Three Years as a Stand-In

It’s been three years since Lily started treating me as a replacement, and she still doesn’t love me. She replaced all our travel photos with those of her deceased childhood sweetheart. She even turned these photos into a travel diary of their love story. Under each photo, she meticulously wrote: “Journeying together with you.” From the beaches of Miami to the mountains of Colorado, I accompanied her every step of the way. Yet in every picture she recorded, the face wasn’t mine. Until once again, with tears in her eyes, she looked at me and said in a pitiful voice: “I’m feeling so awful with this pregnancy. Don’t you know how to comfort me?” I brushed her hand away, my voice trembling slightly: “If it’s so awful, then get rid of it.” I discovered that travel diary while cleaning up the mess she had vomited all over the floor. She had brazenly left her love diary right on the desk. She wasn’t afraid at all that I would find it and be hurt. She didn’t even bother to close the cover. The photo on the first page was of her and her deceased childhood sweetheart, Ethan. It was from 7 years ago. The edges of the photo had yellowed, and some parts were worn from being frequently touched by its owner. Below the photo was a line of text, written in a strong hand that was clearly not Lily’s. “First stop on our love journey.” With trembling hands, I flipped through the travel diary. At the end were photo records of our trip to Miami last week. On Miami Beach, she cupped my face in her hands, smiling brilliantly. In the photo now, Lily was still smiling just as brilliantly. But the face she was cupping wasn’t mine - it was that of her childhood sweetheart who had died 7 years ago. She had replaced every single photo of us with someone else’s. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Lily getting up. After hastily closing the diary, I walked out of the study. As always, she called out to me in a soft, sweet voice: “Honey.” On any other day, I would have pulled her into my arms and gently kissed the top of her head, telling her: “Breakfast is ready. I’ve already eaten and am about to head to the office.” But today, I only said: “I have an early meeting.” Ignoring the surprise in her eyes, I walked towards the front door, ready to leave. But she ran over, planting a light kiss on my cheek of her own accord. Looking at her still-swollen eyes, a wave of nausea suddenly hit me. Because in her travel diary, there was a yellowed note tucked inside. It looked quite old, and on it was written: “Ethan says he must get a good luck kiss before leaving each day.” I thought back on the 3 years I’ve been with Lily. Every single day when I left for work, no matter what she was doing, she would run over to give me a kiss. Little did I know, this was just her fulfilling a promise made to Ethan. She was carrying out with me the things she never got to finish with Ethan.