My Husband Was the Stand-In All Along

All of Stonebridge knew that Damon Greyback had proposed to me just to make Viola Blake regret leaving him. The night before their engagement, they had a fight, and Viola flew to Valmere in a fit of anger. Damon didn't chase after her. Three weeks later, he placed the diamond ring he'd chosen for her on my finger. Back then, I was still an unknown actress, while he already controlled the entire Greyback Group. By our third year of marriage, Damon seemed to have truly fallen in love with me. He would cancel his weekend golf games and stand in the kitchen wearing his dress shirt, making toast for me. When I had early call times, he would wrap me in his coat while I was still half asleep, carry me to the edge of the bed, and put my shoes on for me. During our most intimate moments, I would kiss his ear and whisper, "Damon, let's have a baby. A son, preferably. One who looks just like you." We looked exactly like a couple deeply in love. The day I found out I was pregnant, Viola returned before I could tell him. That night, some former classmates from Saint Andrew's Preparatory School held a reunion at a private club. Damon had never been interested in those kinds of gatherings. But after receiving a phone call, he suddenly changed his mind and asked the driver to make a detour to pick me up. When I opened the door to the private room, I saw Viola sitting in the center of the group. Her family had gone bankrupt. Even the last house her father owned had been seized to cover their debts. A man she once looked down on, Vincent Hayes, was forcing a full glass of whiskey toward her. "Finish it, and I'll consider giving you $100,000." Viola choked on the liquor. Her eyes turned red, but she forced herself to smile. That smile disappeared the moment she saw Damon walk in with me by the hand. Someone whistled. "Your savior is here, Viola. Why don't you convince Damon to sleep with you one more time? Maybe he'll help settle your family's debts." Damon pulled out a chair and seated me beside him. His voice remained calm. "Watch your words. My wife is sitting right here." Everyone immediately changed the subject. They started praising my new movie and raising glasses to celebrate our third wedding anniversary. Damon wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his thumb gently brushing against me. He looked like the perfect devoted husband. But I knew better. If Viola hadn't returned, he never would have shown up at that party. Vincent still wasn't willing to let it go. He grabbed Viola by the hair and forced her to look up. "Looks like Mr. Greyback doesn't want you anymore. That's fine. I do." He shoved a hotel key card into her hand and tapped her cheek with a smile. "Spend the night with me. Make me happy, and you can write whatever amount you want on the check." Damon placed his glass down. The smile slowly disappeared from his face. Tears streamed down Viola's cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I've only ever loved one man in my life." Damon's arm tightened around my shoulders. "Stop pretending to be innocent. Aren't you desperate for money? Or am I suddenly not good enough for you?" Humiliated and furious, Vincent grabbed Viola's arm and dragged her toward the door. She stumbled, one shoe slipping off. Her cries for help were drowned out by the laughter around her. Finally, Damon stood. He grabbed Vincent by the collar and slammed him against the edge of the table. Glasses toppled over, sending shards of glass across the floor. "Touch her again. I dare you." Viola cried Damon's name, but he seemed unable to hear anything else. He punched Vincent again and again. When I saw someone raise a phone to record, I hurried forward and grabbed Damon's arm. "Damon, security is coming. Let him go." He turned toward me. The anger in his eyes hadn't faded. "Stay out of this, Fay. This has nothing to do with you." My fingers froze around his arm. The entire room fell silent. Even the people holding their phones turned their cameras toward me. Slowly, I released him and stepped back. My face burned. Damon's face looked so much like his—but he would never wear such a terrifying expression. And he would never snap at me for another woman's sake. Only then did Damon let Vincent go. He removed his coat and draped it over Viola's shoulders. She threw herself into his arms, pressing her face against his neck as she sobbed uncontrollably. Damon didn't look at me again before leaving with her. At 1 a.m., Viola posted online. Viola: You promised this hand would always belong to me. The photo showed two hands intertwined. The watch on the man's wrist was the anniversary gift I had given Damon. Within 30 minutes, the story spread everywhere. Entertainment outlets mocked me as "the abandoned Mrs. Greyback." My agent, Judy Ackley, called. She said Greyback Group's public relations team didn't dare release a statement without Damon's approval. All they could do was beg me to post a photo and pretend Damon had spent the entire night at home with me. Several brands had hired Damon and me specifically because of our image as a loving couple. If the scandal grew, those contracts would be at risk. I scrolled through my photo album for a long time before finally finding a picture of Damon reading documents in his study. I posted it with one sentence. Fay: After a long day, we finally get to rest. The comments exploded almost immediately. A: [He's obviously at home with his wife. What is Viola trying to do?] B: [Stop interfering in someone else's marriage.] Six minutes later, Damon commented beneath Viola's post. Damon: [That is my hand.] I stared at those four words, my finger frozen above the screen. I had taken all the criticism for him. And he only gave me six minutes of dignity. His words sent Viola's fans flooding into my comments, laughing at me for using an old photo while even my own husband refused to support my lie. Then I got a text from Damon. Damon: Don't overthink it. I'll come over tonight. I deleted the explanation I'd started typing. Anything I said now would only make it look like I was begging him to defend me. Who said I wanted his love? A closer look would reveal it: the man in the photo had a gentleness and depth in his eyes that Damon's face could never show. 'Damon, you're just a stand-in who will never measure up to him.' I opened my laptop and sent the divorce papers I'd prepared long ago to my attorney. Then I added one line. Fay: Time to begin.