Almost Perfect, Never Me

It's our fifth year together, and I accompany my fiance, Theo Montague, to see the aurora he has always yearned to see. Fortune favors us that night as vivid green lights stretch across the snow-covered plain. He wraps his arms around me from behind and suddenly murmurs, "It's beautiful. Too bad we're still one step short of perfect." I freeze for a moment and ask him what we're missing. He doesn't answer, and I don't press him, either. After all, I've heard this phrase far too many times. When I go to great lengths to get him the out-of-print book he has his sights on for ages, he sighs. "We're still one step short of perfect." When we move into our beautifully furnished house and finally have a place of our own in Northshire, he laments, "We're still a step short." Even when he becomes a professor, our wedding's set, and everyone envies us for having it all, he still tells me, "This is wonderful, but it's still one step short of perfect." I've heard it so often that I assume he's simply harder to please than most people. The "one step short" he always speaks of seems nothing more than the small imperfection a perfectionist can never let go of. Everything changes when his most prized former student returns from abroad. For the first time ever, the man who rarely posts on social media shares a photo of himself picking her up at the airport. The woman standing next to him looks eerily like me, sharing at least 70% of my features. The caption reads, "My life's complete now that I've reunited with an old friend." That's when it hits me—the one thing he's missing is a person. I'm merely someone he settles for because I happen to look 70% like her. Since I'm only 70% similar to the woman he truly wants, how can I possibly give him the perfect life he longs for? Chapter 1 The page refreshed, and the post disappeared. Right on its heels, a message from Theo Montague popped up. "One of my former students is back in the country. Help me book the restaurant where our parents met last time. I'm hosting a welcome dinner for her tonight." Theo had been half an hour late that day because of an experiment. When he finally rushed over, he had stared at a dish for what felt like an eternity. I assumed his experiment had gone wrong and asked what was on his mind. Yet, he gave me a totally irrelevant response. "I used to have a student who loved this dish." I figured he had worked himself silly in the lab and was just spouting nonsense. After all, on any given day, he hardly cared about anything outside of his students' papers and lab progress. Looking back on it now, that wasn't a mindless babble. The student he had referred to was probably the person who had returned to the country that day. I didn't want to make a scene, so I simply replied with a single word, "Alright." It took some time to arrange a private dining room on such short notice. By the time I had confirmed the menu with the manager and prepared to leave, Theo had already arrived with a group of his students. He was leading the group, shoulder to shoulder with the woman from his post. The moment he spotted me, the smile on his face visibly stiffened. He marched up to me and, without giving me a chance to utter a word, pulled me aside. "Why are you still here? I only needed you to make the reservation. There's no reason for you to stay. "Everyone here tonight is a former student of mine. We rarely get together, and we'll mostly be talking about school and our research. If you stay here… you'll be bored out of your mind." I was already in a bad mood because of the post, and now he was giving me a whole lecture. My expression hardened as I forcefully yanked my hand free. "Why are you so full of yourself? I never intended to stay in the first place!" His expression didn't soften in the slightest when he heard that. If anything, he blurted out, "In that case, you shouldn't show your face in front of my students!" As soon as the words left his mouth, silence stretched between us. Realizing he had crossed a line, he hastily added, "That's not what I mean. I'm sure you know that I prefer keeping my private life away from work and my students." I had heard that line countless times before. He had said the same thing when I wanted to drop by his workplace to see him and offered to pick him up after work. Even after our wedding date was set and I asked if we should send invitations to a few of his students, he still said, "I'd like to keep my private life and personal life separate." I had taken his words at face value. The true meaning behind those words only dawned on me now. It had nothing to do with keeping his personal and professional lives separate. It was because that female student and I looked so much alike—so much so that if he ever introduced me to his students and colleagues who knew her, everyone would know that Professor Montague, who had always been dignified, self-disciplined, and above reproach, had once harbored such unspeakable feelings for his own student. I curled my lips into a derisive smile and was just about to fire back when someone's voice suddenly sounded from behind me. "Professor Montague." The woman paused for a beat and asked hesitantly, "This is…" I turned around and found myself face-to-face with the woman from his post. Her hair had been tied up in the photo, but now, it fell loose over her shoulders. I belatedly realized that we looked even more alike than we had in the picture. Even the length of our hair was almost identical. The only difference was that she had probably always liked wearing her hair long, while I had only slowly grown out my short hair after Theo had begged me again and again to do so. The woman visibly froze when she got a good look at my face. Without saying a word, I turned to Theo. Deep down, a foolish sliver of hope still lingered. I wanted to hear how he would introduce me. "S-She's…" Theo stammered for a long while, failing to come up with a proper answer. Hope died, and so did my patience. I took the initiative to extend my hand to the woman. "Hello, I'm Yvette, Theo's fiancee." Noticing the color drain from her face, I beamed at her. "However, looking at things right now, it seems I'm just your substitute." "What on earth are you on about?" Theo snapped. I ignored him and bade the woman farewell, all smiles. "Enjoy your meal. I'll take my leave now." With that, I left without sparing him another glance. Chapter 2 When I arrived home, I stood rooted to the spot in the entryway without turning on the lights. This was our marital home. From the couch to the dining table, from the color of the curtains to the style of the chandelier, every little detail had been chosen and settled on by Theo and me. We had shared innumerable tender moments in this house. We'd curled up on the couch to watch movies, fumbled around in the kitchen as we tried to cook together, and shared passionate nights in the bedroom, the bathroom, and even in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. However, without fail, at the height of our intimacy, he would always gaze at my face with a lovestruck look and blurt out something that completely ruined the mood. "We're only one step away from perfection." What were we missing? At long last, I had an answer for the question that had tormented me for ages. We were missing someone, a woman, to be specific. The thought made my stomach churn. I staggered into the bathroom, clutching the edge of the sink as I dry-heaved over it. When there was nothing left to throw up but bile, I raised my head and stared at my ghastly pale reflection in the mirror. Tears suddenly welled up in my eyes. "Theo Montague, are you actually looking at me, or are you looking at another woman through me?" … By the time I finished washing up and came out, it was 10:00 pm. Theo always claimed it was dangerous for his students to be out late, so whenever he dined with them, he made sure to wrap up by 9:00 pm. That night, however, the door didn't open until close to midnight. Theo—who rarely drank—walked in reeking of alcohol. The moment he laid eyes on me, he demanded, "Yvette, why did you say those things in front of Octavia today?" I was caught off guard. "Who?" His expression darkened further. "Octavia. My student, Octavia Everleigh!" Octavia. October. The moment the two words overlapped in my mind, it felt as though someone had doused me in a bucket of ice-cold water. When we started seeing each other, Theo had told me that October was his favorite month. Later, he had written more than once in the acknowledgments of his papers that October was his favorite month. Consequently, throughout the five years we had been together, I had prepared a gift for him every October. To make matters worse, I had even changed my WhatsApp username to October. We'd set our wedding date for October, too. It hit me that he wasn't in love with October. He was in love with Octavia. An overwhelming wave of humiliation nearly drowned me. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. "Was I wrong, though?" Gazing at him, my voice trembled. "I dare you to look me in the eye and tell me that everything, from her name to her face to the hair you've repeatedly asked me to grow long, is merely a coincidence, Theo Montague! "I dare you to tell me that I, Yvette Rosenthal, am not the substitute you chose after you couldn't have the woman you really wanted!" His head was whipped to the side, and he sobered up a little. When he shifted his attention toward me, his eyes had finally regained some clarity. After a prolonged silence, as if realizing he could no longer hide the truth, he admitted lowly, "Initially, I did notice you because you looked like her. However, I really did fall in love with you later on. "More importantly, she's my student. Nothing ever went down between us back then, and nothing ever will. Why are you holding on to this and making such a big deal out of it?" I was making a big deal out of this. In his eyes, I was the one at fault. Yet, I had my own pride. There was no way in hell that I would be another woman's substitute. "From the moment you chose me because of my face, we were already wrong for each other. Let's call off our wedding." He didn't think much of it, assuming that was something I'd said in the heat of the moment. "Our wedding's only a week away. The invitations have already been sent out, and both our families, relatives, and friends have all been notified. "If you call it off now, what's going to happen to your parents' reputations?" I'd rather bear the shame of disappointing Mom and Dad than marry a man whose heart will always belong to someone else. Without wasting another breath on him, I turned on my heel to pick up a pair of scissors from the table. Without the slightest hesitation, I cut off the long hair I'd been growing for five years. When my hair fell and scattered across the floor, his expression finally shifted. "Do you really have to take it this far, Yvette?" "I'm not making a scene. I'm breaking up with you." Theo stared at me long and hard before chuckling in exasperation. "Seriously, with that attitude, who else do you think would put up with you? I'm going to stay at the dorm for a few days. Use this time to cool off and get your head straight. There's no need for us to see each other before the wedding." With that, he slammed the door and stormed off. I lowered my head and stared at the brown strands of hair scattered across the floor. Moments later, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. As soon as the call connected, I asked, "I'm missing a groom for my wedding in a week. Are you in?" Chapter 3 After Theo moved out, I was more than happy to have my peace and quiet as I slowly packed up my belongings. However, on the afternoon of the fifth day, when I went to the bridal shop to pick up my wedding gown, I spotted two familiar faces in the fitting area—Theo and Octavia. Worse still, she was wearing the wedding gown I'd custom-ordered six months in advance. When he caught sight of me, he arched his brow and scoffed. "I thought you said the wedding was off. Why are you here? You talked a big game, yet you still came here to try on your wedding gown." Without sparing him so much as a glance, I said to the visibly flustered sales associate beside him, "I've already paid for this wedding gown in full. Why is someone else wearing it?" The sales associate stammered, "Y-Your fiance said..." "He's not my fiance," I cut her off coldly. Then, I pointed at Octavia. "Now, have her take it off." Theo scowled. "Can't you be a little more sensible, Yvette? Do you really have to make such a scene in public? Octavia's my student. She's just never worn a wedding gown before, so I brought her here to try one on." "She's never been dead either. Why don't you drop dead with her while you're at it?" "Yvette!" His expression darkened in an instant. "Must you always be so cruel with your words?" Octavia walked up to us with teary eyes. "I'm sorry, Yvette. I just thought this wedding gown was gorgeous, and I couldn't help myself…" My gaze landed on her, and I was about to snap back when the emerald bangle on her wrist caught my eye. In a heartbeat, all my biting words died in my throat. That was the Montagues' family heirloom. Supposedly, ever since Theo's great-great-grandmother's time, it had been passed down strictly to the lady of the Montague family. That bangle had always been like a carrot dangled right in front of my eyes. I could see it, but I always had to push myself harder before I could touch it. Because Theo's mother, Sienna Bellamy, casually mentioned that he had a sensitive stomach, I'd taught myself how to cook elaborate meals for him. Because Theo's father, Winston Montague, loved art, I'd forced myself to study ancient relics and copybooks I'd never had any interest in. Even when it came to choosing gifts for holidays and special occasions, I had to deliberate over it half a month in advance. Theo had always known of my efforts. He'd smile and ruffle my hair. "What's the rush? I'll put it on you myself on our wedding day." His words had made me glow with happiness for a long, long time. Yet now, I realized that the one thing I'd had to work so hard to obtain was given to Octavia so effortlessly. She didn't even have to do a single thing. So, this was the difference between the woman he loved and the woman he didn't. As Theo sensed my gaze, an awkward expression crossed his face. However, he soon regained his self-righteous composure. "I'll give you a grand wedding and the title of my wife. This bangle, on the other hand, is merely a material possession. I'll let Octavia have it so she has something to remember me by." A self-deprecating chuckle escaped my lips. Looking back now, all those years I'd spent desperately trying to please him seemed like nothing more than a joke. However, I only dwelled on that thought for a fraction of a second before I pulled myself together. "It's your family's property. You can give it to whomever you want. However, this wedding gown was bought with my own money." I locked eyes with Octavia. "Now, take it off." Theo's expression hardened. "Give it a rest, Yvette! If you keep being this unreasonable, I won't show up on the wedding day. Let's see how you explain it to both our families and friends when you don't have a groom at the altar!" I almost laughed out loud. I'd already found myself a groom ages ago. From the moment I made that phone call, my wedding ceased to have anything to do with Theo. I couldn't be bothered to explain myself, though. I simply reiterated, "Take off my wedding gown." When Theo realized I wasn't giving him an ounce of grace, his features contorted, and he reached out to seize my arm. "Get over here!" His movement was so frantic that I bumped into the display rack beside me. The heavy metal clothing rack came crashing down toward us. However, he instinctively let go of my hand and rushed to shield Octavia, who was farther away, pulling her tightly into his arms. The very next second, with a deafening thud, the rack struck my wrist dead-on. The excruciating pain turned everything before my eyes pitch-black, causing my entire body to tremble uncontrollably. … After being rushed to the hospital, the doctor held up my X-rays and told me that I had a hairline fracture in my right wrist. I wouldn't be able to hold a pen for extended periods for at least three months, let alone do any work that required fine motor skills. I stared at my right hand encased in a cast in silence for what felt like an eternity. I was an architectural designer, and not long after my wedding was the international design competition I'd spent an entire year preparing for. Now, it was all ruined. Chapter 4 At long last, the gravity of the situation sank in for Theo. He sat beside my hospital bed, cautiously eyeing my cast-bound hand. "The doctor said you'll make a full recovery. Why don't you look at this as a chance to rest? There'll always be other competitions." I closed my eyes. "Get out." His expression froze, but for once, he didn't snap at me. After a moment of silence, his tone actually softened. "Yvette, our wedding is in two days. Judging by your condition, if you really can't manage, we can have Octavia take your place." My eyes flew open, and I almost thought my ears were playing tricks on me. Theo, however, explained in all seriousness. "In any case, you two look alike. Once she's in the wedding gown with full makeup on, the guests won't be able to tell the difference from a distance." The rage I'd been bottling up for days overflowed. "Is this the reason you stayed? To tell me this?" "I just have your best interests in mind." He frowned. "Besides, you're not in good shape right now. I don't want you to push yourself." I grabbed the vase off the nightstand and hurled it at him without the slightest hesitation. He sidestepped it. The very next second, I pelted him with everything I could lay my hands on—pillows, my water glass, and the fruit basket. "Get out. Get the hell out of my face, Theo Montague!" Theo's expression finally darkened. However, when he reached the door, he still turned around. "Give my suggestion some thought. We still have a lifetime ahead of us. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of this one wedding?" The door clicked shut, plunging the hospital room into silence. How could he possibly think I wouldn't care about this wedding? His research was demanding, so for the last six months, I had handled almost every detail of the wedding on my own. I had picked out my wedding gown six months in advance. I had gone to seven different florists before settling on white tulips. I had gone over the guest list, seating arrangements, wedding favors, and even the color of the tablecloths innumerable times. I had done all of that not only so that the most important day of my life would be free of regrets, but also so that on our wedding day, I could hear him call it perfect. But now, it dawned on me that no matter how well I prepared, I would never hear the word "perfect" from his lips. Not unless I agreed to let Octavia put on my wedding gown and take my place. Ever since I saw his post, the emotions I'd been bottling up had finally become too much to contain. I curled up on the hospital bed, bawling my eyes out until my whole body trembled. I cried until my eyes burned when my phone buzzed with a message from Theo. "Have you made up your mind? The wedding photos aren't going to look good with that cast on your arm. Why don't you let Octavia take your place for now? Once you're all better, I'll make it up to you with another ceremony." I stared at the screen for a few seconds before replying with a single word, "Sure." In any case, he wasn't the man I was going to tie the knot with. Thus, whoever stood beside him at the altar was none of my business. It wasn't long before Octavia posted an update. "Can't wait for the day after tomorrow!" Theo replied underneath it, "It's going to be a perfect day." I took one look at it and swiped right past. … On the day of my wedding, as soon as I arrived at the hotel, I ran straight into Octavia, who was dressed in my wedding gown. Theo, who was standing beside her, immediately looked grim when he spotted me in a wedding gown as well. "What are you doing here, Yvette? Didn't you agree to let Octavia take your place?" I shot him a bewildered look. "I did agree to give up the position of your bride to her." "In that case, why are you here?" "To get married, of course." Theo looked at me as if he'd just heard the funniest joke. "There's a limit to everything, Yvette. You don't even have a groom. Who on earth are you getting married to?" As soon as his words fell, a deep, amused male voice sounded behind me, "Who said she doesn't have a groom?" Footsteps approached from behind and stopped a short distance behind me. "Please step aside, Professor Montague. I've come for my bride."