Traded For A Dead Man's Ghost

This was supposed to be our wedding condo, yet here we were, finalizing the designs based on the preferences of my fiancs dead brothers widow.
On the walk-through, Dean frowned at the freshly applied slate-blue accent wall.
Have this wall repainted, he instructed the foreman. Switch it to a warm apricot. Willa always said warm colors make a place feel like home.
It was our home, a space meant for me, yet his entire aesthetic barometer was calibrated to another womans taste.
But this time, I didn't argue, I didn't push back, and I didn't offer a single, petulant complaint.
I calmly folded the architectural drawings. My voice was level, devoid of any discernible emotion.
Fine. Whatever you want. After all, the woman who hosts the home in your heart has always been Willa.
His fingers, mid-buttoning his cuff, froze. He looked over, a flicker of genuine shock in his eyes.
The condo was a catchperfect location, lavish finishes. Too bad the woman moving in wouldn't be me.
1
The drive back to the Walker estate was silent.
Dean glanced at me several times in the rearview mirror, clearly wanting to speak, but ultimately saying nothing.
I leaned my head against the window, watching the blur of sycamore trees rush by. My heart felt like a desolate, quiet field.
Five years. Thats how long it took me to finally face one brutal truth: Dean had never truly loved me. I was just a stand-in, a shadow filling the space while Willa wasn't there.
When we pulled up to the house, Mrs. Walker was waiting, welcoming me with a wide smile.
Avery, dear, youre here! Come wash up, I made your favoritebraised short ribs.
Mrs. Walker took my hand, her smile beaming. I offered a polite, detached, Thank you, Mrs. Walker, and followed her into the dining room.
My gaze immediately landed on Willa, seated next to Deans chair at the head of the table. She was wearing a soft lavender slip dress, her hair loosely pinned up, and an ankle wrapped in a bandage. She was painstakingly attempting to shift her chair.
Willa, I greeted her flatly, taking the seat opposite Dean.
She looked up at me. A flash of somethingwas it triumph?crossed her eyes before melting into a look of fragile vulnerability.
Avery, I hear you and Dean checked out the condo today? Im so jealous, she sighed, her voice soft. When Rhys and I got married, we barely had a proper studio apartment
At the mention of her deceased husband, her eyes immediately welled up.
Dean set his fork down. His voice was gentle, laced with concern.
Willa, dont think about those painful things. Your brother-in-law is here to take care of you now.
I looked down and sipped my water, a perfect outsider.
A year ago, I would have slammed my hand on the table and demanded to know whose fianc he actually was. Now, the desire to even fight was gone.
Mrs. Walker quickly intervened. Eat, everyone, the food is getting cold.
Dean carefully placed a piece of de-boned fish into Willas bowl.
Youre hurt, Willa. Fish is good for healing.
She offered a breathy thank you, her gaze flickering subtly toward my face.
I took a bite of my short rib, chewing slowly. It tasted overwhelmingly bitter.
Finished with the fish, Dean wiped his fingers on a napkin and, without looking up, scooped a chunk of kiwi from Willas salad bowl and dropped it onto my plate. The piece was still glistening with fish broth residue.
Avery, you should have some fruit. Vitamins.
I stared at the chunk of kiwi. I am severely allergic to kiwi. Even a trace of it can swell my throat shut. He knew this. He had sat with me in the ER while I was on an IV drip, but he had clearly never cared enough to remember.
Before, I would have pushed the plate away, my eyes burning with tears as I launched into a tearful accusation of his neglect.
Now, I simply pushed the dangerous piece of fruit to the far edge of my bread plate.
Im finished. I put down my napkin and stood up. Mrs. Walker, I have a headache. Ill go rest in the guest room.
Mrs. Walker looked surprised, but nodded quickly. Of course, dear, the linens are all fresh.
As I walked up the stairs, I heard Willas soft voice drift up from below.
Dean, this soup is so hot, I cant hold the bowl steady
Dont move. Ill feed you.
My foot paused momentarily on the step, but I didn't turn back. The intimate, bantering tones from downstairs pricked like fine needles on a heart already gone numb.
After dinner, I came downstairs, my handbag in hand, ready to leave.
Dean was on the sofa with Willa, watching a reality show. He looked up, a slight frown marking his face.
Youre leaving this late?
I have an early closing at the firm tomorrow, I said, my tone flat.
Ill drive you. He started to reach for his keys.
Dont bother. I called a ride-share.
Avery, he stood up abruptly, his voice tinged with irritation. What is your problem? Youve been impossible since the condo viewing.
I met his eyes. My mind was finally crystal clear.
Nothing is wrong. I just saw things clearly.
What things?
That you dont have me in your heart.
He stiffened, his gaze darting away. Stop being dramatic.
You know whether Im dramatic or not. I gave a shallow, detached smile. But it doesn't matter anymore. I dont want you, either.
I pushed the front door open and stepped out. I heard his quick footsteps behind me, but I didnt pause.
Just as I reached the edge of the circular drive, I heard Willas panicked, choked voice ring out.
Dean, please dont leave! My ankle is throbbing! I think the bone shifted
The sound of his footsteps instantly stopped.
The crisp autumn air was sharp, and it quickly dried the sudden wetness at the corners of my eyes.
I settled into the ride-share. The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror.
Little fight with the boyfriend?
I shook my head, gazing out at the blur of city lights.
No. Just refusing to play the supporting role anymore.
Back at my apartment, I pulled out my old phone and scrolled through five-year-old text messages.
Back then, Dean was an idealistic intern doctor, barely scraping by, and his eyes were only on me.
I scrolled through the silent slide show of old photos.
The year of the flash flood. I was stranded outside my office building, soaking wet. He gave me his only raincoat, got completely drenched himself, but laughed with a warmth that could melt anything. He was the top of his class; I was a fresh-faced attorney.
We were solid. He would get up at three in the morning to make me soup when I was pulling all-nighters on a brief. I said I wanted to see the Aurora Borealis, and he saved his stipend for a year to fly me to the Arctic.
He even made a solemn vow: No matter what happens, you will always be my first choice.
I was naive enough to believe that was my forever.
Then, two years ago, his brother Rhys died in a car accident, leaving Willa a widow. I knew Willa was their childhood friend, the quiet benchmark of perfection they both looked up to.
Dean said he had to be like a father to Willa, fulfilling his duty to his brother.
But somewhere along the line, his phone wallpaper changed to a family photo with Willa dead center.
He forgot my birthday, but remembered the exact date of Willas cats neutering surgery.
When I was rushed to the hospital for an emergency appendectomy, his reply was a one-word text: Busy.
I found out later that night, Willas house had lost power, and he had stayed up all night with her because she was afraid of the dark.
I finally understood: his devotion had only existed because Willa was married to someone else. I was the comfortable compromise. I was nothing more than a placeholder during his emotional vacancy.
The sudden ring of my phone sliced through the quiet. Deans name flashed on the screen.
I hesitated, then answered.
Be ready tomorrow. Were going to look at furniture.
His tone was completely authoritative, as if todays drama had never happened.
Okay.
I hung up, staring blankly at the ceiling. This, I decided, would be my last time playing my part.
The next morning, Dean arrived precisely on time. His favorite jazz station was playing softly in the car, and I leaned back, resting my eyes.
How did you sleep? he asked casually.
Fine.
He noticed my coldness, and his jaw tightened. He started to speak, but stopped himself.
Mid-route, his phone rang.
The ringtone was exclusiveit was Willa.
The moment he answered, his expression turned instantly anxious.
Willa? Whats wrong?
A panicked scream, mixed with the sound of thunder, came through the speaker. I couldn't make out the words, but Deans face went white.
Dont panic. Lock the doors. Im on my way!
He slammed the brakes, screeching to a halt on the shoulder of the highway, miles from any exit or town.
Avery, you need to get out and call a cab.
He didn't even look at me. His hand was already on the door handle.
I asked calmly, A reason?
Willas power went out in the storm, she has extreme nyctophobia! I have to go! He slapped the steering wheel in his agitation. Dont be difficult, Avery. This is an emergency!
Watching his frantic desperation, I remembered his vow: You will always be my first choice.
It was a worthless promise. It evaporated the moment Willa needed him.
I unclipped my seatbelt, pushed the door open, and stepped out.
The car sped away, disappearing into the torrential downpour.
The sudden storm instantly soaked my trench coat. We were on an isolated access road; getting a cab was impossible.
I pulled out my phone and sent my best friend my location.
Come get me. Im moving out.
Forty minutes later, my friend Sloans SUV screeched to a halt in front of me.
Dean is an absolute bastard! Sloan fumed, handing me a towel. Dumping you here?!
I was toweling my soaked hair, my expression serene.
Are you really doing this? Sloan asked anxiously through the rearview mirror. Five years is a long time
Exactly. Five years is long enough. I wont waste a sixth, I said, my voice hoarse. Cutting your losses is required learning for an adult.
Back at my apartment, I started packing.
The lace dresses I bought to mimic Willas style, the expensive skincare she recommendedall of it went into black garbage bags.
I looked at my reflectionno makeup, no pretense. I looked both strange and familiar. For five years, Id tried to live as another womans imitation.
Clearing every trace of him was liberating.
At eleven that night, my phone buzzed with a text from Dean:
Did you make it home?
I looked at the three words, thought of his retreating taillights in the rain, and my finger hovered over the screen for a moment before I tapped the button: Block Contact.
The world finally went quiet.
On Monday morning, I was at my firm to finalize my resignation. I had given notice two weeks earlier; today was my last day.
Deans hospital was only two blocks from my office. As I walked out of the building, hugging a box of personal effects, I ran straight into him.
He looked terribledark circles under his eyes, his face etched with exhaustion. Clearly, he hadn't slept.
Dean grabbed my wrist, his grip like steel.
Why did you block me?
Let go.
Answer me! His voice was a dangerous, suppressed whisper of anger. What kind of game are you playing?
Dean, were finished.
He froze, as if he didn't understand the language.
What did you say?
Im breaking up with you. I repeated, pulling my hand free. Excuse me.
You think this is how you make me compromise? He scoffed. This tactic is boring, Avery. Youll be back when you cool off.
I ignored him, stepping toward the curb.
Stop! He lunged, blocking my path, his voice low and threatening. Dont push your luck.
I looked up at him, feeling nothing but profound exhaustion. I used to care if you were angry. Now, youre just noise.
His expression solidified, as if he were seeing me for the first time.
Move. Im in a hurry. I hailed a passing taxi.
He roared behind me, Avery, you will regret this!
I got in the car without looking back. The window rolled up, sealing his shocked face outside.
Regret?
My only regret was not walking away sooner.
In the afternoon, I drove to Deans hospital. Not for a reunion, but to return his apartment key and parking pass.
The nurses at the front desk all recognized me, and I walked directly to his Chief of Staff office.
I pushed the door open, and there was Willa, sitting in Deans executive chair, idly fiddling with his fountain pen. The cream cashmere sweater she wore made her look elegant and demure. When she saw me, a hint of a victorious smile touched her lips.
Avery? Looking for Dean? Hes on rounds. Do you want to wait?
No. Just here to drop something off. I placed the key and pass on the desk.
She rose and walked toward me, her voice soft and conspiratorial.
I heard you two booked The Celeste Ballroom at The Observatory for the wedding? The ceiling is stunning.
She paused, a calculating glint in her eyes. Ive always wanted to hold a charity memorial for Rhys there, but their schedule is impossible
And?
Well, she bit her lower lip delicately. Do you think if I asked Dean, he would give me the date?
I smiled, a cold, empty gesture. You can try.
She was visibly thrown by my calmness.
The door burst open, and Dean strode in. He frowned when he saw us.
What are you doing here?
Returning the key. Now were even.
Wait, he stopped me, then turned to Willa. Willa, can you step out for a minute? I need to talk to her.
Willa nodded sweetly. As she passed, she gently tugged his sleeve.
Dean, the venue I mentioned
I heard you. Well talk about it later. His tone was slightly impatient, but he didn't refuse her.
After she left, the air felt thick and heavy.
Dean walked up to me, his voice softening. Avery, stop throwing a tantrum. Lets talk this out.
Theres nothing to discuss. I turned to leave.
Stay right there! He blocked the doorway. We are going to finish this conversation now.
I looked up at him, utterly drained. Dean, Im tired.
Youre tired? Go home and rest, dont cause a scene here.
Not physically tired, I pointed to my chest. Here.
He was momentarily stunned.
For five years, I tried to be the woman you wanted. I wore the clothes you liked, ate the food you preferredall just to get a single genuine look from you.
Avery
But I understand now, I cut him off. You dont love me. I was just the substitute you settled for while she wasnt available.
That is absolute nonsense! He was genuinely angered now. Haven't I treated you well? You have my bank cards, the condo is in your name, what more do you want?
I laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. My eyes stung.
Yes, you gave me a lot. Everything but your love.
Avery, dont do this!
He softened his tone, reaching for me.
Avery, please believe me, I do love you. But Rhys is only two years gone, and Willa is suffering. Im just trying to take care of her for my brother.
He stopped, then continued, his focus instantly shifting. By the way, Willa said she really needs that Celeste Ballroom date for the memorial. Its vital for her healing. Could we maybe postpone our wedding for a few months? Or switch venues?
I stared at him, suddenly feeling a chilling sense of disbelief and deep irony.
What did you say?
The wedding is just a ceremony. Our relationship doesnt need a spectacle to prove itself. Besides, were family. Willas needs are our familys needs. Be reasonable.
I looked at him for a long time, until he dropped his gaze, unable to meet mine.
Fine, I said, my voice barely a whisper. Give it all to her.
Dean let out a relieved breath and smiled.
I knew you would understand. After the memorial is over, we can
The venue, the wedding cancellation, and you. Im giving all of it to her.

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