everything will go smoothly. I'm only advising you like this because I'm your best friend. Otherwise, who would even care about you!"

……

I turned off the phone that kept vibrating and stared blankly at the dried-up tree stump outside the window.

I thought about a lot.

From when we met to graduation to our almost-married life.

From blaming Aiden to blaming myself.

From being glued to him 24/7, to tailing him to the biggest singles bar in the city, where he casually pointed at a stranger and told me to get a marriage license with that man.

That night, they played games for hours.

The wildest one was making a random man and woman at the bar go get legally married.

I happened to be standing in the corner he pointed at.

He didn't recognize me.

I didn't move. Aiden pulled out a black card and gestured toward a man sitting alone in the shadows, pouring himself a drink.

"Go get a license, and all of this is yours."

Twenty million dollars for a marriage certificate.

Even split down the middle, it would be enough to pay back every cent my adoptive parents had spent on me over the years.

The table was covered with ID cards—everyone had tossed theirs in for the game.

Mine was tucked right under Aiden's.

He was too drunk to notice.

His assistant recognized me and hurried over, trying to smooth things over, tactfully explaining that Aiden was wasted and didn't mean it.

I nodded. Then, amid the cheering crowd, I reached my hand out to the man Aiden had pointed to.

"Want to get married?"

At dawn, morning light fell across the marriage certificate in my arms.

I blinked my dry eyes.

The bedroom door opened. Aiden walked in, sobered up now, a coat draped over his shoulders.

"Stop being mad. Those women mean nothing to me. If I hadn't mistaken them for you, I wouldn't have even looked at them."

"If you really don't believe me, let's go to the hospital for a premarital checkup, alright? Come on."

I agreed—but not for the reason he thought.

An abortion.

I was married to someone else now. I couldn't keep his child.

And while I was at it, I'd make things clear and cut all ties.

In the passenger seat, he'd prepared motion-sickness patches and hot water for me, like always.

Spare slippers sat in the trunk so I could change when my feet got tired.

Except the patches were all cutesy cartoon designs now, and the slippers were a size too small—like they'd been bought for some other girl.

We breezed through the hospital entrance without a hitch.

But when it came time to fill out forms, he hit a wall. He tried to write down my phone number.

After mumbling to himself for a while, he still couldn't remember it. He scrolled through his endless contact list for ages without finding it, and finally just wrote down his own number instead.

"Don't worry—as soon as the results come out, I'll show you!"

I didn't care. I wasn't even his partner anymore. He didn't need to show me anything.

"Aiden, I'm married. No need to show me."

By the time I finished speaking, he'd already turned and walked into the exam room. I don't know if he heard me.

Whatever. There's plenty of time ahead. He'll find out sooner or later.

My turn came.

Less than twelve weeks pregnant—I registered with gynecology.

The doctor looked at me, hesitating.

"Ms. Pruitt, I don't mean to overstep, but it wasn't easy for you to get pregnant. Are you sure you want to terminate?"

Ever since my miscarriage, getting pregnant again had been even harder.

But this child was the tie binding me to Aiden Henson—and it had to be cut.

After taking a number, on the way to the gynecology department, a completely unremarkable girl walked straight up to me.

"Isabel, do you have a pad?"

She covered herself with both hands, a spot of red showing through—her period had leaked.

Out of sympathy, I gave her a new pack. And because of that, I was targeted by a group of people.

They grabbed my hair and slammed my head into the wall, spewing filthy insults.

"Everyone, look! This old hag is jealous—she's practically menopausal herself, so she's tormenting a college girl!"

The girl who'd borrowed pads from me stood in the middle of the crowd, a trace of provocation in her eyes.

I remembered her. She was the college student in Aiden's bed last night.

People really can't be judged by appearances. Such a frail, gentle-looking girl—yet when she spread rumors, she was vicious.

"At a young girl's most vulnerable moment, this old woman put insect eggs in the pad!"

"Look, she even registered for gynecology—maybe she's got some dirty disease?"

"Strip her clothes off and let's see what she's hiding!"

They raised their phones, shutters clicking relentlessly at my face.

Two fists can't beat four hands. I curled up on the ground, clutching my clothes tightly. The medical staff didn't dare intervene, afraid of getting burned.

Right before my clothes were torn apart, a familiar figure squeezed through the crowd.

With me surrounded by everyone, he found that college student with perfect accuracy and pulled her out first.

He shielded her carefully. Only when someone called my name did he seem to remember something and squeeze back in. After scanning the crowd for a long moment, he finally pulled me out.

"Isabel, give me your hand!"

I'd barely caught my breath when his scolding crashed over me like a wave.

"Isabel! Why are you still using such despicable methods? Are you trying to ruin her?"

"What happened to you? Did getting older make your heart more vicious too?"

"If you keep this up, I won't marry you!"

I looked into his eyes. My throat felt stuffed with cotton, making it almost impossible to breathe. It took everything I had to stay standing.

I opened my mouth, but in the end, I only managed a flat "Mm." No explanation would work. He'd never believed me. He'd never been afraid of losing me.

But old?

I'd just turned twenty-five. Even if I wasn't as young as that college student, I shouldn't be called old.

That night at the bar, when I was taking the marriage certificate photo with someone else, the staff had even said I looked young.

Aiden reached out, frowning, a trace of regret flickering across his face.

"I'm sorry. I was too anxious. I spoke too harshly."

I curled my lips into a faint smile.

"It's fine." After crying too many times, his instinctive cruelty couldn't hurt me anymore.

One or two harsh words also made it easier to see him clearly.

He moved to hug me. I stepped back.

This wasn't behavior that should exist between us anymore.

Thinking that, I felt I should tell him about my marriage again.

"Aiden, actually, I've already—"

Behind me, Tessa spoke up, cutting me off.

"Aiden, it hurts... I think it's infected."

He let go of me instantly and turned to leave.

I watched his retreating back, and the last trace of attachment in my eyes disappeared.

This wasn't the first time he'd chosen someone else when given a choice between us.