Loading promotion info...
He Faked His Split Personality. Mine Was Real
Novelix
Completed
For three years, my husband Adrian blamed "Dean," his alter, every time he ran to Chloe. 587 lies. I swallowed them all—until I heard him laugh about faking it. What he didn't know: I have DID too, and my doctor says the "me" who loves him is dying fast. When my alter Annie takes over, she settles every score—one slap, one exposed fraud, one bankruptcy at a time. He begs. I board a flight to see the Northern Lights. Alone. Finally free.
Chapters (4)
第1章
I'm standing in the kitchen when Adrian gets home.
He opens his mouth, and he's already lying to me again.
"Nora, that wasn't me yesterday. That was Dean. He took Chloe to the hospital."
Dean. His so-called "other personality."
He says it like he's said it a thousand times, waiting for me to nod and pretend everything's fine.
But yesterday afternoon, I stood outside that hospital room and heard them through the door.
"Adrian, aren't you scared she'll figure out you're faking the whole split personality thing?"
Adrian pinched Chloe's nose. "Come on, babe. If I didn't fake it, how else would I get to see you?"
What he didn't know was that, just a few hours earlier that same afternoon, I'd been sitting in Dr. Reeves' office.
"Ms. Sinclair," Dr. Reeves said, sliding the report across her desk.
"Your alter has been taking control more often. Your primary identity is fading."
The words sink in slowly. The part of me that loves him is dying.
......
"Nora?"
Adrian's voice pulls me back. I look up. He's standing in the kitchen doorway.
He walks over and puts his hand on my forehead. "You okay?"
His hand feels warm, and that's when I realize how cold I am.
My bones ache, my body burns with fever, and my head feels like it's filled with lead. The room starts to tilt.
Right then, his phone rings.
He picks up, and his expression changes instantly.
"Chloe? Fever again? Hey, hey—it's okay, baby. I'm coming, I'm coming right now."
He hangs up and turns to me, all guilty eyes.
"Nora, Chloe's sick. I — I mean, Dean has to go again."
I don't answer. My forehead is burning.
I grab his sleeve.
"Can you just stay? Please. Just tonight."
He doesn't even blink.
"Can't. Dean's been clawing at me all day. If I don't go, he's going to tear me apart."
Something in me finally snaps.
"Is Dean even real?"
"Or did you make him up? So you'd always have an excuse? To lie to me?"
He freezes. His eyes go cold. That's "Dean's" look.
Then he shoves me. Hard.
"What the hell are you saying?"
His voice is a low snarl.
"You think I'd lie to you? Adrian's let you run wild for too long, Nora."
"Say that one more time, and being a woman won't save you."
Then "Dean" walks out the door.
I stumble and hit the floor. Adrian pauses at the door. Looks back. Just once.
"Nora, I can't control him. You know that. We'll talk when I'm back."
I grab the counter and pull myself up.
Slowly, I open my left palm.
There's a line of writing across it.
Thin, careful, like someone traced the same letters over and over with a ballpoint pen.
He lied to you again. 587 times.
Annie wrote it.
Annie. My alter, my other personality. She has always kept count for me—every lie, every wound, every time Adrian hurt me.
Sweat beads on my palm and the ink starts to blur.
I remember our wedding night, three years ago.
After the guests left, Adrian grabbed our wedding photo off the table and smashed it against the wall. Drunk. Swaying.
Glass exploded. I screamed.
He fell to his knees, clutching his head. His voice cracked.
"Nora, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It wasn't me. It was Dean."
That was the first time I heard the name.
Adrian said he had DID — dissociative identity disorder. He told me there was another person living inside him.
His primary personality, Adrian, was gentle, loving, and devoted to me.
His alter, Dean, was violent, obsessive, and hopelessly fixated on Chloe Parker.
Chloe Parker, my college roommate.
He said Dean couldn't stand that Adrian had married me. That's why Dean destroyed the wedding photo.
"My parents dragged me to every doctor in the country, and none of it did a damn bit of good."
He sobbed into my chest that night, shoulders shaking.
"Dean won't leave. Nora, please. Please don't leave me."
第2章
The front door slams. The house goes dead quiet.
Annie's journal is sitting open on the coffee table, turned to the newest page. Her handwriting fills every line.
Nora, I did the math. From our wedding night to today, he's used "Dean" to lie to you 587 times. That's almost once every two days.
Lie 1: Wedding night. Smashed the photo. He was seeing how much you would tolerate.
Lie 12: First night he didn't come home. Excuse: "Dean forced me to go to Chloe."
Lie 34: Forgot your birthday. Bought Chloe a cake instead. Said Dean bought it.
......
Lie 489: You were in the hospital after your miscarriage. He was at Chloe's birthday party.
And at the bottom, in thick black marker:
Nora. How much longer are you going to do this to yourself?
The journal burns in my hands. I drop it.
Bending to pick it up, I notice the laundry hamper next to the sofa. Adrian's shirt is on top. There's a smudge inside the collar.
Lipstick. Chloe's exact shade.
I drop the shirt in cold water. The lipstick bleeds out into pink threads. Cat hair floats to the surface.
Last week, on my birthday, Adrian gave me a necklace. He was wearing this same shirt that day.
He'd left that morning saying, "Nora, Chloe's cat needs shots, gotta take her to the vet. I'll be back early. Promise."
I'd hesitated. "Aren't you allergic to cats?"
I'd wanted one once, but he wouldn't let me. Said his allergies were severe, and that cats were dirty animals anyway.
"I'm allergic. Dean isn't." His eyes flickered with annoyance.
"Dean loves cats. Stop bringing this up. If Dean gets pissed and lays a hand on you, don't blame me."
He kissed my forehead and walked out.
He didn't come back until late that night. Slipped a velvet box out of his pocket.
"Happy birthday, Nora. Dean wouldn't let me leave for hours. Took every ounce of willpower to get back to you."
His eyes softened. "I spent forever picking this out."
A delicate silver chain with a tiny pendant. I almost cried.
The next morning, Annie had written in the journal:
Nora. The necklace he gave you is the exact same one Chloe was wearing last week.
I pulled the purchase record. He only bought one necklace.
Chloe posted on her Instagram: "The one my guy got me is so ugly. I'd rather have the cash."
She threw it back at him. So he re-wrapped it and gave it to you.
I didn't believe it. Not until I opened Chloe's Instagram.
There she was, throwing up a heart at the camera. That same necklace sitting on her collarbone.
The caption:
Straight men have zero taste. There's just no saving them.
I buried the necklace in the back of a drawer. Never wore it again.
The memory fades, and I find myself staring at Annie's journal again.
Annie's handwriting is still there on the page.
My hands are shaking, my head is pounding, and my legs finally give out.
The last thing I feel is the tile against my cheek.
第3章
When I wake up, I find myself in bed.
Adrian never came home.
There's a fever patch on my forehead, a glass of water on the nightstand, and a note underneath.
Take care of yourself. You already had one dose of fever meds. You'll probably need another when you wake up.
Annie's handwriting.
She's been showing up more and more lately.
Sometimes I'm still conscious, but I'm not the one controlling my body. She is.
I open the drawer for the medicine. That's when I see them.
Two plane tickets to Santorini.
Adrian booked them for our third anniversary. His idea. His chosen dates. I just paid for them.
My phone buzzes. A notification from the company Slack channel.
Q3 Top Salesperson: Chloe Parker 🎉 Prize: 6 nights in Santorini for two.
Before I can even scroll, Adrian's text pops up.
Bring the Santorini tickets to my office. I'm giving them to Chloe. Dean's freaking out, he wants to go with her.
Moments later, I stand outside his office with the tickets crumpled in my fist.
Through the glass, I can see him. He's staring at his phone, grinning at something on the screen.
I walk in and set the tickets down.
He doesn't even look up.
"Leave them there. I'll give them to Chloe later."
I don't move.
"Adrian." My lips barely work.
"We had a deal — third anniversary, Santorini. You told me to book them, you picked the dates."
His hand pauses. He finally looks up. The smile drops off his face.
"Nora, this is a special situation. Chloe crushed her numbers. Company's rewarding her. If I don't go with her, Dean will lose it."
"And after? Will you take me after?"
"There'll be other chances." He slides the tickets into his desk drawer. Smooth, practiced. "When I get back, we'll go."
"Adrian." My voice is shaking.
"Can you come with me to the doctor this afternoon? Just one hour. One hour. That's all I'm asking."
He yanks his tie loose, annoyed. That's when I see it.
His top two buttons are undone. On his collarbone, fresh, still a little purple — a hickey.
The door bursts open behind me.
"Adrian! The client's been waiting in the conference room forever."
Chloe. In a white shirt-dress cut low at the collar. Her heels clicking. Files in her arms.
And on the side of her neck, the exact same hickey.
She sees me. Her expression shifts almost instantly into a sweet, apologetic pout.
"Oh, Nora. Didn't know you were here. Sorry, Adrian, the client's about to walk. You'll lose the account."
Adrian grabs his jacket. "Coming."
"Adrian." I catch his sleeve. "One hour. Please."
He turns. His forehead creases in irritation.
"Nora, stop. Work comes first. If you feel that bad, just grab an Uber. Get some cold meds or whatever. It's not a big deal. Or wait here. I'll take you after the meeting."
He pulls his arm free and walks out with her. Her heels and his shoes tap down the hall together.
Behind them, I hear Chloe's voice drop low:
"Is she faking sick again to keep you close?"
"Shh. Don't."
"I feel so bad for you, Adrian. Just divorce her already. Then we can..."
Their voices fade.
第4章
I wait in his office for what feels like hours.The sun is going down.
Finally, I force myself to stand. I walk down the hallway toward the conference room.
The conference room has glass walls. The blinds aren't fully closed.
Through the gap, I see him.
He has Chloe pinned against the conference table. Papers scattered on the floor.
One of his hands is tangled in her hair, while the other is undoing her buttons. His mouth on her neck.
Her head tips back. Her fingers curl into the collar of his shirt. Her ankle hooks behind his calf, one heel dangling off her foot.
I push the door open. It slams against the wall.
They freeze.
Adrian turns. There's lipstick smeared across his mouth.
Chloe scrambles to button her shirt, another fresh mark shining wet on her neck.
"Nora, you—"
"Adrian." My face feels numb. "Was that Dean too?"
He steps in front of Chloe, shielding her. He wipes his mouth.
His expression flips from panic to weary irritation, like flipping a switch.
"It was Dean, Nora. I was working, and he just took over, I couldn't— Wait. What do you mean 'too'?"
He realizes I'm onto something. He slams his palm on the table.
"I told you about my condition before we got married. You said you didn't care. Now you're going to interrogate me?"
"What is this? You changed your mind? You regret marrying me?"
"You think I'm lying to you, Nora? Why the hell would I fake a mental illness? If I wanted to cheat, I'd just divorce you. What's the point of all this?"
I grip the edge of the table. My knuckles go white.
My head is roaring. The edges of my vision go black. A gray fog rolls in from everywhere at once.
"Adrian." I wipe the corner of my eye. "There's something I never told you."
"I have DID too. My doctor says my primary personality is about to disappear. The Nora who loves you... she's about to die."
The air stops moving.
Chloe laughs. Actually laughs.
"Wait. Wait. Adrian, did you hear that? She says she has it too? She's copying you now?"
Adrian shoots Chloe a warning look as he straightens up, his voice turning flat.
"Nora. You'd invent something this pathetic just to get my attention?"
"It's true. The report is at home. My nightstand drawer."
"Enough." He waves his hand like he's shooing a fly.
"You're being exhausting. I married you because you were reasonable. Now you're acting like every screeching wife in a bad movie."
Chloe twirls a piece of her hair around her finger.
"Nora, sweetie. You have too much time on your hands. Want me to hook you up with a part-time job? Give you something else to think about."
The pain in my chest snaps tight.
Everything blurs.
The last thing I see is their faces melting together, his and hers, twisted, close.
I hear the dull thud when the back of my head hits the corner of the table.
Then nothing.
