Loving You Was My Solo Act; You Regretted It Later

On my twenty-fourth birthday, Les Henson proposed to me.

But the words that lit up the giant screen on the Twin Towers read:

Fern Winfield, marry me!

Fern Winfield was my sister.

Four years ago, she died in a car accident on her way to pick me up from the airport.

Because of it, Les developed a severe mental illness.

To help the doctors treat him, I became my sister's stand-in.

Looking at the tenderness in his eyes, I nodded through red-rimmed eyes and said yes.

The instant I reached out my right hand, his face changed.

"Why are you wearing nail polish? Fern never liked things like this!"

The crowd's cheering turned into piercing screams.

Les tore off all ten of my nails, one by one, until the pain sent me under.

It had happened more times than I could count.

I had hair down to my waist, but my sister liked hers short, cut to the shoulder, so Les went mad and chopped off the hair I had grown for eighteen years.

I couldn't eat the sweets my sister hated, couldn't listen to the music she didn't like, couldn't wear heels

The moment I did anything my sister wouldn't have done, Les would lose control and fly into a rage.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

Les stood in the doorway, talking in a low voice with his friend Dr. Floyd.

"It's been four years already. Let Doris Winfield go, and let yourself go too."

"How do you know Doris isn't enjoying every minute of it?"

Les's gaze swept over my face, cold and remote.

"I read her diary. She's developed feelings for me she never should have."

"A person like her makes me sick."

Under the blanket, my hand clenched until it hurt.

This one-woman show was finally reaching its end.

The air conditioning left me chilled to the bone, shaking and unable to stop.

Dr. Floyd spoke up.

"Les, what happened back then was just an accident. Why take it out on Doris?"

"Doris has suffered for four years for your 'illness.' If she ever found out you've been faking it all along, she"

"Accident?"

Les gave a cold laugh and cut him off.

"If she hadn't come home out of nowhere, why would Fern have gone out to get her that late? How would any of this have happened?"

He twisted his mouth.

"In her diary, she wrote that her birthday wish this year was to cure me and pull me out of the dark."

"Three days from now, at the wedding, I'll grant that wish of hers."

Something startled flickered in Dr. Floyd's eyes.

"What are you going to do?"

"At the wedding, in front of everyone, I'll expose her for what she really is."

Les's smile twisted.

"I'll make Doris's diary public. I'll tell everyone she used the excuse of curing me to climb into my bed."

"That she killed her own sister and then seduced her sister's man. A slut that vile, that disgusting, that everyone should spit on!"

Dr. Floyd's eyes went wide with disbelief.

"Les, do you hear yourself?"

"Aren't you afraid Doris might snap and do something reckless?"

Les's mouth went tight.

"If Doris really is that fragile, then let her go down and atone to Fern."

"But if she survives this, I'll claim I'm cured, say I have to take responsibility for her, and stay with her from then on. Bury the past for good."

When he finished, his gaze fell on me again.

Only this time, buried in all that tangled feeling, there was a trace of tenderness I couldn't understand.

Dr. Floyd hesitated for a long moment, then finally asked.

"Les, is there really not even a little part of you that likes Doris?"

Les didn't answer.

He clapped Dr. Floyd on the shoulder and told him to call the moment I woke up.

After they left, I slowly opened my half-closed eyes.

Every bit of love and hope in me shattered at once, and the things he'd said came surging in like a tide, drowning me whole.

Four years ago, when Les learned Fern was dead, he collapsed from the shock.

When he came to, he mistook me for Fern.

Dr. Floyd said the shock of Fern's death had given him a severe mental illness, and that I needed to help with his treatment.

I already felt guilty, so I agreed without a second thought.

Later, in his lucid moments, Les would apologize for the harm he'd done me, take me out on dates, make me happy, and little by little I couldn't help falling in love with him.

I hoped that on the day he was cured, I could stay by his side as "Doris."

But now I had stumbled onto their secret.

These four years were nothing but Les's punishment, his revenge on me for killing Fern.

I took out my phone and opened my email.

It was a job offer from overseas, and the start date listed on it was exactly three days away. My wedding day.

I didn't hesitate. I tapped "Accept."

This wedding would go ahead as planned. Only the bride would be someone else.

The next morning, my parents got the news and rushed to the hospital.

I was just about to tell them Les was faking the illness.

But my mother, sitting on the edge of my bed, spoke first.

"Doris, what were you doing painting your nails? You know perfectly well Fern doesn't like things like that."

"Les is mentally fragile. He can't take any kind of shock."

"Until the wedding is over, I'm going to stay right here and watch you, and make sure you act exactly like Fern."

My father stood in the doorway, worn out.

"Doris, just listen to your mother and play Fern's part properly."

"Your brother graduates from college this year, and he'll need Les's help to get a job."

"These past four years, it's thanks to Les that your brother got to study abroad and bring honor to the Winfield name."

I opened my mouth, then swallowed the words after all.

They didn't care about the truth at all.

Even if they knew Les was faking, they'd still make me keep playing the part, because they needed the money and connections in his hands to smooth the way for my brother.

And if they knew I was planning to run from the wedding, they'd stop me by any means possible.

Footsteps came from the doorway. Les.

My father hurried over to greet him.

"Les, my wife and I have already spoken to Doris about yesterday. She won't pull anything again."

Les stepped past my father, his eyes settling with pity on my ten bandaged fingers.

"Fern, how did your hands get hurt?"

Then he raised his hand and slapped himself hard across the face.

"It's my fault. I didn't take care of you. I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again."

I looked at his swollen red cheek, at the tears shining in his eyes.

And I couldn't help thinking what a good actor he was.

In four years he had never once slipped, which was why I'd been kept in the dark so long.

Seeing me frozen and silent, Les came closer and crouched down in front of me.

"Fern, rest and get your strength back these next few days."

"I'll handle the wedding. Everything set up just the way you like it."

"I'll make you the most beautiful bride there is."

The burning tenderness in his eyes was almost enough to melt me.

But I knew he was playing me for a fool right now.

"I'll expose her true face in front of everyone at the wedding."

"That slut who killed her own sister and seduced her sister's manhow disgusting, how despicable she is!"

Those words were still echoing in my ears.

I almost wanted to laugh, but the corner of my mouth trembled and flattened into a straight line.

I lowered my eyes and nodded, numb.

"All right."

Seeing this, my parents gave me a pointed look and slipped quietly out of the room.

Les suddenly stood, lifted a corner of the blanket, and lay down beside me.

He slid one arm under my back to pillow my head, and rested the other lightly on my waist.

"Fern, it's still early. Let me sleep a little longer with you."

Fern didn't like sleeping alone.

At home, our mother kept her company; after they started dating, Les did.

Watching his shut eyes, my body went rigid, my heart racing with fear.

The next second, his eyes opened.

"Doris!"

He kicked me off the bed. My forehead scraped the corner of the nightstand, and blood ran down my cheek and dripped to the floor.

As if he'd just realized something, he scrambled off the bed and helped me up.

"I'm sorry, Doris. I had another episode just now."

I pressed my lips together and said nothing.

Two years ago, he'd had too much to drink and pinned me down on the bed, and that night we slept together.

The next day, before I'd even come to my senses, he grabbed my arm and threw me out of the room, tossing me nothing but a towel to cover myself.

He was shaking all over, his eyes red as he glared at me.

"Doris! I'm your sister's man! How could you crawl into my bed while I was drunk?"

"How can you be so shameless?"

His shout rang down the corridor, and one by one the guests next door cracked open their doors to watch.

Someone even filmed me in that wretched state and posted it online.

I was twenty-two that year, fresh out of college, and the job I'd already lined up quietly fell through because of the scandal.

Afterward, to make it up to me, Les arranged a position for me at his company.

Back then I was naive enough to believe he only kept hurting me, again and again, because he was ill.

In the hospital room, a doctor was dressing my wound.

My mother looked at my bandaged forehead and frowned.

"How could you be so careless? You know perfectly well the wedding is in three days, and you couldn't even protect your own face?"

"That face of yours only looks about sixty percent like Fern as it is."

"If you upset Les and ruin your brother's future, don't bother coming home!"

My father added his part.

"Doris, your mother and I only want what's best for you. Les is honestly the best match you'll ever land. A person has to know when to be grateful."

I lowered my head and let out a soft laugh.

"I'm grateful."

The two of them reminded me over and over to play Fern well and keep Les happy.

By the time Les came back from settling the bill, my parents had already gone.

"Fern, today's our tenth anniversary. I've had my assistant book us a restaurant for tonight."

He handed me an elegant little gift bag.

"This is the dress I picked out for you. Put it on, and I'll come get you tonight."

He was acting sick again.

I didn't call it out. I played along.

"All right. I'll wait for you."

The dress was cut to Fern's measurements.

On an empty stomach, holding my breath tight, I barely squeezed into a dress a full size too small.

I had to keep a firm grip on the hem just to walk without exposing myself.

The strange looks from the men passing by left the embarrassment plain on my face.

But Les acted as if he didn't see my discomfort. Or rather, that was the whole point.

We reached the restaurant.

He pulled out my chair himself, his voice as gentle as ever.

"Fern, everything I ordered today is the seafood you love. You're going to be so happy."

One dish after another arrived at the table.

From start to finish, I never once touched my utensils.

I'm severely allergic to seafood. One bite, and my throat swells until I can't breathe.

Les knew.

But he smiled and set a peeled crab in front of me.

"Go on, eat. Everything's here now."

I looked at him.

"I can't eat seafood."

The smile froze on his face. He shot to his feet and glared at me with venom in his eyes.

"You're not like her anymore. You're not her!"

"Fern loved seafood most of all. She had a weak constitution, always cold, but she couldn't help herself, ate until her stomach ached every single time."

"How can you tell me you can't eat seafood?"

With that he came around to me, snatched the crab meat off the plate, and shoved it into my mouth.

"Eat it!"

I clenched my teeth and fought him with both hands.

But Les looked dead set on ending my life. His fingers dug in and wrenched my jaw loose.

As the crab meat was forced down my throat.

The pressure closing off my airway left me gasping, my heart pounding faster and faster, my vision blurring.

Right before I blacked out, his voice came low against my ear, the whisper of a devil.

"Doris, why couldn't it have been you who died that night?"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in a hospital bed.

Les kept watch at my bedside, his face full of remorse.

"Doris, I'm sorry. I lost control of myself again, and this time I got you hurt again."

"I promise there won't be a next time."

I nodded slightly.

"All right."

Not because I believed his lie. Because I would never give him another chance to hurt me.

I watched the corner of his mouth curve up, just faintly.

And in the silence of my own heart, I spoke.

"Les, I hope you'll like the gift I give you at the wedding, once you see it."

The wedding day.

Mom, Dad, and Toby Winfield all wore bright, glowing smiles.

The moment the wedding was over, my parents could move into the villa Les had prepared for them, and Toby would have a job waiting.

Les had put everything into this wedding.

He'd spent a fortune building a stage covered entirely in fresh flowers. Even the staff setting it up couldn't hide their envy.

The gown had been designed by hand by an international designer and flown in overnight.

Les had invited every one of my relatives and friends, and he'd gone out of his way to bring in several local media outlets to livestream it.

In the dressing room.

Mom sat on the sofa with her legs crossed, watching me.

"Doris, everything you have today is thanks to Fern Winfield and to us. You understand that, don't you?"

"When you go up there, remember to smile sweetly. Les always loved Fern's smile the most."

"After the wedding, change your name to your sister's. That way, when you and Les sign the marriage papers, he won't see the wrong name and have another episode."

The more she talked, the more excited she got, as if she really meant to turn me into Fern.

In her mind, as long as I could stand beside Les as Fern, they got to ride along on the wealth and comfort.

Before he left, Dad patted my shoulder.

"Doris, your mom and I will be right down there with you. Don't be scared."

I said nothing.

A few minutes later, Les came into the dressing room.

When he saw me in the gown, the corner of his mouth curved up, satisfied.

"Fern, this gown suits you. You're going to be the most beautiful bride today."

"I also prepared a gift for you."

"When we go up there together, you're going to love it."

I looked at him in the mirror in front of me.

"Les, call off the wedding now. There's still time."

He frowned, clearly not seeing that I already knew the truth.

He set both hands on my shoulders, his voice softening.

"Fern, are you nervous? Don't be scared. I'm right here."

"The wedding's about to start. I'll be waiting for you up there."

Then he left.

The whole dressing room was empty except for me.

I took off the jewelry, stepped out of the gown, and put on my own clothes.

I dragged the suitcase I'd hidden in the cabinet out the back door of the hotel and took a taxi to the airport.

As the music swelled, the doors where the bride waited swung open.

Les watched the veiled bride walk toward him step by step, and Doris's bright, shining eyes surfaced in his mind.

The calm he'd felt gave way to a sudden restlessness, and a fine sweat spread across his forehead.

The emcee spoke.

"Everyone, please look to the big screen. These are the beautiful moments of our groom and bride"

Les suddenly shouted.

"Don't play it."

But it was already too late. The button had been pressed, and the image was already on the screen.

The lively crowd below went dead still.

The photos on the screen weren't of Doris. They were of Fern, close and intimate with another man, a stranger.

And the dates printed beneath them ran across nearly the last four years.

"Isn't that Fern in the photos? Didn't she, four years ago"

"Somebody rigged this with AI as a prank, right? Fern's dead. How could she be in these pictures?"

"I heard Mr. Henson always treated Doris as Fern's stand-in. Is Doris getting back at him on purpose?"

At the murmuring, Les whipped his head around, and the instant he saw the screen, he froze.

Then he yanked the veil off the head of the woman beside him.

"Fern?"