My Stand-In Husband

Novelix Completed
追妻火葬场、追悔莫及、打脸、背叛、出轨、聪明的、恶魔丈夫、大女主、女性力量/大女主、剧情/戏剧、现代/都市、现代

Vivian Cole discovers on her wedding night that her husband Ethan has been replaced by his twin brother Evan. For three years, she plays along, knowing Evan is the one holding her through her skin hunger episodes, while the real Ethan lives with another woman. When Vivian becomes pregnant, the Blackwood family conspires to replace her child with Ethan's mistress's baby. At a public gala, Vivian exposes the deception and demands a divorce. As Walter Blackwood schemes to protect family assets, Evan risks everything to protect Vivian and their unborn child, leading to a final confrontation that frees them both from years of lies.

Chapters (3)

第1章

I have skin hunger. Three years into my marriage, only Ethan's arms could get me to sleep. The day I tested positive, I stood outside the study and heard him on the phone— "Bro, I've been living as you for three years. Now there's a problem." "She's pregnant with my child. When are you coming back?" The voice on the other end was identical. "Pregnant? Get rid of it. Keep your cover." "She can't live without me. I'll smooth things over when I'm back." The truth is, I'd known since the wedding night. The man who married me was Evan Blackwood, not Ethan. Because he had a mole behind his ear. Ethan didn't. I smiled at the study door. You two want to put on a show? Fine. Let's take it all the way to the final act. Inside the study, Ethan's voice came low and unhurried. "From the marriage license to everyone else's eyes, she's my wife." "You promised to look after her for me. You should've seen this coming." Evan's voice snapped back. "I agreed to cover for a while. Not three years!" "And yet you never stopped." The study went quiet. After a long beat, Evan said hoarsely, "She's not an object." The voice on the phone laughed. "The baby's a problem. Deal with it first." "Keep playing Ethan. Don't let her find out who you are." I didn't cry. I turned and walked back to the bedroom. Because I'd known for three years. I'm a designer trained in ergonomics. Ethan and Evan are identical twins, but even identical twins have their tells. That wedding night, the room was dim, my condition was flaring, and I pressed instinctively into my "husband's" arms. My hand grazed the back of his neck and found a small raised bump. A mole. Ethan didn't have one. I'd been in love with him since I was sixteen—enough to pick him out of a crowd from the shape of his shoulders alone. I knew he was a playboy. I knew the marriage was a business arrangement. I married him anyway. But the man who walked into my room on our wedding night wasn't him. It wasn't that I never considered exposing the switch. But my condition needed stability. Intimacy. And the man wearing his identity was just as useful to me. Footsteps followed not long after. He came to the bedside and looked down at me. "Vivian, why aren't you asleep?" Evan. The man who'd just confessed in the study that he was an impostor. The second he stepped into this room, he was still playing my husband. I said quietly, "I don't feel well." His expression tightened. He crouched down. "Where? I'll call the doctor." I looked at him and asked, "Will you always stay with me?" His pupils flinched. Then he pulled me into his arms. "Yes." I leaned into his shoulder, breathing in the cedar scent I'd known for three years. The private doctor arrived not long after. Evan took a work call and stepped into the study. The doctor set down his stethoscope and said lightly, "Mrs. Cole, the hormonal changes from your pregnancy are working in your favor." "Your episodes are already dropping in frequency and intensity. If this holds, you may recover completely." My pulse jumped. "Close to recovery?" "That's right." "Eventually, you'll be able to sleep without a partner's reassurance." I laid my hand slowly over my lower belly. "So if I want to taper off my dependence, that's possible?" He paused. "Yes, but it has to be gradual." "Good. I'll cooperate." I opened my laptop and messaged a private investigator to trace Ethan's actual whereabouts over the past three years. An hour later, the report came back: "Ethan is living in a high-end apartment in another city. A woman is with him." "According to the investigation, they present themselves publicly as husband and wife." So my real husband had been out there all along, playing house with another woman. To protect the alliance, he'd sent his own brother to take his place. I laid my hand over my flat belly. "I'll protect you." No one answered. Only the wind outside the window. The next morning, I stood by the bed seeing Evan off. He was fixing his tie when he turned back to look at me. "Work's been a mess lately. I'll try to get home early tonight." I nodded lightly. "Drive safe." His throat worked. "Vivian, if anything happens, promise you'll tell me first." "I will." I watched the car disappear through the estate gates, then went to my studio and buried myself in design work I'd been putting off for too long. All day, I kept my hands busy—blueprints, color swatches, ergonomic sketches—and my mind deliberately blank. By nightfall, I was on the living room sofa sorting project contracts. My phone buzzed. The investigator: "Ethan has left the apartment. Current whereabouts unknown." Almost the same second, the door lock clicked. Footsteps, very soft. My heart seized. A man stepped into the living room. "Still up?" The voice was indistinguishable. I turned slowly toward the face in the doorway—identical to my "husband's." One look, and I knew. This time, the man who'd come home was the real Ethan.

第2章

He had his suit jacket draped over one arm. His tone was easy. "Still up this late? Waiting for me?" I closed my sketchbook. "Got caught up drawing. Lost track of time." He walked over and bent to embrace me. I didn't pull away. I leaned into him. But the second we touched, I was sure. They were not the same. Ethan wore cologne—violet notes. The man who'd spent three years with me wore cedar. I buried my face in his chest. "You feel different today." His arms tightened. "Different how?" I looked up at him. "I can't put my finger on it. Just a feeling." His gaze flickered. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Probably the new cologne. You're so sensitive these days." I gave a small smile. "The doctor says it's the pregnancy. Mood swings." At the word pregnancy, something cracked across his face, then smoothed over. "Have some supper with me?" The table was set. The butler ladled soup for him. He took it with his left hand. I stared at that hand. For three years—signing papers, raising a glass, cutting steak—Evan had always used his right. I speared a piece of steak. The moment it neared my mouth, nausea rolled through me. I covered my mouth and turned away, dry-heaving. Ethan moved fast to steady me. "Are you all right? I'll call the doctor." I sipped some water and nodded. The doctor came, but not the usual private physician. He adjusted his glasses. "The pregnancy is currently unstable. Hormonal markers are fluctuating." "My recommendation is to terminate as soon as possible. It would be better for the mother's recovery." I let my face crumple into panic and grief. "My baby... please, there has to be a way. Save him." Ethan pulled me against him and rubbed my back. "It's all right. We're still young. There will be other chances." I shoved him away. "No. No one touches my child." Not Ethan. Not Evan. No one touches my child. The living room went quiet. After a long pause, Ethan said, "Fine. Then we do everything we can to keep this baby." That night ended badly. I sent him to the guest room and slept alone until morning. The next day, the estate phone rang. Ethan answered, then turned to me. "Grandfather's pushing. He wants us back there tomorrow." I looked up, voice light. "Perfect. We can tell the family about the pregnancy while we're there." He hesitated. "Not yet." "Why not?" "The first three months are fragile. We'll tell them once it's stable." He didn't look at me when he said it. I nodded. "Fine. We'll wait." I didn't believe him. The harder he pushed it down, the more obvious it was that this baby upended everything he'd planned. That night, I lay on my back, eyes closed. The mattress dipped. Ethan lay down beside me. His arm reached over, trying to pull me into him. When I shifted away, he asked quietly, "Don't you need to be held to fall asleep?" I turned my back to him. "I'm afraid of pressing on the baby. I should start adjusting." His hand hung in the air a moment, then withdrew. It was the first time in three years I'd fallen asleep alone, without being held. When I woke, the other side of the bed was empty. The housekeeper met me in the hallway. "Ma'am, Mr. Blackwood is waiting in the garage. We can leave for the estate whenever you're ready." The moment I reached the garage and saw the figure leaning against the black sedan, my steps faltered. Evan. He opened the rear door for me. "Vivian, let's go." I got in without a flicker of expression. At the estate, as I stepped out, I caught sight of another car pulling up at the entrance. Ethan climbed out. And beside him—a woman. Evan murmured near my ear, "That's the youngest Holt daughter. She's been in talks with the Blackwoods about a potential match." A match. So that was why Ethan wanted to swap identities. He was in love with his brother's would-be fiancée, but he couldn't stomach losing the Cole family's influence. The second Ethan's eyes met mine— I rose on my toes, hooked my arm around Evan's neck, and kissed his cheek. A beat later, I released him and curved my lips into a smile. "Come on. Grandfather's waiting."

第3章

Ethan strode over. "Vivian, in public? That's hardly appropriate." A pause. Then he added, "And not exactly dignified." I leaned half a step closer to Evan. "You don't mind, do you?" Evan studied me for two seconds. "Let's go inside. Grandfather's waiting." I took his arm. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan's hand curl into a fist at his side. Inside the main hall, Walter sat in the seat of honor. Beside him, Ethan's mother, Helen. They both brightened when they saw me. "Vivian, there you are. Come sit." Helen waved me over and took my hand. "You've lost weight again, haven't you? You look pale. Working too hard?" I smiled and shook my head. "I'm fine, Mom. Probably just the change of seasons. My appetite's been off." Walter set down his coffee cup. "Ethan, you and Vivian have been married three years. Certain things need to move forward." He was circumspect, but the meaning was clear. The Blackwood bloodline needed an heir. Helen picked up the thread. "Vivian, you two are busy, but your health matters too." "If anything feels off, you must tell me. I know some excellent OB-GYN specialists..." I lowered my eyes and smiled. "That depends on Ethan." All eyes shifted to the man wearing Ethan's identity—Evan. His expression didn't waver. "Mom, Grandfather—Vivian and I are already working on it. Don't worry." That evening, the estate kept us for dinner. Through the meal, Evan served me food and deboned my fish, attentive in every detail. Ethan looked like he could barely choke down his own dinner. Late that night, I changed into my nightgown. Evan wasn't in the room. He was on the balcony, a cigarette burning between his fingers. I pulled on a robe and pushed open the door. "Bad mood?" He turned at the sound. "Why are you out here? It's cold." I went to stand beside him. "You're not in bed. I can't sleep." He crushed the cigarette against the railing. After a beat, he reached out and drew me to him. "Vivian, you've been quiet today." He looked down at me. His eyes weren't like Ethan's. Ethan looked at me like I was a belonging. Something he owned. I pressed my face to his chest. "I'm fine. Just tired." He suddenly tightened his arms, chin resting on top of my head. "Did you notice something today?" I stiffened. He was perceptive—maybe he'd already caught a trace of it. I tilted my face up. "Notice what?" "You're acting cagey. Did you do something behind my back?" He studied me for a long moment. In the end, he just smiled faintly. "What could I possibly do behind your back? Don't overthink it." I didn't push. Back in bed, Evan fell asleep quickly. I lay awake. And the gnawing restlessness under my skin rose without warning— My skin hunger was flaring again. I reached for him, but my fingers stopped a breath away from his arm and pulled back. I didn't want to touch him. Even though he was Evan. Even though he was the man I'd spent three years with. He was a piece of the deception. A willing accomplice. I curled into a ball and bit my lip, riding out wave after wave of the itch and unease. At three in the morning, as I fought to steady my breathing, I heard a faint sound behind me. Evan's phone lit up. He grabbed it and slipped out to the terrace, the door left ajar. On the other end: Ethan's cool, clipped voice. "That child can't stay." "But we can't force it. She has to believe her body failed on its own." "Keep her calm. When it happens, we'll say we adopted." "Then I'll bring Serena's baby over." I closed my eyes. My heart turned cold, inch by inch. "Unstable pregnancy" was just an excuse. He'd planned it from the start. He was going to replace my child with his mistress's. When Evan came back, I lay on my side, breathing evenly. He bent and adjusted the blanket over me—so gently. My eyes stayed shut. My nails dug into my palms. My child. I would personally carve out a path for him to live.

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