His Two Wives

1
The tender momentmy husband and I, foreheads pressed together in a lingering farewell at the train stationwas captured by a stranger and went viral.
It should have been just another sweet video, blessed with well-wishes. But then one comment blew it up, sending it rocketing to hundreds of thousands of likes and shares.
[Dude, you should delete this! That's my boy, and his wife's about to have their baby!]
I found it absurd, almost laughable. The man I had just legally married, the man I was planning my wedding with, couldn't possibly be someone else's husband.
But the rumor spread like a plague. "The Great Online Mistress Hunt" became my trending hashtag. The flood of messages in my inbox was unbearable. I needed my husband, Matthew, to clear the air.
That's when I overheard his friend's teasing voice through his office door.
"Man, you must be exhausted, juggling Ava and Nora these days."
Matthew just chuckled. "Nora's throwing a fit because she found out Ava and I got our marriage license. Shes dead set on making Ava a laughingstock."
I stood frozen at his office door, a chill seeping deep into my bones.
The Ava he was talking about was me.
And Nora was his adoptive niece.

"Does Ava even know you and Nora used to be a thing?"
My mind went blank, a deafening buzz drowning out everything else.
"It doesn't matter"
The sharp ring of his phone cut Matthew off, snapping me back to reality. The second he pulled the door open, I arranged my face into a look of perfect, pleasant surprise.
"Ava? What are you doing here?" his friend asked.
I forced a smile, my heart hammering against my ribs, and gave a small nod. My gaze drifted past him into the office, and the smile froze on my face.
Where my carefully chosen monstera and palm plants used to be, there was now a sprawling collection of Labubu art toys.
"Your hands are freezing," Matthew said, ending his call and wrapping his warm hand around mine.
I pulled away, gesturing toward the army of vinyl figures. "Have you forgotten about your allergies? Your asthma?"
He followed my gaze, a look of confusion on his face before it melted into a fond, indulgent smile. "Oh, that. Nora said my office was too stuffy. She wanted to 'update my aesthetic.'"
The name "Nora" had never sounded so grating.
Matthew was a man who valued his boundaries. He never let anyone intrude on his personal space. I remember our first real fight, back when I had spent weeks researching the best air-purifying plants for his health.
"Ava, I hate it when people cross the line," he'd said, his eyes filled with an undisguised annoyance that stung.
Even after a year together, I had blamed myself, convinced I hadn't respected him enough. The day I was finally allowed to add my own touches to his office, I naively thought I had finally broken through his walls and earned a place in his heart.
But Nora had only been back in the country for a month, and every trace of me had already been erased.
If I hadn't overheard their conversation, I might have tried to rationalize it, telling myself they were just a close uncle and niece and I was being petty.
But I had forgotten. They weren't related by blood at all. Nora was just the daughter his older brother had informally taken in years ago.
I forced a smile. "Well, I don't like them. Get rid of them."
Matthew's smile faded, his expression darkening. His voice dropped. "They're just toys, Ava. Don't you think it's a bit petty to pick a fight with a young girl over them?"
I nodded, my smile never reaching my eyes. "Oh, I'm more than just petty. I hold a grudge." I paused, my voice steady. "Is there anything you're hiding from me?"
My jaw tightened, my fists clenching at my sides. I fought to keep my breathing even, to hide the frantic rhythm of my heart.
He stared, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "You see right through me, don't you? I was planning a surprise, how did you find out?"
He spoke as he slid a box across the desk toward me. But my attention was snagged by the open drawer beside it. Inside lay a necklacea pendant shaped like the right half of a heart.
The strange thing was, Id seen its other half. On Nora's Instagram. I had even liked the post, the caption a giddy declaration: [Your left side is all mine now!]
The diamond ring he slid onto my finger was too big.
My hand went slack. The ring slipped from my finger and clattered to the floor. A sharp, needle-like pain pricked at my heart as I watched Matthew awkwardly bend down to retrieve it.
"I'm so sorry, Ava," he stammered. "Nora's so unreliable. She swore your hands were the same size. I'll have it resized immediately. Please, don't be angry."
My fianc, using his "niece" as a cover, had ordered my engagement ring based on his ex-girlfriend's finger size.
When they were picking it out together, being praised as the perfect, loving couple were they getting off on the thrill of some twisted, forbidden taboo?
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. "I found the person who started the rumors about me being a homewrecker," I said flatly.
He froze for a second.
I met his eyes, my voice calm and serious. "It was Nora. I'm going to file a police report."
"Don't be ridiculous!" Matthew's face hardened, his brow furrowing. "She's my niece, Ava. Soon she'll be your family too. You're going to have her arrested?"
All it took was one mention of Nora, and the mask of the gentle, sophisticated man I loved shattered.
"And you didn't have a problem calling animal control on my brother's puppy, did you?" I asked softly.
He sputtered, speechless.
The day Nora came over to pick up some documents, my brother had brought his puppy to visit. While I was in the kitchen making tea, the dog had jumped on her in the garden, leaving a faint scratch on her arm. Matthew had dropped everything at work and rushed home.
"That mutt should be put down!" he had roared.
But the security footage showed the whole story: Nora had been yanking the dog's tail, hard, causing it to react in fear. At the time, I just thought he was being overprotective. I smoothed things over, and after the puppy was taken away, I secretly pulled some strings to get it back.
He must have realized his own hypocrisy. He sighed, his voice softening. "Ava, when did you become so unreasonable? It was just a dog, a dog that had already hurt someone." He paused. "And even if Nora did start the rumor, it was just a silly joke. Is it really worth making such a big deal over?"
I looked down, pressing back the storm of pain inside me.
So, in his eyes, the humiliation of being publicly branded a homewrecker, of being torn apart by the entire internet, was less significant than a scratch on Nora's arm that could be covered with a Band-Aid.
Seeing my silence, he must have mistaken it for surrender. He reached out, pulling me into a gentle embrace. "We're getting married soon. The rumors will die down on their own. We'll have so many more happy moments to capture."
A future built on lies and deceit can never be happy, I wanted to scream.
In the end, Matthew did manage to kill the online buzz.
The day before my birthday, he showed up with a bouquet of flowers as a peace offering. "Nora didn't mean any harm. She knows she was wrong! She even got you a birthday present."
On my birthday, our house was filled with guests. Very few were my friends or family. Most were strangers to me, all orbiting around Nora.
She was a vision in a striking red dress, her makeup flawless. She and Matthew, dapper in a black suit and white shirt, moved around the kitchen together, a picture of bizarre domestic harmony.
As the last dish was served, Nora placed a single shrimp in my bowl. She winked playfully, her tone laced with triumph.
"Ava, I can't believe you got so upset about those little toys in Uncle Matthew's office. I made you this dinner myself, so you can't be mad at him anymore, okay?"
Her words painted me as a petty, irrational girlfriend, jealous of an innocent niece. The guests shot me strange, judging glances.
I looked at Matthew.
He seemed oblivious to the subtle shift in the room's atmosphere. "Ava, Nora spent a whole week learning how to cook this meal just to apologize. You have to try it."
I took a deep breath. "I'm allergic to shellfish."
Nora's lips curved into a smirk. "Oh, whoops! My bad, Ava. How about some tofu instead?" She spooned a heap of it into my bowl.
My fists clenched under the table. I kept my eyes locked on Matthew.
I'm allergic to soy, too.
Of all the dishes on the table, the only thing I could eat was a plate of steamed greens. Matthew knew that. He had to know.
But he just leaned in, his face grim, and whispered, "Ava, just eat the tofu. We have your allergy medication here, you'll be fine. Nora has a lot of pride. It took a lot for her to apologize. She's acting out a little, but you're the adult here. Don't stoop to her level."
A slow, cold smile spread across my face.
I understood.
I picked up my bowl. Under Matthew's relieved gaze, I lifted my arm and flung its contents across the table.
"Ah!" Nora shrieked.
Matthew had shielded her from the worst of it, but her hair was still matted with sticky, crumbled tofu. She looked pathetic.
I smiled sweetly. "Since I'm the adult, I guess it's my job to teach the younger generation a lesson. You're welcome to it."
Matthew shot up from his chair, his hand flying through the air.
The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the room.
And in that instant, my world went utterly silent.
Matthew stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
I spent my birthdaythe first one without him in seven yearssurrounded by the wreckage of our dinner. He didn't come home that night. I contacted a lawyer to draw up divorce papers.
Just as I was about to text Matthew, my phone started buzzing relentlessly. A torrent of abusive texts from unknown numbers.
[You're famous now, you fucking homewrecker!]
[Got a thing for married men, huh? You a professional or something?]
My hands trembled as I opened up the trending topics. The train station video, the one he had suppressed, was back at number one. My boss called and told me to stay home for a while. A mob of "homewrecker hunters" had already shown up at my office. My personal information had been leaked.
My mind was a chaotic blank when another text popped up.
[So what if you have a marriage license? His heart belongs to me. You're the one who has to hide in the shadows!]
[If it wasn't for that stubborn old man at the Vance estate, I would have been Mrs. Vance years ago!]
The messages from Nora kept coming, one after another. I read them numbly, piecing together the story I had been too blind to see.
Matthew's grandfather, the patriarch of the Vance family, had never approved of the orphaned Nora. When he discovered their secret relationship, he gave her a choice: a large sum of money and a new identityas the adopted daughter of his eldest son. He threw a city-wide banquet to publicly announce their new, purely platonic "uncle-niece" relationship.
Matthew fell into a deep depression, convinced Nora had chosen money and status over him.
And that's when I appeared. The perfect rebound. The perfect foundation for seven years of a beautiful, hollow lie.
Tears blurred the screen of my phone. The last message from Nora, an attached photo, was the thing that finally shattered the last thread of my sanity.
In the picture, Matthew was on one knee, dressed in a sharp tuxedo and bow tie, tenderly kissing Nora's hand.
And Nora was radiant in a magnificent white wedding gown. They looked perfect together.
[I bet you didn't know this, did you?] she wrote.
[The same day you two were filmed at the train station? He and I were taking our wedding photos.]
That day. I had taken the train to another city to consult a specialist for Matthew's asthma.
"I should just cancel my meetings," he'd murmured, his voice thick with reluctance as he pressed his forehead to mine. "I hate that you have to go alone."
My heart had swelled with love. "Don't be silly! You already came all the way to the station with me, you even bought an extra platform ticket. You're spoiling me!"
"Every extra second with you is worth it," he'd whispered.
That moment, captured by a stranger's lens, the moment I thought was a snapshot of our perfect happiness it was a lie from the very beginning.
I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand.
Oh, Matthew.
If that's how we're playing this, then I have a gift for you, too.
Matthew came home right after I posted our marriage certificate online.
I had fallen asleep on the sofa and woke to find him in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, making breakfast. He saw me, froze for a moment, then sighed and looked down.
"Why are you barefoot again?" he asked softly, his voice laced with a guilty sort of weariness.
He moved to kneel, a familiar, practiced motion. But just before his fingers could touch my ankle, I pulled my foot back and slipped it into my slippers.
His hand hovered, frozen in mid-air.
"Thank you," I said, my tone polite, distant.
For some reason, my courtesy seemed to infuriate him. "The things they've been saying online these past two days they're disgusting," he said, his voice ragged with frustration. "Why didn't you call me?"
I gave him a cool, placid look. "You were busy with the wedding. I can handle it myself."
A flash of shock crossed his face. But when he realized I had brought up the wedding myself, the tension in his brow eased. He reached up, his movements fluid and confident, to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
I flinched back.
The small movement seemed to wound him deeply. His face crumpled with regret. "Ava, I'm so sorry. That slap I was out of my mind. Please, don't be afraid of me. I lost control, and I regret it more than you can imagine."
He grabbed my hand, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "Let me be honest with you, okay? Nora was just angry that you embarrassed her in front of all those people. She pushed your video back into the spotlight behind my back. The moment I found out, I took care of it. And I read her the riot act."
"She knows she was wrong. She promised me she'd never do anything like it again."
He was apologizing now, right after Id revealed our marriage certificate. It was hard not to suspect he was just afraid Id press charges.
But it didn't matter anymore.
I nodded, pulling my hand from his grasp. "Okay."
His brow furrowed, and he recaptured my hand, his grip possessive, as if to prove that his love for me was unchanged. The gesture reminded me of a hundred other arguments. I would always pull away, using physical distance to mask my vulnerability. And he would always see through my brittle defenses, stubbornly pulling me back into his arms.
I looked at him, my voice even. "Matthew. Is there anything else you're hiding from me?"
Just tell me the truth, I pleaded silently. And I will let you go with dignity.
He met my gaze, his eyes shining with what looked like absolute sincerity. "There's nothing else, Ava. I swear."
"There never will be again. My past, my future it's all yours."
I smiled, a genuine, liberating smile. "Good."
Because my future will have no place for you.
The wedding day drew closer. As tradition dictated, we weren't supposed to see each other for the week leading up to it. His friends threw him a bachelor party, but Matthew was uncharacteristically distracted, his eyes constantly on his phone.
"You're seeing her tomorrow, man. Do you have to stare at your phone all night?" one of his friends teased.
Matthew offered a weak smile. "You wouldn't get it, you're single."
His friend laughed, not offended in the slightest. "I gotta hand it to you, Matthew. Getting a woman as proud as Ava to just accept you carrying on with Nora right under her nose, without a single fight? You're my hero, man!"
Another guy chimed in. "What are you talking about? He just thinks of Nora as a niece."
"A niece you can kiss and cuddle? Hahaha, that's some forbidden fruit right there!"
The room erupted in laughter. Matthew, like any man, basked in the ego-stroking, but my brief, ordinary texts sent a strange unease crawling under his skin.
"Watch your mouths," he warned, his tone suddenly serious. "My only wife is Ava. Nora is in the past."
On the day of the wedding, his anxiety intensified.
But then he saw the custom light fixtures I had designed myself. He saw the venue overflowing with pink roses, my favorite flower. He relaxed, laughing at himself for being so nervous he was rubbing his thumb raw.
He watched the beautiful bride walking toward him, a vision in white. He made a silent vow to cherish me for the rest of his life.
When the officiant told him to lift the veil, Matthew's hands trembled with eager reverence. He swept the delicate fabric aside.
And his face went ghost white.
The bride beamed up at him, her eyes shining with manic joy.
"Uncle Matthew! I'm finally marrying you!"

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