Puppet in the Mirror

Sorting through my husbands suit pockets, two identical receipts for designer cologne slipped out.

It was from the bespoke brand I frequented, and for a moment, I thought it was a surprise hed planned for me.

Then his new assistant walked past, and the sharp scent of fir instantly jolted my memory.

"Mr. Brown actually gifted you such an expensive cologne?" I asked, feigning casualness, watching her blush and deny buying it herself.

But on her earlobe dangled a pearl stud identical to mine, and the silver bracelet on her wrist was an exact match. Even the trench coat she wore was a limited edition Id just bought last month.

My gaze drifted to the floor under her desk, where a mens underwear package was half-hidden.

I smiled, patting her shoulder with a light, admiring tone. "Your taste is really something."

"You even know my husbands favorite brand of underwear?" I lowered my voice on the last part, making it a whisper.

Elaras face went white.

She instinctively kicked the paper bag further under her desk.

I smoothed my cuff, then took out the receipt Id kept in my bag and gently laid it on her workstation.

"Two identical receipts. One is mine. Wheres the other one?"

Her lips trembled. She started to speak, then swallowed the words.

The office door swung open.

Aidan Brown walked in, carrying the crisp chill of the outside. He glanced at me, his eyes softening almost imperceptibly, a familiar gesture. But when his gaze shifted to Elara, it held a flicker of apprehension.

Elaras tears came quickly, perfectly timed. Her voice wavered as she curtsied to Aidan.

"Mr. Brown, Professor Grey might be mistaken. I honestly didn't know I was using the same cologne as her."

With one sentence, she absolved herself completely, and in the same breath, painted me as irrational.

I looked at Aidan, waiting for his response.

He stepped past me, slamming a file onto the desk. "Molly, stop this. Shes just a kid fresh out of college. Why are you making a fuss over her?"

My head buzzed. For five years, he had never once publicly embarrassed me. Today, for an assistant, he told me to "stop making a fuss."

I stared into his eyes for three seconds. I knew those eyes so well. They had sparkled goofily on our first date, turned red as a rabbits on our wedding day. Now, they were empty, a blank slate.

I placed the receipt in front of him. "Two identical colognes. One is on my vanity, one is on her. Explain."

Aidan didn't even spare it a glance. "The company is testing client scent sensitivity. I had her buy it as a sample. What are you imagining?"

He took a step forward, his hand moving to my waist out of habit.

I shifted half a step to the side. His hand met empty air.

From an angle he couldn't see, Elara raised her hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The pearl stud was revealed. It was a design I had drawn myself, custom-made. There was only one pair in the world.

She wore an identical one.

She looked at me, a faint, fleeting curve to her lips. Then it was gone.

My stomach churned. Not because of her, but because I remembered.

That winter, during my junior year of college, it was ten degrees below freezing. Aidan had stood in the snow for three hours to find a fresh fir branch for my bookmark. His lips were purple with cold, but he smiled as he handed it to me. "My Molly, you deserve the purest scent."

Now that scent clung to a human copy machine, complete with matching earrings, bracelet, and trench coat.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked to the door.

Aidan called out my name. "Molly."

I stopped, but didn't turn around. "Aidan, you always touch your watch with your left hand when you lie. Your tells, you can't get rid of them."

Behind me, the silence was deafening.

As I stepped into the elevator, the metal doors slowly closed. In that final shrinking sliver of a gap, I saw Aidan grab Elara by the back of her neck.

There was no tenderness, no affection. Only a brutal, almost crushing malice. And Elara didn't struggle; she instinctively shielded her head and face, as if accustomed to it.

Was he feeling guilty? But what about the cologne, the receipts?

The elevator doors shut. I stood inside alone, my mind a swirling mess.

Back home, I knelt in the entryway to change my shoes. On the bottom shelf of the shoe rack, a pair of silk slippers, pale pink, size 6, caught my eye. I wore a size 8.

I stared at them for a long time, until my knees ached, then stood up. I picked them up and examined the solesfaintly worn. Theyd been used.

Aidan returned late that night, reeking of alcohol. He was a different man from the daytime. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist from behind, burying his face in my neck. "Molly, never look at me like that again."

When he kissed me, I smelled alcohol mixed with the cloying sweetness of hand lotion. My stomach convulsed violently. I shoved him away and rushed to the bathroom, dry-heaving over the toilet. Nothing came up but bitter bile.

A loud crash echoed from outside the door. Hed kicked and shattered the floor vase in the hallway. Shards of porcelain cut his ankle, blood flowing onto the floor.

He stood in the bathroom doorway, his eyes shifting from adoration to a kind of savage fury Id never seen. But he didn't come in. He just stared at my back for half a minute, then turned and walked away.

The next day, after teaching my university class, I went to the underground parking garage to get my car. Aidan's Mercedes was in my parking spot, the driver's door open.

Stepping out was Elara, wearing a camel knit sweater identical to mine.

She showed no panic at seeing me. She pulled a car key from her bag, her voice soft and timid. "Professor Grey, Mr. Brown said you don't like driving this car and it was a shame for it to collect dust, so he lent it to me."

My car, my cologne, my earrings, my clothes. Was he going to move my husband out next?

I said nothing, walked to the passenger side, and took out my key. From the front of the car to the back, I scratched a deep, white line.

Elaras face turned ashen. "Professor Grey"

"I don't care about my trash. It shouldnt bother you if its scratched, right?"

The facade on her face cracked, a glint of malice flashing in her eyes.

Her phone rang. She answered, instantly switching to a tearful voice. "Mr. Brown, Professor Grey seems very upset"

The call was on speaker. Aidan's voice came through, utterly devoid of warmth. "Let her smash the car if she wants. What right do you have to upset her? Get back to the office."

I listened, feeling no triumph. Because I remembered a time, years ago, when Id accidentally scraped this car, too scared to say anything. Aidan had flown back overnight from out of town. His eyes were bloodshot as he held me, checking me from head to toe. "Are you okay?"

That kind of favoritism was pure. What was it now?

A scoff came from my left. Dr. Ashton Hayes leaned against a pillar nearby, twirling his car keys, having watched the entire scene unfold. He walked over, handing me a wet wipe.

"Wipe your hands."

I took it, cleaning the car paint residue from my fingers. "Dr. Hayes, youre unusually quiet today."

"Because you wouldnt like what I have to say." He pulled out his phone, showing me a screenshot. A bank transfer record. Aidan had discreetly deposited three million dollars into Elara's family account in multiple transfers.

My hand holding the phone was steady. My heart rate was calm. Only the numbers on the screen blurred for a moment.

Ashton offered no comfort. "Does this hurt already? Molly Grey, your supposedly brilliant mind is completely useless when it comes to judging men."

That evening, I returned home with the transfer record. Aidan had just gotten out of the shower, his hand, wiping his hair with a towel, paused. Then he tossed the towel onto the sofa. "What did you dig up now?"

I turned the phone screen towards him. "Three million. Elara."

He didn't even lift an eyelid. "Business operation. Some accounts can't go through the company's official channels. She's just a proxy. Is it interesting to investigate so thoroughly?"

"A proxy?" I laughed. "What kind of proxy needs to wear my clothes, use my cologne, mimic my hairstyle?"

"Aidan, do you think I'm so dumb from studying that I can't see through your pathetic little 'training' game?"

His expression changed. He lunged, closing the distance between us, and gripped my jaw with one hand. The bloodshot veins in his eyes were terrifyingly dense. "Do you think I want to see her wear your things?"

"Molly, don't push me. Don't look into this anymore."

I pried his fingers off, leaving a red mark on my jaw. "When you choked me, and when you choked the back of her neck, was it the same hand?"

His hand froze in mid-air, unable to retreat for a long moment.

Three days later.

Our fifth wedding anniversary.

I booked a table at the French restaurant where we first met, and wore the white dress he loved. I was seated at eight, and waited until midnight. The waiter refilled my water five times, his expression shifting from eager to sympathetic.

He never called.

On the way home, my stomach problem flared up. The pain was so intense I couldn't straighten up. I hailed a cab and went to the nearest emergency room.

Pushing the IV pole, I shuffled to the end of the corridor, where the VIP room door was ajar. The blinds werent fully closed. Aidan stood by the bed, Elara propped against the headboard, her face pale.

His back was to me, and he was spoon-feeding her hot soup, blowing on each spoonful to cool it before bringing it to her lips. "Eat. If you don't, I'll force it down."

Elara seemed terrified of displeasing him, swallowing the scalding soup with effort.

What truly broke me was Elara's hair. Shed just had it cut, the length and curve an exact match to mine. By the pillow on the bed lay a rare poetry collection by Neruda. Id taught from it in class last week; it was a version sold by only one online retailer.

Through the crack in the blinds, she saw me. She didn't hide. Instead, she grabbed Aidan's sleeve, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness. "Aidan, Professor Grey has a sensitive stomach. If you stay with me tonight, will she be upset?"

Aidans back stiffened for a second. He put down the soup bowl, his voice cold and irritable. "Don't mention her. She's too aloof. She'd rather suffer in silence than make a fuss, unlike you who knows how to charm."

Too aloof.

She'd rather suffer in silence.

He knew I was in pain. He just thought my pain didn't require his attention. Because I was the one who wouldn't trouble him.

My stomach spasmed violently, cold sweat trickling down my forehead. I slid down the wall, collapsing onto the floor. Only then did I notice the white dress was stained by the wheels of the IV pole. His favorite white dress, the one Id worn specially for our anniversary.

I couldn't smile.

Suddenly, a pair of hands scooped me up from the ground. Ashton, on his night shift, carried me in his arms and rushed towards the emergency room. As we passed the VIP room.

He gritted his teeth, uttering only two words. "Bastard."

There was a commotion in the room, and Aidan snapped his head around. But Elara was quicker. She ripped the IV needle from the back of her hand, blood splattering the sheets, and wrapped her legs around his, sobbing hysterically. "Aidan, don't go! What will I do if you leave?"

His feet froze. He looked across the hallway at me, his eyes filled with a struggle, and pain.

But he didn't take that step.

The emergency room door closed. I thought I heard him call my name, but it might have been a hallucination. It didn't matter anymore.

When I woke up. Zero missed calls, zero messages on my phone.

Ashton pushed the door open. He held a few photocopied sheets. "Molly Grey, your husband is seriously ill." He pulled a chair to my bedside and sat down. I leaned against the headboard, silent.

He placed the photocopies on the table. "I had a contact look at Elara's scans."

"Cracked ribs and old fractures. These are all signs of being beaten."

"Last night, by the emergency room door, her instinctive reaction to flinch and pull back her neck. Only someone who has been repeatedly hit develops that kind of muscle memory."

My mind reeled. "He doesn't love Elara?"

"Love? No way. He just uses her as an outlet. This is paranoid control, a twisted psychology with object transference."

"He feared his inherent brutality would destroy you, so he found a substitute. He vents his twisted desires on someone else, then cleans himself up to come back to you."

I stared at the scans, a chill creeping up my spine. "But he not only gave her money, he bought her so much jewelry."

"Even a dog needs to be fed, Molly. For five years, you were pampered and never wronged, all because someone else took the hits for you."

"Are you really going to keep accepting this kind of love, stained with someone else's blood?"

I looked at the words on the report, a wave of nausea washing over me.

Three days later, Aidan arrived. He was taking me to a business dinner. Impeccably suited, he put his arm around my waist. Less than half an hour later, Elara appeared, as the companion of a business partner. When she smiled, she tilted her head slightly, lightly touching her earlobe with her right hand. My habitual gesture, perfectly mimicked.

The wives around us started whispering. "Did you see that?" "That young lady isn't an exact replica of Mrs. Brown, but she's at least seventy percent similar." "Mr. Brown must adore his wife, even his mistress is cut from the same cloth."

My hand, holding the wine glass, trembled slightly. That feeling of being stripped bare in public was a thousand times more disgusting than being betrayed.

A tipsy businessman stumbled over, his hand reaching for Elara's waist. Aidan's face changed in a split second. He kicked over a chair, grabbed a bottle of red wine, and smashed it on the table. Glass shards flew everywhere.

A piece of shrapnel flew up and grazed my cheek, blood trickling down my chin. Aidan didn't look at me. His eyes were entirely on Elara, who was cowering behind him, trembling. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" His voice was filled with frantic concern.

I stood in the center of the mess, blood on my face, being gawked at by everyone. Elara, buried in his chest, looked over his shoulder at me. She smiled, a fleeting, almost imperceptible curve of the lips.

Molly Grey, university lecturer, the biggest joke at this dinner party.

I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and slowly wiped the blood from my face. Then I picked up a glass of ice water from the table and walked towards them.

Aidan finally snapped back to reality. His gaze fell on my face, his pupils constricting. "Molly, your face" He panicked, reaching out to touch me.

I swung my arm, splashing the entire glass of ice water in his face. Droplets ran down his brow and nose. The whole room fell silent.

I heard my own voice, chillingly calm. "Aidan, you utterly disgust me."

"Tomorrow morning at ten, meet me at the courthouse for the divorce. Don't be late."