“But Curt Dudley has been lying to you.”

“If you don't believe me, try something tonight. Don't drink the orange juice he gives you, and see what happens……”

So tonight, when the orange juice came—

I didn't drink it.

Pretended to. Tipped the glass, let it touch my lips.

The second Curt left the room, I ran to the bathroom and spat every drop out.

He thought I was dead asleep, same as always.

He had no idea I heard every word.

“You haven't done anything out of line these past few days, have you?”

Curt pointed at the security camera in the living room,

a mocking smile curling the corner of his mouth.

“Whatever you've done, I already know.”

“I'm warning you—you're here as my stand-in. While I'm busy with Lila, you keep Georgia from catching on.”

“If she notices anything off, I'm coming for you first.”

Cigarette smoke drifted through the room.

I could picture it—Curt on the living room couch, cigarette pinched between his fingers, exhaling smoke like he had all the time in the world.

Rage climbed up from somewhere deep inside me.

Every night, I thought it was Curt lying next to me.

And all along, for Lila—he'd sent a stranger to spend the night in my bed. Three years. Three whole years.

After a long silence, the stand-in spoke again, hesitant.

“Mr. Dudley, Miss Pruitt still hasn't realized I'm a stand-in. Do we really keep going?”

Richard Gilbert lowered his eyes.

“I'm afraid if this goes on much longer, things will spiral out of control……”

Curt just laughed softly and clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax. You're the one person I trust.”

“When I first had you step in after the wedding, it was because I couldn't stand leaving Lila alone.”

“Georgia had no clue. The entire honeymoon, it was you beside her the whole time.”

“Three years and she still can't tell the difference.”

“With a brain that dense, she'll probably go her whole life without figuring it out.”

Something dimmed in Richard's eyes. He opened his mouth, then stopped.

“But things have been different lately.”

“Miss Pruitt, she……”

Before he could finish, a flush crept up behind his ears.

I knew exactly what he was trying to say.

These past few months, I'd been clinging to him harder at night.

Kisses and holding weren't enough anymore.

I'd been wanting more.

He was barely holding it together.

Curt looked Richard up and down, amused. “I know what you're worried about. Don't be.”

He clapped the man on the shoulder again, casual and easy, like none of it mattered.

“You can't even function in that department. It's not like I don't know.”

“Even if I put a real beauty in front of you, you wouldn't flinch. Let alone someone as plain as Georgia……”

Richard said nothing. His throat moved once, barely.

He was thinking about last night.

Georgia in a lace nightgown, every line of her slender figure traced by the fabric.

Just thinking about it made his eyes burn.

That was……plain?

“Mr. Dudley, she's still your wife. It's not really fair to her. Maybe tonight, you could stay……”

Richard hesitated, wanting to say more.

Curt cut him off, impatient.

“I don't have time. Lila's pregnant. I promised her I'd take her to her prenatal checkup tonight……”

His phone rang. He took the call, and within minutes he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

“Richard. Play your part—be a good stand-in.”

“Remember, no matter how much I despise Georgia Pruitt, she's still the wife I married and brought home.”

“You can look. You don't touch.”

Richard nodded, obedient and quiet. “Okay.”

The living room door slammed shut.

A few seconds of hesitation.

Then the bedroom door handle turned, and the door swung open.

I squeezed my eyes shut, kept my breathing slow and even, pretending I was still deep in the sleep the sedative was supposed to have given me.

His footsteps were soft, as if he didn't want to wake me.

Richard walked to the edge of the bed and stood there for a while.

I could feel his gaze on me, heavy with something complicated.

“Georgie?” he called, barely above a whisper.

I didn't move.

He was silent for a few more seconds, then reached out and gently lifted the sleep mask from my eyes.

The room was dim. Only the small amber nightlight was on.

I didn't dare open my eyes. All I could do was track his movements by feel.

Richard sat on the edge of the bed and watched me for a long time without speaking.

Then he raised his hand and touched my face.

A shudder ran through my whole body.

The next second, his hand drifted slowly downward, fingers trailing along my neck……

Every muscle in me went taut.

Curt had warned him. This was only a performance. He wasn't allowed to touch me. Had he gone rogue?

Did Richard actually feel something for me……

While my mind was still racing,

I heard a faint sigh from just above me.

“Georgie, if only I were the one who'd married you.”

“If only……”

“I were Curt Dudley.”

Richard leaned down and pressed a light kiss to my forehead.

Then he stood and went into the bathroom.

The water turned on.

Unlike Curt, Richard showered fast. He was out in under ten minutes.

He climbed into bed so carefully, as if afraid of disturbing something fragile.

He lifted one corner of the blanket and slid in beside me.

Same as every other night, his hand slid to my waist and loosely held on.

Restrained. Distant.

Deliberately polite.

Like completing a task.

I laughed to myself, cold and silent.

Three years. Every single night, the same thing.

If I was “asleep,” he'd just hold me like this, proper and still, until morning.

If I wasn't “asleep,” he'd follow Curt's instructions: “kiss her a couple of times, make it look intimate.”

But he never crossed the line.

Because Curt wouldn't allow it.

And because Richard “couldn't.”

I didn't know how long I lay there, until the breathing beside me turned deep and steady.

Only then did I open my eyes in the dark.

In the spill of moonlight, I could see the face of the man beside me. He really did look like Curt.

A single thought.

It rose slowly inside me.

The next morning, by the time I got up, Richard was already gone.

Breakfast sat ready on the table, along with a handwritten note.

“Had to go in for overtime. Don't forget to eat. Love you.”

My gaze dropped to the signature at the bottom.

I smiled, slow and knowing.

The handwriting was trying its hardest to imitate Curt's.

But everyone has their own habits when they write.

Pay even a little attention, and the tells are obvious.

I finished breakfast and stared out the window at the empty garage for a long time, thinking.

If I'd heard correctly last night,

one very familiar name had come up.

Lila Mercer.

Curt's ex-girlfriend from eight years ago. The old flame everyone thought had burned out for good.

She'd come back to the country.

And she and Curt had been rekindling it in secret—for three full years.

I picked up the phone and called Gwen.

“Gwen, is there a pregnant patient named Lila Mercer at your hospital?”

Gwyneth Sullivan sounded surprised for a moment. “Let me check for you right now.”

She seemed to be in the middle of eating. I heard her set something down, then the rapid clatter of a keyboard.

A minute later, she said, “There is one.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Can you send me the surveillance footage?”

“Done.”

One look.

That was all it took.

Curt Dudley had been cheating on me for a long time.

In the footage, he was guiding Lila by the arm, careful and intimate. Her belly was visibly rounded, five or six months along at least.

He leaned down and murmured something near her ear.

Lila's eyes curved into crescents as she laughed, reaching up to give his chest a playful little punch.

There was no audio, but the picture said everything.

Gwyneth's call came right after.

“Georgia, did you see the video?”

“Yeah.”

“That Lila……”

Gwyneth's voice went careful. “She's pregnant. Six months along—that's when the chart was created.”

“And the father listed on the record is Curt Dudley.”

My fingers went white around the phone.

“Confirmed?”

“Confirmed. I checked the system. Her OB is a colleague of mine, and I asked. Curt has been at every single prenatal checkup. Hasn't missed one.”

Gwyneth hesitated, then couldn't hold it back. “Georgia, has Curt been cheating on you this whole time?!”

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. “Yes. And he's been lying to me for three full years.”

The other end of the line went quiet for a few seconds.

“What?”

“Three years of marriage, and he has never once touched me.”

My smile tasted like ash. “Every night, the man who walked into my room was a stand-in he hired.”

“He was at the hospital holding Lila's hand through her checkups. His stand-in was in my bed, playing house.”

Gwyneth sucked in a sharp breath.

“Holy shit.” She swore, then, “Is Curt Dudley even human?”

“He's not.”

My voice was calm. “He's an animal.”

“So what are you going to do?”

I took a slow breath. “Delete the footage.”

Gwyneth was stunned.

“Georgia Pruitt, have you lost your mind?”

“That evidence took real effort to dig up! Even if you file for divorce down the line, you could use it in court!”

“You'd just delete it and let those two walk away clean?”

I smiled faintly. “Divorce? Why would I want a divorce?”

Men were the one thing this world never ran out of.

Curt Dudley played me for three years.

So why couldn't I return the favor?

Gwyneth wanted to press further.

But I told her to keep it quiet and hung up.

As expected, the person who came to see me during the day was the real Curt Dudley.

Richard only appeared at night.

But right now, I wanted Curt to……disappear.

So I paid off a few people and had a handful of dried beans scattered across the path Lila walked every day.

That afternoon, sure enough, Curt's face drained of color the moment he took a call. He grabbed his jacket and bolted for the door.

I poked my head out of the study.

“Honey, where are you going?”

Curt didn't even turn around. “Important client I need to meet. Have the housekeeper make you dinner. I'll be back to keep you company later!”

Before, even when he was lying to my face,

he would at least commit to the devoted-husband act. He'd never slipped this obviously.

But I let a slow smile settle on my mouth and turned toward the attic.