Chapter 2

I let Mark walk into the house ahead of me. The moment I stepped through the door from the garage, the smell of Brittany' s perfume hit me. It was the same floral scent she' d worn since high school, a scent I now associated with betrayal.

And there she was.

My younger sister was curled up on my sofa, in my living room, wearing one of my silk robes. A half-empty glass of wine sat on my coffee table next to her. She looked up as we entered, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips.

"Chloe, you're back!" she chirped, as if she belonged there. "Mark was so worried about you."

She stood up and glided over to him, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Mark, my supposed husband, instantly relaxed under her touch. He put his arm around her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze, his eyes soft with an affection that made my stomach turn.

"I told you she'd be fine," he murmured to Brittany, completely ignoring my presence.

The sight of them together, so comfortable and intimate in the home I thought was mine, was a physical blow. They had been doing this for ten years. Hiding in plain sight. Laughing at me behind my back.

"Brittany," I said, my voice flat. "What are you doing here?"

Brittany looked at me, her expression a perfect mask of innocence. "What do you mean? I came to see you and Mark. I was worried when I heard your car broke down."

"Don't lie to me," I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to control it.

"Chloe, that's enough," Mark snapped, stepping in front of Brittany as if to protect her. "Your sister is just concerned. You're overreacting because of the car."

He still thought this was about the car. The sheer depth of his deceit was staggering.

Just then, my mother came down the stairs. She' d been staying with us for the week. Her face was etched with worry.

"Chloe, dear, I heard you had car trouble. Are you alright?" she asked, rushing to my side. Then she saw Brittany, wrapped in Mark' s arms, looking like the lady of the house. Mom' s eyes narrowed. "Brittany? What' s going on here?"

Brittany detached herself from Mark, a sly look in her eyes. "Mark was just calming me down, Mom. I get so anxious when I think something might have happened to Chloe." She looked at me, her words dripping with false sweetness. "After all, you're the only sister I have."

The implication hung in the air, a poisonous cloud. She wasn't just my sister; she was my husband's wife. My legal replacement.

I felt a wave of nausea. My head started to spin. I grabbed the back of a chair to steady myself.

Seeing my distress, Brittany' s eyes lit up. But before I could even sway, she suddenly gasped, clutching her own stomach. "Oh!" she cried out, her face contorting in fake pain. "Mark... I don't feel so well."

It was a masterful performance. My genuine shock and sickness were instantly overshadowed by her fabricated drama.

"Brittany!" Mom exclaimed, her voice sharp with anger. She had always seen through her younger daughter' s manipulations. "Stop this nonsense right now! Your sister is the one who is clearly unwell!"

Mark, however, was completely taken in. "Chloe is fine!" he spat, his face a mask of fury directed entirely at me. "Can't you see Brittany is in pain? You're always so selfish, Chloe! You only think about yourself and your stupid car!"

His words were so cruel, so detached from the reality of the situation, that I could only stare at him in stunned silence. This was the man I loved. This was the man who had shared my bed for a decade.

"I'm sorry, Mark," Brittany whimpered, leaning heavily against him. "Maybe... maybe it's the baby."

The baby. The words dropped into the tense room like a bomb.

Mom gasped. I felt the last bit of strength leave my body.

Mark' s face went from anger to shock, then to dazed joy. He scooped Brittany up into his arms as if she were made of glass.

"The baby? Are you pregnant?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I... I think so," Brittany said, burying her face in his neck.

Without another glance at me or my mother, Mark turned and carried Brittany towards the stairs. "I'm taking you to the hospital right now. We need to get you checked out immediately." He threw a final, venomous look over his shoulder at me. "Stay here. We'll deal with your tantrum later."

They disappeared up the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing their departure.

I stood there, frozen. My mother rushed to my side, her arms wrapping around me. "Chloe, oh, Chloe."

But I was already gone. My world had shattered. As the front door slammed shut, a new voice cut through the silence. It was Brittany, speaking to my mother from the entryway, her voice no longer weak, but sharp and cruel.

"Oh, and Mom," she said, the malice clear and undisguised. "You should probably know. That marriage certificate Chloe is so proud of? It' s fake. Mark and I have been married for ten years. I'm his real wife."