Chapter Two

He never saw me

I woke up to the sharp trill of my phone the next sad morning. I grabbed it from the coffee table beside the bed, my heart sinking when I saw the caller ID. Raymond. Quinn’s friend, and the last person I wanted to hear from right now.

Reluctantly, I answered. “Hello?”

“Anastasia,” his voice drawled, oozing fake concern. “I just wanted to check in. Quinn mentioned things were... tense last night.”

My grip on the phone tightened, as I ram my hand through my hair. “What do you want, Raymond?”

He chuckled, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Just making sure you’re not planning to make this divorce messy. It’s better for everyone if you just sign the papers and move on.”

The audacity of it made my blood boil. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“Oh, but this is my business,” he said smoothly. “Quinn doesn’t need the stress of a dragged-out divorce. Just sign the papers, Anastasia. Take the money, the house, whatever you want. You’ll be better off.”

The line went dead before I could respond. My hands shook as I set the phone down, anger and humiliation coursing through me. How dare he? How dare they? As if my life could be summed up by a dollar amount, as if my dignity was something they could buy and toss aside.

I sat up, clutching the sheets around me as if they could somehow shield me from the hollow ache in my chest. The divorce papers sat mockingly on the nightstand, pristine in their neat little folder. Imagine being slapped with a divorce paper after sex. I wanted to cry again, but my eyes felt dry. It was as though I’d run out of tears.

Naomi's knock on the door startled me. “Ma’am?” Her voice was soft, and hesitant. She must have heard me crying last night. Naomi always knew when something was wrong.

“Yes?” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat.

The door creaked open, and her concerned face peeked inside. “I brought you some tea,” she said, stepping in with a tray. She placed it carefully on the nightstand, her eyes darting to the folder before flicking back to me. “You didn’t come down for breakfast.”

I forced a smile. “Thank you, Naomi. I’m just... not hungry.”

She hesitated, then perched on the edge of the bed, her brow furrowing. “Is everything okay?”

I didn’t answer right away. My fingers traced the edge of the tea cup as I struggled to find the right words. How do you tell someone that your husband handed you divorce papers on your birthday? That he wanted to throw away three years of marriage as if they meant nothing?

Finally, I whispered, “Quinn wants a divorce.”

Her sharp intake of breath was audible. “What? But why? Did something happen?”

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. “He’s never loved me, Naomi. I think... I think I was just a placeholder. A substitute for someone else.”

Her expression hardened. “That’s not true. You’re kind, beautiful, and...”

“And not Veronica,” I interrupted. The name tasted sour on my tongue. “He’s loved her all along. I was foolish to think I could ever be enough.”

Naomi opened her mouth to argue, but I held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter now. He’s made up his mind.”

She looked as if she wanted to say more, but instead, she reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. “You don’t deserve this, ma'am. You deserve someone who sees your worth.”

I swallowed down, nodding. “Thank you, Naomi.”

After she left, I forced myself out of bed. I couldn’t wallow, not today. The mansion felt eerily quiet as I wandered downstairs. The staff moved about their duties in silence, as though afraid to disturb the fragile silence.

I found myself in the living room, staring at the framed wedding photo on the mantel. We looked so happy in that picture, Quinn in his suit, and me in my simple yellow sundress. My fingers brushed over the glass, tracing his face. The man in the photo wasn’t the same man who had crushed me last night. Or maybe he was, and I’d just been too blind to see it.

The sound of my phone buzzing again pulled me from my thoughts. This time, it was a news notification. I hesitated before opening it, my heart sinking as I saw the headline.

“Billionaire Quinn Winfrey Spotted with familiar Mysterious ex model—Sources Say Sparks Are Flying again.”

The accompanying photo showed Quinn leaving a high-end restaurant with a stunning woman on his arm. My chest tightened, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I stared at the screen, the image burning into my mind. The woman looked just like me—same dark hair, same delicate features.

I was sure this wasn’t a coincidence.

Did he marry me because I looked like her? Because I was a replacement?

He was fucking playing me?

The room spun as I tried to grasp the reality of what was happening. The pain setting on my chest. I stumbled to the bed, clutching the tablet tightly.

How could I have been so blind? So naive?

Tears streamed down my face as the pain consumed me. But beneath the heartbreak, there was something else.

Anger.

For the first time in three years, I felt it burning in my veins.

I was a literal substitute for three fucking years? He used me and made me feel like absolute trash because of someone else.

What did I ever do? What?!

I sank onto the couch, my head in my hands as the tears finally came. I cried for the life I thought I’d have, for the love I foolishly believed in, and for the emptiness and pain that now consumed me.

He never loved me, he never saw me.