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The Lie Game：My Fiancé Was Sleeping With My Stepsister
Novelix
Completed
"My fiancé denied we’d ever been together. My stepsister had replaced me in every photo, and even my mother said I was losing my mind. For two weeks, I wondered if they were right. Then I overheard the truth: they were filming my breakdown to win my stepsister a photography prize. Jasper thought proposing in public would make me forgive everything. So I went to the awards ceremony. He brought a ring. I brought footage they never knew existed. Before I gave him my answer, I asked everyone to watch what they’d done to me."
Chapters (3)
第1章
At Vivian's welcome-home dinner, someone suggests we play a game called “Whose Lie Is the Wildest?”
To win, I point at my fiancé, Jasper, and my younger stepsister, Vivian.
“Okay, real talk. Those two have slept together.”
The whole table freezes, then bursts out laughing.
“Gardi, you already lost. Jasper and Viv have been dating for years. Of course they’re sleeping together.”
I roll my eyes.
Whatever. Just a stupid party joke.
But that night, when I get back to our family's apartment, all my things are gone.
My toothbrush, my skincare, even my robe on the bathroom hook are all replaced with Vivian's.
The framed photo on the wall, the one where I'm leaning on Jasper's shoulder, now shows her leaning on him.
Same pose. Same smile. Different girl.
For the next two weeks, they're glued to each other.
Jasper treats me like his girlfriend's slightly annoying stepsister: polite and distant.
I can't wrap my head around it.
I scroll through every photo on my phone, text every mutual friend we have, and drive to every restaurant, park, and hotel Jasper and I ever went to.
Nothing.
Not a single trace that Jasper and I were ever a thing.
My parents look at me like I've lost my mind.
“Sweetie, Jasper is Viv's boyfriend. They've been together for years. You know that.”
I start to wonder if I'm the one losing it.
The day of my psychiatrist appointment, I come home and hear laughter through the door.
Vivian, giddy: “Ha! The way she went from dismissive to suspicious to a full-on breakdown is unreal! I’m gonna take first place in the National Photography Prize with this.”
Then my mom, softer: “She's lost weight, Viv. Maybe we should just tell her now.”
Then Jasper, laughing: “Nah. Wait till the exhibit. I'll propose in front of everyone. She'll forget the whole thing the second I go down on one knee.”
So that's what this is.
The game wasn't a game. It was all for Vivian's photography project.
Fine. Then I'm not playing anymore.
...
Inside, the laughter keeps rolling.
Vivian slaps Jasper's shoulder. "I knew you'd come through for me, babe."
"You sure she'll go to the psychiatrist today?"
Mom snorts. "Please. Jasper's got it handled. You'll get the reaction you want."
"Thanks, Mom!"
I always knew Mom liked Vivian more than me, always comparing us and propping her up while cutting me down.
I just never thought she'd use her own daughter as a stepping stone.
My fingers shake as I enter the code.
The pad flashes red. Access Denied.
Inside, there's dead silence.
The door swings open, and my stepdad, Richard, is there, pretending to be worried about me.
"Gardi, you're home."
He hands me my slippers.
"Sweetheart, this delusion of yours has gone on long enough. You really need to see someone."
"He's right, Gardi." Vivian glides up beside me, and I catch the tiny red light blinking through her pocket.
She's filming. Of course she's filming.
I shake my head. "I don't need to."
I reach for a glass of cold water on the counter.
Jasper steps in front of me and presses a mug of hot tea into my hand.
The mug warms my palms, and for a second, I let myself believe he still cares.
During our first month together, I had cramps so bad I was doubled over, sweating through my shirt.
Jasper was frantic. He couldn't cook to save his life, but he made me soup from scratch, spilling half of it and burning his hand on the pot.
When it actually helped, he pulled me into his arms and let out this shaky breath.
"I'm gonna take better care of you. Next time you feel like this, let me help."
And for five years, he always made sure I had something warm to drink when I wasn’t feeling well.
"Viv said you weren't feeling well."
My throat tightens. I force a nod and look up to find Vivian watching me, her eyes bright.
Right. The tea isn't kindness. It's bait.
They need to film me going from touched to gutted in real time.
"Just get checked out, honey…" Mom dabs at her eye. "For me. Please."
She loops her arm through mine and pulls me out the door, straight into the car.
The whole drive, Jasper and Vivian sit up front with their fingers laced, whispering and giggling, until at some point Vivian twists around in her seat.
"Gardi, remember when Jasper brought me gardenias and told me he loved me? God, he was such an idiot. He knew I loved roses, but he brought me gardenias anyway."
She watches my face like a hawk.
I'm the one who loves gardenias. He brought those flowers to me, and I was the one he said he loved.
My name is literally Gardenia.
Any other day, I'd be crying. Today I just paste on a smile.
"Really? Aww. You guys are so cute."
The car jerks to a stop. Jasper turns around and studies my face. "Gardi… you okay?"
"I'm fine." I point out the window. "Aren't we here?"
The doctor is thorough, running a few tests, asking some questions, and finally leaning back.
"Ms. Carter, you're just anxious. There's nothing wrong with you psychologically."
Vivian's smile cracks.
"That can't be right. She keeps telling everyone my boyfriend is her fiancé."
She elbows Jasper, and he immediately pulls out his phone.
"Doctor, are you sure? She's been sending me stuff like this every day."
On his screen is every desperate text I sent him over the past two weeks.
[Jasper, I don't know if you're crazy or I am. You're my boyfriend. Why won't you admit it?]
[Why are all our photos suddenly of you and Viv? When did you swap them?]
[Today's your birthday. Last year you said you wanted to go back to the hotel where we first—]
The doctor scans the messages. His expression shifts, then hardens.
"Ms. Carter, this could be a delusional episode. But more likely, it's a boundary issue."
Nurses drift in and out, eyeing me like I'm the other woman caught red-handed.
Someone whispers, "The actual girlfriend brought her boyfriend's mistress in for treatment? You can't make this up."
"These homewreckers really will say anything to steal a man."
It gets louder. Uglier.
My face burns, and my hands won't stop shaking.
I look at Jasper, desperate, and catch Vivian grinning at him, flashing an OK sign behind his back.
第2章
So they dragged me here in front of all these people just so Vivian could get more footage.
I take a slow breath and look the doctor dead in the eye.
"You're right. I was delusional. But I'm wide awake now."
I stand up, leave those two sitting there, and walk straight out.
I find an empty corner of the waiting area and pull up the National Photography Prize on my phone.
Vivian's entry pops up first. It's called *Real*.
The cover photo is me. My face, mid-breakdown.
"Gardi." Jasper's voice behind me. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere."
I look up at him with a tight smile.
"You're Vivian's boyfriend. What do you want with me?"
His face stiffens, and he drops his gaze for a second. Guilt, maybe. "Gardi, are you mad? Showing the doctor those texts, that was for your own good—"
"Sure." I nod. "Hey, my phone's dead. Can I borrow yours?"
I hold out my hand like nothing's changed between us.
He exhales, relieved, and hands it over.
I unlock it on the first try. Muscle memory.
I open every social app one by one, delete my account from his contacts, and block, unfriend, and wipe everything.
Then I hand the phone back.
"Well, this appointment cleared things up. I won't bother you and Vivian again. Wish you both the best."
His eyes drop to the screen. His face goes white.
"Gardenia!"
"What are you two doing?"
Vivian comes running around the corner, sees his phone in my hand, and her face drops.
"Gardenia, why the hell are you touching my boyfriend's phone? Get some self-respect. Stop using your little 'condition' as an excuse to cross every line."
I let out a cold laugh.
Right. Boundaries. When exactly did they stop having any?
I think back.
Jasper and I had been together for two years when Vivian got sick and I asked him to drive her to the ER.
That's where they swapped numbers. She insisted on taking him to dinner to say thanks.
After that, she somehow ended up on every date, at every dinner, and on every weekend trip Jasper and I took.
Jasper started remembering her favorite drink, her birthday, even her allergies.
I asked them both about it more than once. They always had the same excuse.
Jasper: I'm only nice to her because she's your stepsister.
Vivian: I'd never even talk to that guy if he weren't your boyfriend.
I believed them. Both of them. For years.
Now, watching Vivian panic over his phone like she's about to lose everything, I get it. That drunken party joke wasn't a joke. "Jasper and Viv have been together for years" was true.
Behind my back, my fiancé and my stepsister had been together for God knows how long.
It's almost funny.
I swallow a bitter laugh. "You've got the wrong idea. I was just—"
"Wrong idea? Seriously?"
Jasper snaps. He yanks the phone out of my hand so hard I stumble.
"How many times do I have to say it? I'm not your fiancé. I'm Vivian's boyfriend. Leave Viv out of this."
"Stay away from us. Stop wrecking our lives."
He shoves me hard enough that my knees hit the floor.
I know this is another setup, another shot for her camera. It doesn't stop the chill running down my spine.
People are stopping, whispering, and pointing.
I force myself upright, ignore the throb in my knee, and raise my voice so the whole hallway can hear.
"Your boyfriend is the one crossing lines—"
Before I can finish, Vivian tenses. Jasper shoots her a reassuring look, then says, "Oh, shoot," and something small hits the tile.
A dog tag. Skidding across the floor.
Etched into the metal: BUDDY.
I lunge for it, grab it, and scramble up.
"Where the hell did you get this?"
Buddy is my dog. I brought him home from my grandparents' farm when I was little.
Mom left me with my grandparents in rural Ohio while she worked in the city.
They were old and set in their ways. Most days I might as well have been invisible.
Only Buddy followed me around the yard. Buddy found me when I got lost in the cornfield.
When my older cousin snatched my toys, Buddy would sneak into his room and drag them back to me, one by one.
When my mom finally came for me, I wouldn't let go of him, wouldn't budge, and wouldn't stop crying. They had to bring him too.
I made that tag myself the summer we moved to the city, copying the store-bought ones the kids down the block had.
When he sees the panic on my face, Jasper exchanges a smug look with Vivian.
"Don't overthink it. Your parents had no choice."
I grab his collar. My voice rises.
"Just tell me. What did they do to Buddy?"
He presses his lips together and puts on that pained, sorry look.
Finally, he says, "Come on. Let's go home. Your mom's making soup."
第3章
I let go of his collar, shove him away, and run.
When we first moved to the city, none of the kids would play with me.
They made fun of my clothes and called me a hick.
Vivian was the only one who'd sit next to me at lunch.
For years, I thought she cared about me like a sister.
I never thought one stupid photo contest would cost me my stepsister, my fiancé, and my dog.
Behind me, Vivian's voice drifts up, low and giddy.
"Thank God you were there. Her reaction in the exam room was way too flat. And just now, she barely even panicked—"
Something clicks.
Every other time I've come home, Buddy starts barking the second I hit the hallway.
Earlier today, I stood outside that door for a full minute. Nothing. Just their voices.
And when I walked in, Buddy didn't come running. No paws skidding on hardwood, no golden hair on the couch cushions.
I run the last two blocks and burst through the front door.
The soup pot is already on the table, its lid half off, with bones poking out of the steaming broth.
The tears come before I can stop them.
My hand shakes as I reach for the lid, and a blur of fur shoots out from behind the couch and latches onto my pant leg.
"Buddy!"
I drop to my knees, grab him, and sob into his back.
He's okay. Oh God, he's okay.
Then something clamps down on my shoulder.
Pain rips through me, and I shove him off on instinct.
The dog snarls. Teeth bared. Eyes wild.
That's not Buddy.
That's Tommy. Vivian's dog.
"Mom." My voice is barely there. "Where's Buddy?"
Mom won't meet my eyes.
"Vivian's got the engagement party coming up. She can't watch Tommy. He's staying with us for a few days."
"Mom, I asked you where Buddy is."
She goes quiet, and her eyes flick to the pot.
I feel sick.
Then Richard strolls in from the kitchen. "Oh, Buddy? Yeah, that dog got aggressive. Bit Tommy the second Vivian brought him over. Took me forever to get him out the door."
Buddy has never bitten another dog in his life.
And if you were just going to lock him outside, why take off his tag first?
I stare at them, my own mom and stepdad, and finally say it.
"You threw him out, didn't you?"
They glance at each other. Silence.
"Why?" I'm shouting now. "You couldn't even let him stay?"
I turn to Mom. "I'm your daughter. How could you do this to me?"
Mom slaps me hard enough to leave my cheek burning.
"We put a roof over your head, and this is how you repay us? Screaming at us over a dog? You ungrateful little brat."
I stare at her, cheek stinging, blood pounding.
"You knew what Buddy meant to me. And you all used him against me. Fine, I get that you love Vivian more than me. So her dog gets to stay, and mine gets thrown out?"
"Don't you dare talk back to me!"
Mom raises her hand again.
Richard steps between us.
"Gardi. Come on. Don't act like we're the only ones at fault here."
"Vivian treats your mom like her own mother. She hugs us. You barely speak to either of us. You just lock yourself in that bedroom doing God knows what."
"Viv's sweet, she's gorgeous, she's got real talent. And you? What do you even have going for you?"
I stop.
Vivian is sweet when she wants something.
And those clothes and all that makeup they keep admiring? Jasper's been paying for them for three years.
And talented? Talented at photography? That's the punchline.
I taught myself photography in that room they always complain about me hiding in. It was the only thing that ever made me feel like a person.
Vivian saw my shots, begged me to teach her, then sweet-talked me into handing over my whole camera setup.
I look at Mom, waiting for her to defend me. She says nothing.
I should’ve known. Whatever Vivian does, Mom thinks it’s wonderful.
I give a bitter smile.
“So photography’s impressive now? Fine. Then I’ll show you what I can do—”
