Three Years Of Deep Love, I Was Only A Stepping Stone

I was supposed to be the happiest bride in the world. Instead, my groom died on our wedding day. For an entire month, I drowned in my own tears.

In a haze of grief, I accidentally dialed his old iCloud account on FaceTime. He rarely used it when he was alive, but leaving voicemails there had become my pathetic way of coping with the silence. It rang twice. Then, the video actually connected.

The face that appeared on the screen did not belong to my dead fianc, Blake. It was a little boy, maybe seven or eight years old. "Hi there! Are you looking for my dad?" The boy had bright, expressive eyes. He proudly held up an elegant, handwritten card to the camera.

"Look what my dad wrote! 'Happy 2033, baby. Happy seventh anniversary.' My dad just ran out to get my mom's gift!" I froze. 2033? My brain stalled, then violently rebooted. The person on the other end of this call was seven years in the future.

I forced down the bitter shock clawing at my throat. I tried to rationalize it. Maybe the carrier recycled the number. Maybe it was just a bizarre glitch. I managed a stiff, painful smile. "I hope your mom and dad are very happy."

But the next second, the boy excitedly spun around, waving the phone. The camera panned across the wall behind him. Hanging right in the center was a massive, framed wedding portrait.

The moment it came into focus, the blood in my veins turned to ice. The woman in the white dress was Audrey. My ride-or-die best friend. And the man standing next to her had Blake's face.

I stared unblinking at the screen, my chest heaving.

It wasn't a lookalike. Even the tiny mole under his left eye was perfectly captured in the high-resolution print.

Blake was not dead.

Seven years from now, he wasn't just alive. He was married to Audrey.

Why would they lie to me?

A deafening ringing filled my ears. My hands started to shake uncontrollably.

I pulled up Audrey's text thread on my other phone.

Our last conversation was from a month ago. I had texted her, bursting with excitement, to tell her I was getting married. She replied with a long voice memo.

Her tone had been thick with melancholic regret. "Stella, I am so happy for you. I just landed in Europe. I'm helping my first love sort out some messy business. I'm so sorry, but I won't be able to make it to your wedding."

I had felt so bad for her at the time.

I knew Audrey had a first love she could never get over. She used to get blackout drunk and cry over him.

I even comforted her. "If you love him that much, go win him back."

She had laughed bitterly. "I dumped him because I was petty. I made too many mistakes. He's literally about to get married. He would never forgive me."

Looking back on it now, the way she looked at me that day wasn't regret. It was victory.

"He came to say goodbye," she had told me later. "He said he was tying the knot. I couldn't hold back. I hugged him and told him I was done running. I told him, 'You took ninety-nine steps toward me. I'll take the last one.'"

So her first love, the man who was about to get married... was Blake.

My hands were freezing. I turned around and tore into the cardboard box of Blake's belongings I had just packed away.

At the bottom, buried inside a vintage leather cigar box, I found an old Polaroid.

I had never seen it before.

It was Blake and Audrey in high school.

Audrey had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and they were smiling brilliantly at the camera.

They had been together all along.

When Blake and I first started dating, Audrey constantly talked trash about him.

She said he had a terrible temper. She said he was selfish and incapable of empathy.

I thought she was just being protective of me.

Now the ugly truth stared me in the face. They were toxic exes. They resented each other, couldn't let each other go, and used me as a pawn in their twisted game of jealousy.

What was I to them? Just collateral damage? A tool to trigger their reunion?

Another memory hit me like a physical blow.

Six months ago, Blake came back from a "business trip" in Europe. I noticed deep, red scratch marks on his neck.

When I asked about them, his eyes darted away, but a smug, lingering smirk played on his lips.

"A stray cat in London," he had said. "Claws were incredibly sharp."

I believed him.

Now I knew exactly who left those marks.

"Miss? Are you okay? Are you crying?"

The boy's voice drifted from the phone, pulling me out of the nightmare.

I looked up at his face.

This was Blake and Audrey's son.

He had Blake's eyes and Audrey's mouth.

I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat and forced my voice to work.

"Hey, buddy. Could you tell me a little bit about your parents? I think I might know them."

The boy tilted his head. "You know my mom and dad?"

I nodded. "Are your parents Blake and Audrey? We went to college together."

The boy's eyes lit up with pure joy. "Oh wow! Then do you know Stella?"

I froze.

Stella.

That was my name.

I dug my fingernails into my palms, forcing my voice to remain completely steady.

"Why do you ask about her? Is she someone special?"

The boy looked down, fiddling with a plastic toy, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"She was a really good friend of my mom and dad. But she died seven years ago."

"Died?" I repeated, the word tasting like ash.

"Yeah. They tell me stories about her all the time. Every year, they go to the cemetery and cry in front of her grave. They say they are so, so sorry and that they regret everything."

I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath.

Seven years ago. That meant 2026. That meant this year.

Blake fakes his death, betrays me with Audrey, and then I die?

My entire body trembled with rage and terror. I clenched my jaw.

"How did she die?"

The boy shook his head. "Dad won't let me ask. Miss, did you know her?"

I dodged the question. "Do your parents love each other a lot?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically, his bubbly energy returning instantly.

"My dad is obsessed with my mom!"

He started listing off their perfect moments like he was reciting a fairy tale.

"When Mom was pregnant with me, she craved those artisan donuts from the bakery all the way across town at midnight. Dad didn't even blink. He drove an hour just to get them, and he brought them back in a heated box so they were still warm."

"Mom hates the rain. So Dad hired an architect to build this massive custom glass conservatory in our backyard. Now, when it storms, Mom can sit inside surrounded by flowers and not a single drop touches her."

"Oh, and one time Mom accidentally broke this cheap plastic hair claw she had since she was a teenager. She cried for hours. Dad tracked down the original manufacturer and paid a ton of money to have it perfectly restored. He keeps it locked in his safe now!"

Every word the kid spoke drove the knife deeper into my ribs.

I thought about how Blake treated me.

Once, I was burning up with a 103-degree fever in the middle of the night. I called him, begging him to come over.

He told me he was too busy with a pitch deck and told me to just drink some water and go back to sleep.

I found out later that Audrey had gotten blackout drunk at a club that night, and Blake had spent hours driving around the city to pick her up.

I always dreamed of buying a house with a backyard. He shot it down immediately, calling it a total waste of money and completely impractical.

Yet he turned around and built a luxury glass conservatory for Audrey.

And that hair claw. I recognized it. Audrey bought it at a dollar store in high school.

But the leather wallet I spent three sleepless nights hand-stitching for Blake's birthday?

He tossed it in the back of his desk drawer, and a month later, threw it in the trash because it was "taking up space."

"I don't really use stuff like this," he had told me. "It looks cheap."

The camera shifted again, giving me another glimpse of that massive wedding portrait.

Seeing their faces side-by-side, another memory surfaced. Sophomore year of college.

I was practically glowing when I introduced my handsome new boyfriend to my best friend.

We were sitting at a four-top table in the dining hall. I was holding Blake's hand. Audrey sat across from us.

I was so blinded by love that I entirely missed the toxic undercurrent flowing between them.

Audrey had "accidentally" knocked her water glass over, spilling it all over Blake's pristine white button-down.

Blake was a notorious germaphobe. Usually, if someone even brushed against him, he would go home to change.

But that day, he just stared at Audrey. He didn't lose his temper.

He even picked up a napkin and gently wiped the water off the table in front of her.

I was so naive. I actually thought he was just trying extra hard to be polite to my best friend.

Looking back, the signs were blindingly obvious.

The boy shoved the phone closer to his face.

"Look, Miss! My parents even have a shared TikTok account! It has all their videos!"

The screen got close enough for me to read the handle.

@QueenAudrey

I grabbed my other phone. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely type the letters into the search bar.

The profile popped up immediately.

I tapped into the account.

The very first video was uploaded way back in high school.

The quality was grainy. It was Blake and Audrey in their school uniforms, running across the football field, holding hands in the back row of a classroom.

I scrolled down. Suddenly, the uploads stopped.

There was a massive three-year gap.

The exact three years Blake and I were together.

Then, exactly two months after Blake's "death", the uploads resumed.

The comeback video featured Blake on the deck of a luxury yacht, down on one knee, slipping a massive diamond ring onto Audrey's finger.

The caption read: After all the detours, I'm so glad it was always you.

I scrolled mechanically. Video after video.

The comments section was a mix of congratulations and pure vitriol from people who knew the truth.

One comment stood out. Wait, wasn't Blake engaged to Stella? Why is he with her best friend? Absolute garbage humans.

Right below it, pinned to the top, was a reply from Blake's personal account.

Audrey is the only woman I have ever loved. Everyone else was just a mistake while I figured things out. In a love triangle, the one who isn't loved is the real homewrecker.

The one who isn't loved is the real homewrecker.

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted copper.

For three years, I wasn't his fianc. I was his trial run. A placeholder while he figured out his own toxic feelings.

I kept scrolling.

They went snowboarding in the Alps. Scuba diving in the Maldives. Skydiving over Dubai.

In every video, Audrey laughed like she owned the world, and Blake looked at her with a sickening level of devotion.

And me?

During those three years, I worked three different part-time jobs to help fund Blake's tech startup.

To save up enough money to buy him a tailored suit for his first investor meeting, I ate instant ramen for a month straight.

Then I noticed a link pinned in the bio.

It was titled Confessions.

It linked out to an anonymous blog post formatted like a short story.

But my gut told me it was about me.

I clicked it.

It detailed the tragic end of a character named "S".

It described the events that were supposed to happen in my timeline, just a few months from now.

In the story, S discovers the fake death. She tracks them down and demands answers.

In their twisted perspective, S was the crazy stalker who lost her mind.

So they retaliated. They completely destroyed her career.

When S's mother went to Blake's corporate office to beg for mercy, she was run over by a sports car driven by one of Blake's rich frat brothers. Her legs were permanently crushed.

The diary read: Her mother didn't survive the surgery. S went completely insane.

The final entry described a stormy night.

S stepped off the edge of a 28th-floor balcony.

The concluding sentence read: She died, and we were finally free. But sometimes, looking back, we wonder if she really deserved to die.

I stared at the glowing screen as hot tears spilled over my eyelashes and dripped onto my knuckles.

"Miss? Why are you crying again? Are you okay?"

The boy's worried voice brought me back.

I wiped my face aggressively with the back of my hand and forced a wide smile.

"I'm totally fine. Just got some dust in my eye."

I took a deep breath. "Hey, when are your mom and dad getting back?"

"Dad is just picking up a custom necklace for Mom. He'll be back any minute. Mom is pregnant with my baby sister, so the doctor said she has to stay on bed rest in her room."

Pregnant again.

A perfect family of four. Living a fairy-tale life built directly on top of my mother's crushed bones and my shattered skull.

I gripped the edge of the table to stop my body from trembling.

"Hey, buddy. When your dad gets back, could you use this phone to call me back on FaceTime? I really want to give him a surprise."

The boy beamed. "Okay! I promise!"

I smiled at him and ended the call.

The second the screen went black, my bedroom door opened.

My mom walked in, carrying a thermos of hot soup. Her eyes were still red from crying over my dead fianc.

Looking at my mother, standing there alive, healthy, and walking on two functioning legs...

I lunged forward, wrapped my arms around her waist, and sobbed hysterically.

My mom thought the grief of losing Blake was finally breaking me.

She rubbed my back, whispering soothing words. "It's okay, Stella. Let it out. He's gone, but you have to keep living. You have to look forward."

I buried my face in her shoulder, my tears soaking her sweater.

"Mom. I don't love him anymore."

I made a vow right there in the dark.

This time, I would absolutely destroy anyone who tried to touch my family.

After my mom left the room, I wiped my face and picked up my phone.

I dialed Audrey's number.

It rang three times before she picked up.

Audrey's lazy, satisfied drawl came through the speaker.

"Hey, Stella. What's up?"

"Audrey, Blake is gone. I'm sitting in my apartment alone and I just feel so lost."

Audrey let out a soft, breathy chuckle.

"Oh, Stella... I probably won't be back in the States for a while. Actually, I forgot to tell you. I just eloped with my first love. We signed the papers today."

She immediately launched into a sickening monologue, bragging about her perfect life.

"He treats me like absolute royalty. Whatever I want, I get."

After she finished gloating, she threw me some fake sympathy.

"Stella, you really shouldn't be too heartbroken. Honestly? Blake wasn't even that great of a guy. He was cold, calculated, and totally selfish. Maybe it's a blessing he died early, so he couldn't drag you down for the rest of your life."

Listening to her viciously insult the man she was currently sleeping with, I felt a wave of pure nausea.

"Is that right?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dead, icy calm.

"Who exactly is this first love of yours? Where are you guys right now?"

Audrey's voice stiffened. She clearly hadn't expected me to press for details.

"Just... a guy. You don't know him."

Right then, I heard the rustling of bedsheets through the receiver.

"What are you doing?" I tightened my grip on the phone.

"Nothing... just resting," Audrey's voice suddenly turned breathy and soft.

Then, a horribly familiar male voice bled through the background audio.

"Audrey, you're distracted. Someone needs to be punished."

It was Blake.

My blood ran cold. My stomach churned with disgust.

"Stella, I'll come visit you when I'm back. I gotta go!"

Before the call abruptly disconnected, I clearly heard the crash of ocean waves and the cry of seagulls.

I knew exactly where they were.

The famous cliffside oceanfront properties just outside the city limits.

Blake had once brought me architectural blueprints for a villa out there. He promised me, looking me dead in the eyes, that it would be our dream home.

Except he built it for her. And on the exact day we were supposed to get married, the day he supposedly died in a car crash on his way to the venue... he was out there marrying her.

I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white.

Perfect.

I grabbed my car keys, walked out the door, and got into my car.

By the time I reached the cliffside villa, the sun had fully set.

The sprawling manicured lawn was blindingly bright, lined with hundreds of fairy lights and imported white roses.

An incredibly lavish, intimate outdoor wedding was in full swing.

I stood completely still in the shadows, watching the stage.

Blake was wearing a perfectly tailored white tuxedo, gazing deeply into Audrey's eyes, delivering a tear-jerking speech.

"Audrey, I finally made you my wife."

His voice actually cracked with emotion. "I have waited a lifetime for this exact moment."

A massive LED screen behind them played a slideshow of their relationship.

I recognized every single photo.

But in every group shot, my face and body had been violently cropped out.

To them, I was never a fianc or a best friend. I was an annoying background extra they finally managed to edit out of their movie.

In this three-person tragedy, I was the punchline.

The crowd erupted into applause.

Right as the officiant grabbed the microphone to announce the ring exchange, I stepped out of the shadows and walked straight down the center of the white floral aisle.

"Blake!"

Every single head snapped toward me.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Blake's eyes went wide with pure, unadulterated panic.

I walked right up to the altar and let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

I reached into my designer purse and pulled out the crisp, official document. I slammed it against his chest.

"I'm just here to attend my legal husband's wedding."

The marriage license fluttered to the ground, the official state seal catching the stage lights. Our names and faces were printed clearly in black and white.

The wealthy guests gasped. A tidal wave of frantic whispering swept through the crowd.

Audrey's face turned beet red. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes.

She rushed forward, playing the victim perfectly. "No! Stella, please let me explain! I was the one Blake loved first! I'm not the homewrecker! You were the one who forced your way between us!"

I raised my right hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had.

She screamed, stumbling backward in her massive designer gown and collapsing onto the grass.

"That slap is for years of your disgusting, manipulative gaslighting!"

Blake snapped out of his shock.

He lunged forward, shielding Audrey behind his body, and raised his hand.

A heavy, stinging slap landed square on my cheek.

"Are you insane, Stella?!"

He pointed a shaking finger at my face, his eyes totally unhinged. "Security! Drag this crazy bitch off my property!"

Three massive men in black suits rushed the stage to grab me.

But before they could touch me, a team of uniformed police officers stormed up the aisle.

"Which one of you is Blake?"

The lead officer stepped onto the stage, flashing his badge.

"We received a verified tip with hard evidence. You are under arrest for forging a death certificate, committing massive life insurance fraud, and bigamy. Turn around and put your hands behind your back."

At that exact second, my phone started vibrating violently in my pocket.

The distinctive FaceTime ringtone pierced through the chaotic silence of the wedding.

I reached into my pocket and pulled it out.

On the screen, the seven-year-old boy's face was flashing. The future was calling.