The maids say you make breakfast for Lucien. Take him on walks. Sit by his bed, reading every night.
Celeste let out a mocking laugh, shaking her head. Seriously, Val. Dial it back.
Did you forget who you’re supposed to be pretending to be? Their mother cut in, her voice slow, and—Venomous! You really think he’s going to marry you again? He belongs to Celeste, to this family, not to you. Valeria looked up, meeting their eyes for the first time. She wasn’t angry, but something softened quietly in her gaze.
He’s not who you think he is, she said. Celeste laughed, loud and cruel. Not who we think he is? What, not some blind fool easy to manipulate? Valeria clenched the edge of her chair.
He’s kind, he’s perceptive, he deserves to be treated with decency, no matter who loves him. The room fell into a rare moment of silence. Their mother raised an eyebrow, looking at her like she was a child who had just spoken a fantasy aloud.
You really think he cares about you? Her voice turned to ice. You’re a placeholder. Valeria, he doesn’t know who you are.
He loves Celeste. And if he finds out the truth, what do you think he’ll do? Celeste added, twisting the knife. You think he’ll forgive the woman who impersonated someone else? Or spit in your face for lying next to him under my name? Valeria pressed her lips together, but this time her eyes didn’t well up.
She stood, faced them both. If he finds out and he chooses to walk away, I’ll still know I did the right thing, because at least I never treated him like a transaction. The two women froze, just for a moment.
Then her mother spoke, like casting a curse. Don’t fool yourself into thinking this is love. You’re borrowing a place that was never yours.
And when I take it back, you won’t have the right to cry. The door slammed behind them. Valeria stood still.
She had never fought back like that before. But the strangest part was this time she wasn’t afraid. All that remained now was a single question.
If Lucien knew everything, would he see her as a betrayer or the only one who ever treated him with honesty? When the door closed behind her mother and Celeste, Valeria didn’t cry, she didn’t scream. But something inside her cracked. Not a shattering quake, but a slow, quiet fracture, like someone carving away at the last layers of trust she had left.
She left the room and wandered down the long hallway to the back veranda. Sunset was fading, the final light of day slanted through the sheer curtains, painting the garden in a pale orange hue, delicate, fleeting. Like her.
Valeria sat at the edge of the porch, where the sun’s last rays were slipping beneath the trees swaying in the wind. She hugged her knees to her chest, as if they were the only thing keeping her from falling into the endless black void inside her. Her mother’s voice still echoed in her ears.
Celeste’s laugh folded into it like a cruel whisper in a locked basement. You’re just a second-rate copy. You don’t get to love.
She hadn’t fought back as much as she’d wanted. She’d only managed one sentence, he’s a good man, and somehow that was enough to make her mother laugh, as if she’d just heard a cheap, ridiculous joke. Valeria buried her head in her arms, her tears no longer fell in waves.
They came one by one, heavy and slow, like her heart wasn’t beating any more, just bleeding. Behind her there was the faintest sound. She didn’t need to turn around, Lucien.
He sat down beside her, no questions, no words, just silence, but it wasn’t empty, it was thick, weighty, full of everything neither of them could yet say. After a long moment his voice came, low and steady. Have you ever wished you were someone else? Valeria looked up, the question pierced straight through her ribs.
Yes, she whispered. Every day, Lucien nodded, slightly, without judgment, then he leaned in, his hand reaching out to touch hers, not to hold, just to touch, like he needed to make sure she was still there. If one day I get to see you— He paused, as if tasting the weight.
Of his words, I’m afraid I won’t want to look away. Valeria turned toward him, aching to meet his gaze, even though she knew it wouldn’t matter. He couldn’t see her, and yet in that exact moment she felt more seen than ever before.