I THOUGHT I WAS HIS SUBSTITUTE

I wanted to divorce my husband, Vincent, so I went down to the county courthouse in a fit of temper.

I had just pulled out my phone when a stream of comments popped up in the air in front of me. The comments said he had never taken me seriously in the first place.

They said he'd married me only to spite his family, and that the moment the woman he actually wanted came back, he'd throw me out. [Piss him off and your dad's company goes under, and he'll torture you to death.] I stared at the comments and placed the call.

He picked up, his voice low and amused. "Having second thoughts?" I tightened my grip on the phone. "I—I'm serious.

Bring your ID and get down here." Chapter 1 A single beep, and he hung up. My hands were shaking when I dialed again. It rang a long time before anyone picked up.

It was Vincent's assistant. "Hello, Mrs. Ashworth. It's Alex. Mr.

Ashworth is tied up at the moment." I pressed my lips together, picking at my fingers without meaning to. "Could you ask him how long he'll be?

I'm waiting for him at the county courthouse." "Of course, ma'am. One moment." Three seconds later, Alex was back. "Ma'am, Mr.

Ashworth says he's busy all day and he'll be working late tonight. He says you should go on home." I didn't say anything.

Alex spoke again. "Should I come pick you up?" "No, no, no." I turned it down in a hurry. "Don't go to any trouble. You're all busy, you're busy…" I hung up.

I leaned back in the chair, put a hand to my forehead, and let out a long breath. It was a scorcher of a day, and that call had still put a cold sweat all across my forehead.

Set everything else aside. My dad really does own a small company. Vincent was thirdgeneration money, the handson kind who could take the family company overseas.

Putting my dad out of business would be easy for him. And if I made Vincent angry right now, and he wanted to torture me to death, that would be even easier.

Ten minutes of calming down, and the more I thought about it, the more impulsive it seemed, the way I had pushed him.

If I was really going to divorce him, it had to be gradual, slow, graceful. I'd wait until the female lead actually showed up, and leave then.

So I took out my phone and texted Vincent: [I'm home already. Remember to eat lunch. And eat dinner on time too.] Unexpectedly, Vincent answered in seconds this time.

As brief as ever: [Mm.] Once I was home there was no room left in me to feel sorry for myself. Because a whole crowd of living things was waiting to be fed.

A dozen or so koi in the pond, plus two big tanks inside, three parrots, and a garden full of vegetables, fruit, and flowers.

After I'd waited on all of them, I took an ear of corn the housekeeper had boiled and sat down under the grape arbor to work my way through it.

The comments came back. [I can't with this. The ML's mansion is basically a pet store now thanks to the SL.

She's dragging the whole place down.] [The SL doesn't look one bit like an oldmoney daughter. More like she came out of some backwater.] [LOL she DID come out of a backwater.

Her dad's new money. No idea how she ever landed the ML.] I smacked my lips a couple of times. Chapter 2 The comments had it right, actually. I grew up in the country.

After eighth grade there was no money at home, and the only road left was the county public high school with a job on the side.

Then the dad I hadn't seen in ten years turned up and said he'd made it big. And then he turned around and put me in the best private prep school in the state.

I stumbled my way through high school, and to put those notsogood memories behind me I deliberately picked a college in a city far away.

Not long after I finished my master's, my dad called. "Baby girl, quit knocking yourself out. Come work at my company." So I went back, happy about it.

But when my dad met me at the airport, he had something else to say. "Baby girl, your dad's arranged a marriage for you.

You are going to be thrilled." And so, two days later, I met Vincent in a coffee shop.

Dark, striking features, broad shoulders, narrow waist, a presence that took up the whole room. My first thought was: pigbutchering scam. Then I thought again.

How would my own dad set me up to be hurt? So I had one meal with Vincent, and in a daze we went down to the courthouse and got the certificate.

I'd thought I'd get a wedding of my own. I didn't. I never met Vincent's parents either. Not a big deal, my dad said.

We were the ones living the life, so if we didn't meet, we didn't meet. After we married I gave Vincent whatever he asked for, because in high school he'd helped me twice.

I knew how far behind I was, so every night I stayed up late working problems. One time I'd taken cold medicine and just couldn't hold out, and I dozed off in math class.

The math teacher caught me and told me to go wash my face in the restroom and wake myself up. I went.

But when I came back I knocked and stood in the doorway, waiting to be called in. The teacher never once acknowledged me, and I stood out in the hallway for the whole period.

After class I asked the girl in the next seat to lend me her notes. She smiled and said, "Give it up, Jessamy.

You're so far behind, reading them won't do a thing." She kept it up, sweet and needling, long enough to wake Vincent, who was catching up on sleep in the front row.

Vincent got up with a black look on his face, walked all the way to the last row of the classroom, and tossed his notes to me. The other time was in tennis.

The coach told us to find our own partners and practice. I'd barely touched a racket, and everyone quietly steered clear of me.

Nobody would pair with me, so the coach sent me to pick up balls for everybody else.

I was on my third ball when Vincent, who the coach had long since excused from showing up at all, came around with a racket in his hand.

And so the worst player in the class and a junior tournament champion became partners.

The Ashworth Group's strategic focus at this stage was overseas, and a lot of it needed Vincent on the ground to make the calls, so he flew out of the country at least twice a month, a week at a time at minimum.

Which also meant that when he needed me, it was basically so I could take care of his physical needs. One year of marriage, more apart than together.

It seemed like the only place he and I ever got familiar was in bed. His last trip had lasted a month. He got home at ten last night, showered, and took me straight to bed.

I blanked for a second, put a hand against his chest as he came down over me, and asked, not happy about it, "I made a lot of food.

Don't you want to try any of it?" "No." He turned it down flat. And I hadn't eaten either, because I'd been waiting to have dinner with him.

I stayed with him past midnight, until I didn't have the strength left to cry, and I put it to him, my voice gone raw. "Could you hold back a little next time?" Vincent answered with a question of his own. "Aren't you my wife?" Maybe it was how entitled he sounded, maybe it was how little he cared.

In that instant my temper came up and I shoved him off me, hard. Chapter 3 "Then let's get divorced. County courthouse, tomorrow morning." Vincent acted like he'd heard a joke.

He caught my wrists without effort and pinned me under him. "When the clerk asks about the grounds for divorce on the form, what are you going to say?" That made me angrier.

I yelled at him, "I'll say you're a pervert." Vincent stayed just as unbothered. "Fine. Go ahead. Call me when you regret it." Out of pure spite, I actually went the next morning.

That was as far as my memory got before the comments appeared again. [I genuinely cannot work out what the ML sees in the SL.] [She's got a great dad, that's what.

New money is always shrewd. He married and had a family in the city and left the SL out in the sticks for over ten years without lifting a finger.

He only put her in the best prep school because she had some looks on her.

He was counting on her meeting a few powerful people so he'd have something to fall back on later.] [Once he found out she was isolated and bullied in high school he gradually gave up on her.

In college all he sent was living expenses. But after she finished her master's, his company hit real trouble, so he decided to gamble.

Marry the SL off to somebody rich and cash in. And he actually pulled it off.] [The ML already had someone he loved.

He wanted to marry the FL right out of college and his family shut it down hard.

He was too young then, he had no power yet, so he couldn't fight it, and by the time he could, the two of them had already missed each other.] [Right when the SL's dad was in a hurry to turn her into cash, the ML's family was pushing him to marry.

The newmoney guy heard about it somehow and pulled strings to get the SL's basic profile in front of the ML, making a point of how obedient and naive she was.

The ML wanted anybody at all to spite his parents with, so he said yes on the spot. That's how the man sold his own daughter.

For a full five million dollars!] [If you're asking what the ML sees in her, probably that she's dumb and easy to fool. Goodtempered too. No wait, she has no temper at all.

Push her too far and the worst she does is cry a while by herself, and she doesn't even need to be talked down, a couple of kisses and she's fine.

Which is why the ML can make her cry every single time without a second thought.] I lowered my lashes.

Sunlight came down through the gaps in the grapevine and landed in the diamond of the wedding ring on my left hand, throwing off a glare that hurt to look at. So that was it?

The person I trusted most and the person I'd kept in my heart for years had made a deal out of me. A little after nine that night I was in the living room watching TV.

My dad called. "Baby girl. You busy?" "No." "Oh." Marv let out a little chuckle. "Then your dad'll come right out with it.

I've got a project going, real good outlook, I'm just a little short on funding.

See if you can find the right moment and put in a word with Vincent—" "Dad." I cut him off and sighed. "Being short on money is God telling you this isn't a project to keep going with." Marv's tone changed on the spot. "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means Vincent's money doesn't grow on trees.

He's still at the office working right now. Stop burning through it." Marv flared up. "You ungrateful little brat, taking his side against your own family!

You think you'd have the life you've got if it weren't for me? I raised you for nothing!" "Mm. You've worked hard, and I'm very grateful. Get some rest." "You—" I hung up.

Then powered the phone off. Then turned off the TV. Upstairs, I showered and made up a guest room for myself.

Chapter 4 Once I was lying down I couldn't stop going back over the comments from earlier that day.

In high school Vincent always had a cold face on him, but he never lacked for people chasing him. And still nobody ever heard of him being with anyone. Not even a rumor.

So first, rule out the possibility that the girl he loved was someone from high school. Move on to college.

With Vincent's looks and his standing, there was no way he'd have settled for pining in silence, which led to the conclusion that in college Vincent had a love affair he'd never get over.

I sighed and rolled onto my side. The comments came again. [You know what, from this angle the SL does look a bit like the FL.] [Right, right.

There's a really blurry photo in the sleeve of the ML's wallet, the FL asleep on her desk, turned to one side, hair falling partly over her face.

The resemblance is real.] That explained it. More than once I'd woken up in the morning to find Vincent watching me.

But we'd hold each other's eyes for less than two seconds before he looked away and got out of bed. So maybe what Vincent was working out on me wasn't only stress from the job.

I was still staring into space when a string of quick footsteps came up outside the door. The next moment the door flew open. I flinched, lifting my head a little to look toward it.

A tall, straightbacked figure stood in the doorway. It was Vincent. He didn't come any farther in. So I lay back down. Closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

Two minutes later the slow, heavy steps came closer. Vincent sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn't turn on a light. He just looked at me. I couldn't keep it up.

I opened my eyes and gave him a dry little smile. "You're back." He still didn't say anything. His face wasn't good either. He looked almost fierce.

I quietly pulled the covers up until only my eyes showed. Vincent watched me in silence for two seconds and stood up.

I thought he was leaving and was about to turn over, and then he bent down and lifted me up, blanket and all. "Phone dead?" Vincent's voice was a little rough.

I hesitated, then nodded along with him. "Forgot to charge it." Out in the hallway the light fell across him, and only then did I see the thin sheen of sweat at his temple.

I looked down and found that Vincent still had his dress shoes on.

I frowned and tested the waters. "Was there something urgent you needed me for?" Vincent paused a second. "No." I said, "Oh." Both my arms were wrapped up in the blanket.

Only my neck could move. I turned my face away and set my chin glumly on his shoulder. Out of nowhere I thought about that love affair of his again.

So I asked, muffled, "Vincent, missing someone doesn't feel good, does it?" Vincent's stride hitched. "After this year, it won't be this busy." I knitted my brows and tried to follow him.

Was Vincent saying that next year, when he wasn't this busy, he could go find that girl?

So I asked, "And by next year, will your parents have come around?" This time Vincent was quiet for a long while.

I realized I might have said the wrong thing, and rubbed my head against the side of his face to comfort him. "Okay, okay. I won't ask." Vincent put me down on the bed.

Once I was settled he turned and went toward the bathroom.

I closed my eyes, and the second I heard the shower start I got out of bed and ran down to the first floor, where I found my phone on the couch.

It powered on and four missed calls popped up at once. Three from Vincent, one from Marv.

Chapter 5 Putting that together with the look on Vincent's face earlier, I could work out that when Marv couldn't get through to me, he'd called Vincent instead.

I sighed to myself and took the phone upstairs.

Back in the room I still couldn't let it go, and after going back and forth for a long time I went out on the balcony and called Marv. "Sweetheart, did Vincent—" "What did you say to him on the phone?" Marv paused, a little put out. "I just asked whether he had time this weekend to come to the house for dinner with you.

Then he said he was still at the office and he'd ask you when he got back." I let out half a breath. "That was him turning you down politely.

You really don't see that?" Marv said nothing. I kept going. "Dad, stop asking him for money. Five million dollars is plenty.

I'm not worth that much." Marv was silent for two seconds. "That five million… Vincent told you about that?" I hesitated, and before I could answer Marv let out a sudden laugh. "Back then he had me keep it quiet, and now he lets you find out.

What, does he regret marrying you?" I pressed my lips together. "It isn't about regret. This marriage is just something to get through. There's nothing between us. It won't last.

Sooner or later there'll be a divorce." Marv's temper flared all at once. "What do you mean sooner or later? I don't agree to that! Put him on the phone.

Back then—" "Dad." I cut him off, calm. "Don't bring up back then. It'll happen whether you agree or not." "And please don't call him about money.

It puts me in an impossible position. That's all. Get some rest." I hung up, breathed out lightly, and pulled myself together. Then I turned around.

Vincent was standing in the balcony doorway. I had no idea how long he'd been listening. Vincent looked at me without a word