The Stand-In Wife

The Stand-In Wife

Ryu · Completed · 5.7k Words

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Introduction

Stella’s car knocked me off my bicycle and sent me sprawling on the ground.
When Ethan hurried over, his first love let out a long breath of relief. “Darling, you’re here. His assistant can work out the compensation with you.”
The man took off his made-to-measure suit jacket and wrapped it around her, but his gaze had landed on my injured leg, and stayed there.
“You two know each other?” she asked, suspicious.
Ethan pulled his eyes away, took her hand, and turned to leave. “No.”
I sat on the curb in silence, cleaning up my wound. Not a flicker of emotion inside me.
After all, when he handed me that prenuptial agreement three years ago, the very first clause had been absolute secrecy about the marriage.
You can’t get an Uber in Boston during morning rush hour.
Dragging my hurt leg, I limped off toward the hospital.
Two months left. My three-year contract with Ethan would be up.
And it would be time for me to go.

Chapter 1

Stella’s car knocked me off my bicycle and sent me sprawling on the ground.

When Ethan hurried over, his first love let out a long breath of relief. “Darling, you’re here. His assistant can work out the compensation with you.”

The man took off his made-to-measure suit jacket and wrapped it around her, but his gaze had landed on my injured leg, and stayed there.

“You two know each other?” she asked, suspicious.

Ethan pulled his eyes away, took her hand, and turned to leave. “No.”

I sat on the curb in silence, cleaning up my wound. Not a flicker of emotion inside me.

After all, when he handed me that prenuptial agreement three years ago, the very first clause had been absolute secrecy about the marriage.

You can’t get an Uber in Boston during morning rush hour.

Dragging my hurt leg, I limped off toward the hospital.

Two months left. My three-year contract with Ethan would be up.

And it would be time for me to go.

 Chapter 1

The truth is, I’d always known there was a first love in Ethan’s heart.

I just hadn’t expected that the girl who knocked me down on a Boston street today would be her.

The black Maybach braked hard at the curb. When Ethan came striding over, I lost my focus for a second — instinctively thinking he was coming to help me up.

But the girl in front of me was already fluttering like a butterfly, throwing herself into his arms.

“Ethan, what do I do? I hit someone.”

The man draped his suit jacket over her shoulders, his voice steady and gentle. “Leave it to me.”

I pulled my gaze back, slow and dull, and looked down at my scraped knee. The mystery of why he’d been staying out all night these past weeks was finally solved — Stella was back in the country.

She poked her head out from his arms and gave me an apologetic smile.

“My boyfriend’s here. I’m so sorry to hold you up from work — whatever compensation you want, just talk to his assistant. He’s rich. He’ll agree to anything.”

I said a quiet thank you.

The assistant standing off to the side froze completely. As an executive assistant at the private equity fund, he was one of the very few people who knew about my secret marriage to Ethan.

“Ma’am—I mean, miss.” The assistant stammered, his eyes dropping to my leg and freezing there. “Your wound — it’s still bleeding? It’s been half an hour. Do you have a clotting disorder?”

I nodded. “A mild one.”

Ethan turned at the sound, his voice dropping. “A clotting disorder?”

Stella looked baffled. “What is it?”

He acted as if he hadn’t heard her, his eyes nailed to my leg, to the blood that wouldn’t stop, his brows drawn tight. Stella finally sensed something was off and looked us over with suspicion. “Do you two... know each other?”

There was no way Ethan would let his first love find out he had a secret wife. He masked the flicker of emotion in his eyes in an instant and put the icy look back on.

“No.”

He took Stella’s hand and walked away, tossing an order over his shoulder to the assistant. “Take her to the hospital.”

Their backs receded into the distance. I declined the assistant’s escort.

“I’ve already called a car. Just transfer me today’s lost wages — two hundred and thirty-seven dollars — and we’re square.”

The assistant left with a complicated look on his face. I sat on the curb and put a bandage over the scrape. Then, just my luck, the Uber driver cancelled because of traffic.

I had no choice but to push myself up off the pavement and limp, dragging my bad leg, toward the hospital’s administration building.

Today is September 28th.

Exactly two months until my three-year contract with Ethan expires.

I should start getting ready to leave.

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