Refusing To Be His Perfect Replica, I Choose The Arranged Marriag by BlueMoone

Chapter 4

Seven years together. I’d thought that would mean something that Castro would at least trust my

character.

But in Oriana’s presence, those seven years might as well have been seven minutes.

Her word alone was enough to condemn me. One accusation, and I was guilty beyond redemption.

The favoritism was unmistakable, his blind devotion to her undeniable. And me? I was just the understudy who’d forgotten her place.

There was no point in arguing further. Ignoring Castro’s angry calls, I walked away, my cheek still stinging from his slap.

Not wanting to cast a shadow over my colleagues‘ celebration, I quietly settled the bill and texted them: “Something came up. Please enjoy the rest of the evening – dinner’s on me.”

home, I found myself really seeing our apartment

corner held memories: the window seat where we’d shared Sunday morning coffee,

each memory a thorn in my heart.

the matching “Beauty and Beast” slippers, the “his and hers” coffee mugs that fit together, and a whole collection of professional couple photographs–holiday cards, vacation shots, carefully staged moments of perfect

what we had was real. Now they were just artifacts of

an elaborate performance.

didn’t come home

last jewelry designs,, I systematically emptied the apartment. I sold or donated

its original state: stark minimalist, black and white, emptiness echoing

I tried calling him one last time. Each attempt met with

rejection.

Chapter 4

a text appeared:

you’re ready to admit your guilt and properly apologize to Oriana, we have