My Wife From the Future

01

Celeste and I happened to wear the exact same dress today.

My childhood friend, Wesley, teased me. Same dress, but she looks like an angel, and you look like her maid.

Even my mother agreed. When it comes to looks and grace, Beth doesn't even compare to Celeste.

Celeste was the orphaned daughter of my mother's late best friend. My mother had brought her home to adopt her. She was smart, beautiful, and danced ballet. Everyone preferred her. Even the stray cat I had rescued only cuddled with her, while hissing at me.

Until Asher, the transfer student, became my desk partner.

He secretly stuffed dead roaches into Wesley's locker and poured rancid clam juice into Celeste's thermos.

I wanted to laugh so badly, but I didn't dare.

In a quiet voice, I asked Asher why he was standing up for me.

Mimicking my hushed whisper, he leaned in and murmured, "Because I traveled back in time from ten years in the future."

"Give me a smile," he cooed. "My future wife."

I froze. My face flushed crimson instantly.

Before I could say a word, a loud commotion broke out near Celeste's desk.

She had taken a sip of her drink, and now she was coughing violently, her brow furrowed in distress. Her almond eyes pooled with tears, making her look incredibly fragile and pitiable.

The classmates crowding around her were furious.

"Who the hell did this?"

"This is sick. Who would try to poison Celeste?"

"How incredibly malicious."

Wesley gently patted her back, his eyes suddenly darting to me.

"I bet Beth did it. She's always been jealous of Celeste."

Celeste raised her pale face, forcing a weak, fragile smile. "Don't say that about Beth. I'm just living under her roof. I must have done something to upset her... It's all my fault."

With just a few soft words, she shifted the blame entirely onto my shoulders. It was the same effortless way she used to accuse me of stealing class funds or rumor that I cheated on exams.

I bit my lip, whispering, "I didn't do it."

But, as always, nobody listened. Nobody believed me.

My nose stung with unshed tears. I lowered my head, trying to blink them away, when a strange, bright red plastic object entered my peripheral vision.

A megaphone?

I looked up in utter bewilderment. Asher had pulled out a massive megaphone from somewhere. He grinned, pressed the play button, aimed it directly at Celeste's crowd, and let it blare at maximum volume:

"BETH SAID SHE DIDN'T DO IT!"

"DID YOU HEAR THAT? SHE DIDN'T DO IT!"

"IM HER WITNESS! SHE NEVER EVEN WENT NEAR YOUR DESK! SPREAD MORE LIES ABOUT HER AND I'LL HAVE YOU DEALT WITH!"

Naturally, the teacher confiscated Asher's megaphone within minutes.

But with an eyewitness on my side, my name was cleared.

I whispered a quiet thank you to him.

Asher raised an eyebrow, a cheeky grin playing on his lips. "Don't just thank me with words. How about a kiss?"

"If that's too hard, I'll compromise. I can kiss you instead."

I laughed, giving his shoulder a gentle, playful shove. "You're ridiculous!"

But the next second, a sudden realization hit me. It had been a very, very long time since I had laughed and played around with anyone like this.

02

During the summer break of my eighth-grade year, my mother's dearest friend passed away, leaving behind a single daughter. My mother brought her home to adopt her.

That was Celeste.

She stood at our front door, her eyes red, looking entirely lost and fragile. My mother's heart broke for her, and she pulled me aside, telling me I had to share and yield to Celeste from now on. I nodded, genuinely feeling sorry for her.

So, I emptied half the savings from my piggy bank and pushed the coins toward her. She whispered a quiet thank you.

I shared my bed with her, she took the left side, I took the right.

My favorite toy, a glowing, light-up princess wand, caught her eye. I placed it directly into her hands. "Do you like it? It's yours."

But when did things start to change?

Suddenly, I had nothing left to give.

When I got a perfect score on my math test, my mother rewarded me with a family bucket of fried chicken. I used to love stuffing the chicken into the warm butter rolls, topping it with mashed potatoes. It was delicious.

But now, Celeste had three pieces of chicken. My mother and I only had one each. The mashed potatoes were given entirely to Celeste.

I slowly sipped my soda, my eyes drifting toward the bountiful plate in front of Celeste.

My mother scowled. "Beth, you already have your chicken and soda. What are you staring at Celeste for? Always coveting what belongs to others. How did you become so greedy?"

My mother also enrolled Celeste in ballet classes. The art classes she had promised to sign me up for were abruptly canceled.

"We don't have much spare cash left," my mother said dismissively. "Be sensible. Besides, you don't have Celeste's natural talent for dance. Art lessons would just be a waste of money."

My father worked overseas and rarely came home. Whenever I missed him, I would hold the glass mermaid figurine he had bought me and whisper my secrets to it.

Celeste saw it. She thought it was beautiful.

My mother forced me to give the mermaid to her.

Wesley, my childhood friend, had been furious on my behalf. "Is your mom insane? Treating an outsider like royalty while starving her own daughter? You earned that fried chicken with your perfect score, and Celeste just eats it without a second thought? Where is her shame? And you want to be an illustrator, why can't you take classes?"

He was fiercely protective of me back then, never holding back his tongue.

He consoled me, promising, "I'll come over tomorrow and bring you a massive fried chicken leg. You're going to eat the whole thing right in front of Celeste. Not a single bite for her!"

But when he arrived the next day, Celeste was sitting by the window, wearing a delicate floral dress my mother had bought her. She was reading a book, the warm afternoon sunlight bathing her clean, beautiful face.

Wesley froze, completely mesmerized.

The massive chicken leg slipped from his grip, rolling onto the dusty floor.

"I think I finally understand what love at first sight means," he whispered.

03

He stood there awkwardly for ages, not knowing where to put his hands.

When he finally snapped out of it, he turned to me with a breezy, teasing grin. "Beth, your sister is as beautiful as an angel, while you're just... average. No wonder your mom prefers her. It's only natural."

Anger and tears flooded my eyes. I turned and ran into my bedroom, slamming the door. "I'm never speaking to you again!"

In the past, whenever Wesley made me angry, I would lock myself in my room, and he would stand outside, coaxing and teasing until I opened the door. I was weak-willed; within two minutes, he'd have me laughing, and I would walk back out.

But this time, he didn't follow me. He stayed in the living room, spending the entire afternoon trying every trick in the book to make Celeste laugh.

I sat alone in my room, crying, listening to the echoes of his eager laughter. He stayed all the way until dinner, completely unwilling to leave.

Eventually, I made up with Wesley. After all, we had grown up together. He was my best friend.

But everything was different now.

He stopped going to the comic bookstore with me. Instead, he spent his afternoons waiting outside Celeste's ballet studio.

When he went on a trip to Savannah with his family, he brought Celeste a delicate silk fan, a vintage dress, and beautiful garden keepsakes.

When it came to me, he just scratched his head, showing his boyish grin. "I ran out of allowance, so I couldn't get you anything. Don't be mad, Beth. Next time, I promise."

When we started high school, a once-in-a-century rainstorm hit on our monthly release day. The streets were flooded, water rising halfway up the trees and cars. The air was filled with the frantic shouts of parents calling for their children.

My mother pushed through the crowds to find Celeste and guide her safely home.

Wesley was frantic with worry too. He braved the thunder and pouring rain to run to our house, only relaxing when he saw Celeste was safe and dry.

He eagerly grabbed a hairdryer to dry Celeste's damp hair, while my mother bustled in the kitchen, brewing hot ginger tea to keep Celeste warm.

Nobody remembered me, left behind at the school with no one to pick me up.

By the time I waded through the waist-deep water to get home, I was soaked to the bone and shivering. I collapsed onto the kitchen table, sobbing from the sheer injustice of it.

Wesley poked his head into the kitchen, letting out a chuckle. "Are you actually crying?"

He laughed. "Beth, you look even uglier when you cry."

04

After that day, I slowly learned to accept the differences in how Celeste and I were treated.

I got used to walking behind them, silently watching Celeste and Wesley laugh and chat ahead of me. If I ever paused to tie my shoelaces, they would leave me far behind without ever looking back.

I got used to my mother buying Celeste Converse sneakers, Adidas hoodies, and expensive backpacks because she was terrified Celeste would feel insecure about being an orphan. Meanwhile, I was given Celestes worn-out hand-me-downs.

I got used to Wesley walking Celeste everywhere because he was terrified she would be harassed by strangers. He never worried about me. He said I looked "perfectly safe."

I got used to everyone preferring her. Even the stray cat I brought home would hiss at me but roll over to show Celeste his belly.

Until today.

Until Asher poured rancid clam juice into her thermos to get back at her for me.

Watching Celeste weep, I wanted to laugh, but I didn't dare.

Wesley had once said, "Beth, you and your sister actually look similar when you laugh. Except she looks beautiful, and you look hilarious."

But Asher rested his chin in his hand, looking at me with a lazy, warm gaze. "Give me a smile."

"My future wife."

"I traveled back from ten years in the future just to make you happy."

Time travel? I thought he was just teasing me.

But over the next month, he became my shield.

During recess, Wesley ran over to tell me a joke he had heard. "Beth, you look like you're from a historic lineage. Because your face looks incredibly historical, as in, ancient and worn out."

I lowered my head, biting my lip.

Asher spun his pen, letting out a dry chuckle. "And you look like you belong in a circus. Specifically, as the clown. No talent, just a joke."

At dismissal, Celeste casually handed me a half-drunk boba tea, smiling sweetly. "Beth, why don't you finish this? We shouldn't waste our mother's money."

Asher let out a loud groan. "Are you seriously offering your backwash to someone else?"

He magically pulled out three half-empty bottles of soda from his desk and shoved them toward Celeste. "Here, Ive got a bunch of leftovers too. Why don't you chug them all? Don't let them go to waste."

Celeste stomped her foot and stormed off in a rage.

I couldn't help it. A quiet laugh slipped from my lips.

Asher watched me laugh, his own lips curving into a soft smile.

Under some strange spell, I looked at him and asked, "Are you really from ten years in the future?"

Asher raised an eyebrow, his eyes shining. "Getting curious about me now?"

"Careful, sweetheart. You're about to fall in love with me."

I flushed, giving his arm a playful hit.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur. "Really want to know?"

"Sunday is your birthday. Come out on a date with me, and I'll tell you."

05

I bit my lip and remained silent.

I hated birthdays.

On my fifteenth birthday, Celeste and I had a joint celebration.

My mother spent hours taking photos of Celeste, adjusting the lighting and angles to make her look perfect.

When it was my turn to stand in front of the cake, before I could even pose, click. The photo was done.

In the picture, my face was distorted, my eyes half-closed, and my mouth awkwardly open. I looked so ugly I wanted to cry.

My mother had merely shrugged. "It's because of how you look. No amount of photography can change that."

When Celeste blew out her candles, she began opening her gifts. In a velvet box lay a sparkling diamond hairpin. When she wore it, she looked like a princess.

My gift was a cheap plastic bracelet. The pink beads were already peeling.

A wave of bitter sorrow rushed over me. "Mom, you're unfair!" I cried, pointing at the cake, which only had Happy Birthday Celeste written on it.

"And today is her birthday, not mine! Her birthday is a day before mine! Ever since she came, I've had to share my birthday with her. Why do I have to do this?"

My mother's face darkened instantly.

Celeste's eyes welled with tears, her voice soft and trembling. "Mom, it's all my fault. I took Beth's special day. I won't celebrate my birthday anymore, please don't fight because of me..."

My mother's heart broke, and she wrapped Celeste in a tight embrace. "Celeste is already so sensible and sweet despite having no parents. Why do you always have to fight her for everything?"

"If you hate celebrating your birthday so much, then get out!"

I ran out of the house, crying. But I had nowhere to go, so I wandered around the neighborhood for hours. When night fell and nobody came to look for me, I walked back, sobbing, but too ashamed to go upstairs.

Suddenly, someone called my name from behind. "Beth."

I turned. Wesley was standing by the entrance of the building, holding a plastic bag. "Happy birthday."

I opened it. It was a simple white dress. The fabric was scratchy, and the stitching around the collar was crooked. But I still cried tears of joy. "Thank you."

Wesley rubbed the back of his neck, then pulled out another gift box from behind his back. It was wrapped in beautiful pink paper with a perfect satin bow. Blushing, he said: "Uh... can you give this to your sister?"

My smile froze. The scratchy dress in my hands suddenly felt weightless.