The Unseen Wife, The Unloved Fiancée

I thought my boyfriend of three years, Jaxon Tate, was my soulmate. Our life was perfect. Tonight, while borrowing his phone to order dinner, I accidentally opened his notes app.

That's when I found "Denzel's List." Denzel was his older brother, who died two years ago. The list contained 400 tasks.

"Take Elfrieda Stewart to the movies for my brother."

"Propose to Elfrieda Stewart for my brother."

"Love Elfrieda for the rest of her life for my brother."

Before I could even breathe, he took a call on the balcony from a woman named Janice. His secret wife.

"Of course, I love you," I heard him tell her. "Marrying Elfrieda is just... a business transaction. It's to honor Denzel's dying wish."

My world shattered. Our entire three-year relationship was a lie. Every "I love you," every touch was just an item on a checklist. I wasn't his soulmate; I was a task to be completed for a dead man. I was the other woman, and I didn't even know it.

He came back inside, smiling his perfect, fake smile. "Sorry about that, a crisis at the office." He then suggested a trip to see the northern lights, another item I was sure was on his list.

As he leaned in to kiss me, I picked up my own phone and sent a text to my brother.

"Can you come get me? I need to come home."

Chapter 1

The soft glow of the lamp filled the living room. I leaned my head against Jaxon Tate's shoulder, the scent of his cologne a familiar comfort. We had been together for three years, and tonight, like many nights, felt perfect.

"What should we order for dinner?" I asked, reaching for his phone on the coffee table. "I'm thinking Thai."

"Whatever you want, El," he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on my arm.

I unlocked his phone, his screen background a smiling photo of us in Paris. My heart felt full. I tapped on the food delivery app, but my thumb slipped, closing the app and revealing his home screen. A notes app icon had a red notification badge on it.

Curiosity got the better of me. It was probably just a grocery list. I opened it.

The title of the note was "Denzel's List." Denzel was his older brother, who had passed away two years ago. My eyes scanned the contents, and a strange feeling washed over me.

1. Take Elfrieda Stewart to the movies for my brother.

2. Cook Elfrieda Stewart her favorite pasta for my brother.

3. Buy Elfrieda Stewart the violin she wanted for my brother.

...

157. Propose to Elfrieda Stewart for my brother.

...

319. Marry Elfrieda Stewart for my brother.

400. Love Elfrieda Stewart for the rest of her life for my brother.

There were 400 tasks. Every single one was about me. And every single one ended with the same four words: "for my brother."

The air in the room suddenly felt thin. My hands started to tremble. This wasn't a to-do list. It was a script. A set of instructions.

"What's wrong?" Jaxon asked, his voice pulling me from my daze. "You look pale."

I quickly locked the phone and placed it back on the table, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Nothing. Just... thinking about a sad part in a movie I watched."

The lie tasted bitter in my mouth. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't process the meaning behind that list. Was our entire relationship just an obligation? A promise to a dead man?

He didn't press further. He just pulled me closer, his embrace feeling like a cage. "Don't worry about it. Let's just order the food."

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and his expression shifted. It was a subtle change, a flicker of something I couldn't name, but it made my stomach clench.

"I have to take this," he said, getting up and walking toward the balcony. "It's work."

I watched him slide the glass door shut, but it didn't click. A small gap remained. I couldn't help myself. I crept closer to the door, my body moving on its own.

His voice was low, but I could hear every word clearly.

"Janice, I told you not to call me when I'm with her."

Janice. The name hit me like a physical blow. His college sweetheart. The one he always said was a closed chapter, that they had ended things amicably years ago and hadn't spoken since.

"I know, Jaxon, but I miss you," a woman's voice, tinny through the phone, replied. "When are you going to be done with this? When are you going to tell her?"

"Soon," Jaxon's voice was strained. "I'm almost done with the list. I'll propose soon, just like Denzel wanted. Once we're married, I can fulfill the last item on the list, and then I'm done. My duty will be fulfilled."

A pause. Then Janice's voice again, sharp and possessive. "You love me, right? Not her."

"Of course, I love you," Jaxon sighed, and his words shattered what was left of my world. "You're the only one I've ever loved. Marrying Elfrieda is just... a business transaction. It's to honor Denzel's dying wish. He wanted her to be happy, to be taken care of."

"And what about my happiness?" Janice whined.

"You are my happiness," Jaxon said, his voice softening. "You're my wife, Janice. Nothing will ever change that."

Wife.

The word echoed in the silent room. It bounced off the walls and back into my ears, a deafening ring.

My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the floor, a silent scream trapped in my throat. My vision blurred, the cozy living room twisting into a distorted nightmare. Three years. Three years of love, of shared dreams, of believing I had found my soulmate.

It was all a lie.

Every "I love you," every tender touch, every thoughtful gift-it was all from the list. It was all for his brother. He wasn't my loving boyfriend. He was an actor, playing a part for a dead audience. And Janice... they were already married. I was the other woman, and I didn't even know it.

Jaxon slid the balcony door open and stepped back inside, a bright, false smile on his face.

"Sorry about that. A crisis at the office."

I looked up at him from the floor, my face wet with tears I hadn't realized were falling. I must have looked a mess, but I forced my expression into a neutral mask.

"Are you okay?" he asked, rushing to my side and trying to help me up. "Did you fall?"

His touch felt like fire on my skin. I flinched away. "I'm fine. Just got a cramp in my leg."

I let him help me to the couch, my body a dead weight. My mind was racing, trying to piece everything together.

"I've already ordered the food," he said, sitting next to me and taking my hand. His hand was warm, but all I could feel was the icy chill of his betrayal. "And I was thinking, we should go to Norway next month. You've always wanted to see the northern lights."

Item 234: Take Elfrieda Stewart to see the northern lights for my brother. I didn't need to see the list again to know it was on there. The thought made me want to be sick.

"That sounds... nice," I managed to say, my voice hollow.

He smiled, satisfied with my answer. "Great. I'll handle all the arrangements."

His phone buzzed again. A text message this time. He angled the screen away from me, but not quickly enough. I saw the name 'My Wife' and a message preview: "Don't forget the medicine for my 'headache.' And I found the perfect wedding bands for our real ceremony."

He quickly typed a reply and stood up. "Hey, I just remembered, I need to run an errand for my mom. I'll be back in an hour, okay? The food should be here soon."

He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head so his lips landed on my cheek. He didn't seem to notice. He just grabbed his keys and walked out the door, leaving me alone in the ruins of my life.

I sat there, motionless, for a long time. Then, I picked up my own phone. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely type. I went to Janice's social media profile. It was private, but her profile picture was a recent one. She was standing on a beach, her arm linked with a man whose face was turned away from the camera.

But I knew that posture. I knew the line of that shoulder, the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck. It was Jaxon. And on Janice's left hand, a simple, elegant wedding band gleamed in the sun.

The photo was dated six months ago. Six months into their secret marriage. Six months while he was still telling me he loved me.

My mind flashed back to how we met. He was Denzel's best friend. After Denzel got sick, I would visit him in the hospital. Jaxon was always there. He was so kind, so attentive, not just to Denzel, but to me. He brought me coffee. He made sure I ate. He held me when I cried after Denzel passed.

I thought he saw me, really saw me. I thought he fell in love with the woman I was.

But it was all part of the plan. Item number one on that list was probably "Comfort Elfrieda Stewart after my brother's death for my brother."

The pain was so immense, it felt like my chest was caving in. I had given him my heart, my trust, my future. I had turned down a scholarship to a prestigious music conservatory in Europe to stay here with him. For him. For this lie.

I scrolled through my own photos. Us in Paris. Us at the beach. Us celebrating my birthday. In every picture, he was smiling, looking at me with what I thought was love. Now, all I could see was the performance. All I could feel was the profound, soul-crushing emptiness of being a substitute, a task to be completed.

I knew I had to leave. I couldn't stay another second in this house built on deceit.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my brother, Jameel.

"Hey, El, what's up?" his cheerful voice answered.

Tears choked me, and I could barely speak. "Jameel... can you come get me?"

His tone changed instantly. "What happened? Where are you? I'm on my way."

"I'm at Jaxon's," I sobbed. "Just... please come get me. I need to come home."