Chapter 3: The Video
959 Words
The laptop sat in the center of the dining table like a ticking bomb.
Andrew didn't sit. He stood, arms folded, eyes locked on Stella. The blue light from the screen lit his face in harsh angles.
“I want you to explain this," he said.
Stella looked down at the paused video. The grainy footage showed a Lisbon music festival stage. The woman at the mic had wild curls, a silver dress, and her voice—Ella's voice—rang out, clear and familiar.
Her exact voice.
Stella's lips parted. “Where did you get this?"
“My assistant found it," he replied. “Three days ago. She was trying to book a jazz trio and saw this in the suggested videos."
He clicked play.
The woman laughed on stage. “This one goes out to the guy who said I wasn't 'wife material.' Hope you're watching."
The audience roared.
Andrew paused again.
“That's not me," Stella said quietly.
“No," he said. “It's not."
He sat down now, eyes never leaving hers.
“I want the truth. All of it."
Stella took a breath. Her hands trembled, but she folded them in her lap to hide it.
“Ella ran away the night before your engagement party. She left a note and vanished."
“I remember," Andrew said. “Your parents called it a nervous breakdown."
“It wasn't. She went off with her boyfriend—the drummer."
He nodded once, slowly. “And?"
“They panicked. You know what that marriage meant for their business, for their image. My mother cried until she couldn't breathe. My father... he said the whole family would collapse."
Andrew's voice was cold. “So they asked you to pretend."
Stella nodded. “Just until Ella came back."
“And you agreed."
“I didn't want to," she whispered. “But I thought it was temporary. I didn't think you'd actually go through with the wedding."
Andrew leaned back. “You said nothing. For two years."
“I tried," she said, pleading. “But you were... kind. Different from what Ella said you'd be. I thought maybe you knew. That maybe, on some level, you wanted me there."
“I didn't know," he snapped. “I thought you were her."
“You never looked close enough to tell."
That landed hard. Andrew's jaw tightened.
“And then," Stella continued, “I fell in love. Not with the idea of being Ella, not with the role—but with you. And that made everything harder."
“So you let me live a lie."
“I built a life with you. I tried to be good to you. I tried to make it real."
His laugh was bitter. “That doesn't make it right."
“No," she said. “But it's the truth."
Andrew stood again, pacing now. “I was a fool."
“You weren't," she said softly. “You just believed what you were shown."
He stopped pacing and stared at her. “Do you know how humiliating it is? To find out I've been sleeping next to someone I didn't even know?"
She flinched.
He didn't soften. “To watch that video and realize everything I've built—my marriage, my home—was based on a lie?"
“I never meant to deceive you."
“But you did."
A long silence.
Stella's voice broke. “So what now?"
Andrew looked out the window. “You'll stay in the house. For now."
She blinked. “You want me to stay?"
He turned back to her. “Until I decide what to do."
“Am I your prisoner?"
“You're my wife."
“Am I?" she asked.
He didn't answer.
She stepped back. “You're angry. I get it. But I wasn't trying to hurt you."
“Intent doesn't erase consequence," he said.
Stella nodded slowly. “No. It doesn't."
Andrew moved to the door. “I'll be home late."
“When aren't you?"
He paused, glanced back at her, then left.
---
That night, Stella sat alone at the kitchen table, the laptop still open. She clicked the video again.
Ella laughed under the Lisbon lights, radiant and alive.
Stella closed the tab and shut the laptop.
---
The next evening, Stella heard voices in the front hall.
Andrew. And Ella.
She froze mid-step on the staircase.
“Thanks again for letting me stay," Ella was saying.
“I didn't do it for you," Andrew replied.
“Still. I appreciate it."
A beat of silence.
“Do you hate me?" Ella asked.
“No," Andrew said. “But I'm trying not to."
That answer struck something in Stella's chest.
She turned, heading back up the stairs.
---
Later, in their bedroom, Stella waited.
Andrew came in past midnight, loosened his tie, and didn't acknowledge her.
She tried.
“Did you eat?"
“Not hungry."
She tried again. “Ella said she's staying for a few days."
He gave her a look. “Do you have a problem with that?"
“I don't know. Should I?"
“You're the reason this is happening."
“She's the one who left," Stella said. “I just tried to clean up the mess."
Andrew sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his face. “I need space."
“I've been giving you space for a year."
“Well, keep giving it."
She swallowed. “And if I don't?"
He stood. “Then don't be surprised if things get uglier than they already are."
He walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
Stella sat alone, the hum of the overhead fan the only sound left.
She stared at the closed door, then down at her hands.
They weren't shaking anymore.
- Writer
