From Rival to Sister-in-law

Josie Watson asked for a divorce for the ninety-ninth time, but Laurence Andrews took a call from his first love and told her to get out of the car.

"Go home and think it over. I hope this is the last time you make a fuss," he said.

For Rosalie Harris, he abandoned Josie repeatedly, humiliating her.

Laurence believed Josie couldn't survive without him.

He didn't know Rosalie's brother was secretly encouraging Josie to divorce and leave the country.

...

"We should get a divorce," Josie said. She stared out at the storm, asking Laurence for a divorce for the ninety-ninth time.

Rain battered the windows, as relentless as the despair in her heart.

She learned a month ago that Laurence saw her as a stand-in for Rosalie.

Three years of marriage, all the sweetness, turned to nothing.

Her phone lit up with a message. "Josie, has he agreed to the divorce? Is a plane ticket for a week from now okay?"

The one urging her to leave was Chris Harris, Rosalie's older brother.

She knew Chris had feelings for her. If she wanted to escape Laurence, he was the one who would help.

Laurence didn't look at her. He just gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Stop it. I don't have time for this," he said.

She turned to him. The car was dim, her face pale, her eyes hollow as she watched him.

This time, she didn't cry or argue. She was eerily calm.

Laurence grew irritated under her gaze. He pressed the gas, and the car sped through the rain. "I told you Rosalie is just an old friend. Stop being paranoid."

He added impatiently, "I'll cover your dad's next surgery and buy you five new bags."

His tone was like he was dismissing a clueless subordinate.

She thought she was numb by now.

But Laurence's words still cut her deeply.

A cheerful violin ringtone broke the silence.

It was Rosalie's special ringtone.

His cold face softened instantly.

Laurence slowed the car and pulled over smoothly. "Rosalie, don't worry. I'm coming right now," he said.

In three years of marriage, Josie never even had her own ringtone.

He hung up, and the warmth vanished. "Rosalie needs me. Go home."

Laurence kicked her out of the car like it was nothing.

He opened the door, letting the storm pour in.

"Go home and think it over. I hope this is the last time you make a fuss," he said.

He didn't even leave her an umbrella.

The Maybach sped off, splashing water onto her skirt.

She pulled a folding umbrella from her bag and opened it, watching the car disappear into traffic.

She let the cold rain hit her face, hoping it would wake her up.

Memories flooded back.

Years ago, when she faced dropping out, Laurence's grandmother anonymously funded her education.

To repay her, when she was ill and wanted to see Laurence married, Josie agreed to the marriage.

Laurence and Josie had an arrangement. She played the perfect wife to ease his grandmother's mind, and he supported her and her sick father.

She became Laurence's all-purpose secretary. Their marriage started without love.

But Laurence gave her a dangerously perfect beginning.

He'd go to an old diner in a back alley, waiting in line forever, just to get her a late-night soup.

He remembered her period, always ready with hot cocoa and a heating pad.

Laurence even tore up his outdoor garden to build a greenhouse for her, filled with flowers he planted himself.

He patiently watched artsy movies with her, clumsily handing her tissues when she cried.

Those small acts of care wove a tight net, trapping her.

She fell hard, loving this man who was cold to everyone but special to her.

Then, a month ago, Rosalie returned.

Chris sent her a message saying she was Rosalie's stand-in.

She found a locked photo album in Laurence's study.

The password was Rosalie's birthday.

Inside were photos of Rosalie, from her awkward school days to her elegant adulthood, each carefully preserved.

The album's edges were worn, flipped through countless times.

In one photo, a teenage Rosalie wore a white dress, holding a violin, her smile bright and bold.

Laurence once bought Josie the same dress, saying it suited her.

Notes under the photos listed Rosalie's preferences.

"Rosalie loves soup from the south side diner.

Rosalie gets cramps and needs hot cocoa.

Rosalie loves flowers, especially peonies.

Rosalie loves artsy movies."

...

Every detail matched how Laurence treated Josie.

In that moment, she knew.

A prince wouldn't fall for a nobody.

In reality, princes would end up with princesses.

Rosalie had been abroad for treatment, and Laurence's grandmother couldn't wait.

Josie showed up at the right time, with eyes and a vibe vaguely like Rosalie's.

Laurence shaped her into a perfect copy of Rosalie, based on her likes.

Now the real Rosalie was back.

Josie, the flawed imitation, had to go.

Her phone lit up. Chris. "He refused again?"

She replied. "Yeah, but I have a plan. Book the ticket for a week from now."

Chris responded instantly. "I'll come to Bayside to get you in a week. That okay?"

"Fine, if it's not too much trouble," she said.

She deleted the chat and walked into the rain.

Chris had been abroad for two years. He'd have to fly ten hours to pick her up, then ten more to take her back.

After betrayal, she didn't trust men's kindness.

She was just using Chris's feelings for her.

Karma worked in circles. The man she wanted to escape loved Rosalie, but the one helping her escape was Rosalie's brother.