The One He Never Held

1 At 2:00 AM, the rustling beside me woke me. I saw Marcus’s brow tightly furrowed. I couldn't help but ask, "Why are you back?

Did you have a fight with her?" He remained silent for a moment, then gave a slow nod. I sat up and offered a quiet word of comfort. "She’s young and spoiled.

Just throwing a little tantrum.

Buy her that bag or necklace she’s been eyeing tomorrow, and she’ll be fine." He stared at me, a deep, unreadable look in his eyes, but ultimately didn't say a word.

I lay back down and fell asleep as peacefully as ever. Four years.

It had taken four years to transform me from a hysterical, suicidal, jealous wreck into his most understanding confidante. ... At 7:00 AM, Marcus walked out of the bedroom.

He glanced at me. "What’s your schedule for today?" "I have plans for coffee," I replied, sliding the bowl of oatmeal toward him. "Want some?" He didn't sit.

Instead, he pulled an envelope from his briefcase and slid it across the table. "See if you like these." Inside were two VIP tickets to an art exhibition.

I tucked them into my bag. "Thanks. What brought this on?" "Tessa likes the artist," he paused, his voice dropping slightly. "These were extras." I nodded.

If this had been years ago, that bowl of oatmeal would have been dripping from his face by now. But now, I had learned not to waste food. I took a quiet sip.

He lingered, waiting for a reaction. When none came, he turned and left. It wasn't long before my phone rang with an unfamiliar number.

I used to ignore calls like this to avoid hearing her voice, but I had outgrown that habit. I picked up and put it on speaker. "Hey, Vivienne. It's Tessa.

Marcus left some important documents at my place. Do you mind swinging by to pick them up?" I scooped up another bite of oatmeal. "He has keys.

He can get them himself." "Actually, I wanted to talk to you. There are things I've been keeping inside..." My expression didn't change. "I'm busy this afternoon.

Maybe another time." I hung up. I was never actually a generous woman. Tessa had been provoking me for exactly four years and eight days. I kept count.

At first, I was a tinderbox, blowing up at the slightest spark and making a fool of myself. Later, friends advised me to focus on myself and ignore her.

So Tessa shifted her strategy. She stopped hiding and started pushing herself into my life.

One day she’d post the designer bag Marcus bought her; the next, she’d send screenshots of their latenight texts. In the end, I couldn't take it and went to confront her.

But Marcus always believed her over me. The more I fought, the uglier it got, trapping me in a vicious, suffocating cycle.

But now, no matter what cards she played, they had lost their power over me. At 3:00 PM, I had barely been at the café for half an hour when Marcus suddenly showed up.

He rarely crashed my plans. This was a surprise. "I was in the neighborhood," he said, pulling out a chair and casually flipping through the menu.

My friend, taking the hint, politely excused herself. I looked at him. "Is something wrong?" "Did Tessa call you this morning?" "Yes." "What did she say?" I looked up at him.

What could she say? Nothing but her usual boasts about how he was a beast in her bed but a corpse in mine. I still remembered the first time she called me.

It was our second anniversary. I had hosted a small dinner party, inviting our closest friends to celebrate our marriage. We waited for him until the party was nearly over.

Then, an unknown number called, filling the line with heavy, breathless gasps.

Just as I was about to apologize for a wrong number, a familiar male voice came through the speaker, breathless and feral: "Tessa, don't bite." Our friends froze, glasses suspended in midair.

Before leaving, every single one of them offered the same wellmeaning advice: "Vivienne, Marcus is a powerful man now. The temptations are endless.

Talk to him when he gets back, but don't do anything rash." And I listened. That night, we sat in the living room until 3:00 AM. I didn't scream. And he confessed.

He claimed it was a momentary lapse, that he’d had too much to drink and mistook Tessa for me.

Then he dropped to his knees, begging for forgiveness, swearing he would never do it again, swearing I was his only love. I believed him.

I thought that by exposing Tessa's cheap trick, Marcus would see her for what she was and keep his distance.

After all, what selfrespecting man wouldn't learn his lesson after being manipulated like that? But he didn't.

Instead of backing away, he decided Tessa was "brave enough to risk everything for him," and his heart bled for her.

Behind my back, he bought her a luxury apartment downtown, nurturing her with his wealth and affection. That was when I finally understood. There was no mistaken identity.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Tessa wasn't an accident. She was his choice. And I was the one left behind, biting my tongue and pretending to be the bigger person.