The warmth of Adrian beside me didn't feel like comfort.
It felt like confusion.
He hadn't touched me all night, but he also hadn't moved away. His breathing was steady, calm, as though we were any other couple—married, peaceful, asleep.
But we weren't.
Not even close.
When the sun rose, I was already dressed and downstairs before he woke.
Mrs. Sanders, our housekeeper, handed me a letter. "This came this morning. No return address."
I opened it slowly.
Inside, a single photo—of Adrian and Melissa, smiling on a beach. My stomach tightened. And under it, in a neat, unfamiliar handwriting:
**"You'll never be her."**
No name. No explanation. Just a knife to the heart in words.
---
I confronted Adrian that evening.
"Did you send this?" I asked, tossing the envelope on the table.
He picked it up, glanced at the photo, then frowned. "No. Where did you get this?"
"It came this morning."
He looked again. "This was taken two years ago. Before I proposed."
"I don't want to see it."
"I didn't send it, Claire."
"But someone did," I snapped. "Someone who wants me to know I'll never replace her."
Adrian walked closer. "You're not replacing her."
I froze. "What?"
He looked uncomfortable. "You're not her. That's obvious. But you're... something else."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I don't know where we stand anymore."
---
That night, he didn't leave the room. Again.
But he still didn't touch me.
We lay there, trapped in silence, wrapped in a storm of feelings neither of us understood.
---
The next day, Melissa returned.
I opened the door to find her standing there — confident, glowing, cruel.
"Still playing house with my leftovers?" she asked sweetly.
I didn't flinch. "He's not yours anymore."
"He was never yours to begin with."
"And you were never brave enough to stay."
Her eyes narrowed. "He still loves me. I know it. I can feel it."
I stepped back. "Then maybe you should ask him… if he still feels the same."
---
Melissa came in uninvited.
Adrian was in the study when she barged in.
"I want to talk," she said.
He barely looked up. "There's nothing to say."
"You're really going to pretend like we didn't mean anything?"
"I'm not pretending."
She moved closer. "I made a mistake. I want to fix it."
He stood up, calm but stern. "It's too late, Melissa."
I watched from the hallway, unnoticed, holding my breath.
"I'm married now," he said clearly. "And even if it didn't start the right way… I'm not letting her go."
I gasped softly.
Melissa's face cracked. "You'll regret this."
"Maybe," he said. "But not today."
---
That night, I lay in bed in silence, until Adrian finally spoke:
"You heard?"
"I did."
He exhaled slowly. "I meant what I said."
I turned toward him. "Then prove it."
He looked at me with something I couldn't name.
And for the first time…
He kissed me like I was not a replacement.
But a choice.