Our Wedding Was Ruined and I Found a Husband 38

Morning light crept through the hospital window. Pale. Timid, almost. 

Ava was still asleep–curled like a question mark in her bed. Her breathing came steady, rhythmic, thanks to that oxygen monitor they’d attached last night. 

I’d been awake for hours already. Planted in this god–awful uncomfortable chair beside her, running mental laps through business strategies and contract negotiations that probably didn’t matter anymore. 

One month. That’s all the rope they’d given me before the hanging. 

A knock yanked me from my spiraling thoughts. 

William Chen stepped inside, juggling two coffee cups and a white bakery box. His smile hit me warm and familiar. It settled some of the anxiety gnawing holes in my stomach. 

“Uncle William!” Ava’s eyes flew open. She launched upright so fast I had to grab her shoulder. 

“Easy there, sweetheart. Doctor’s orders, yeah?” But William was already crossing to her bedside, setting down the coffee to accept her enthusiastic tackle–hug. 

“You’re here!” 

“Course I am. Made you a promise, didn’t I?” He pulled back, studying her face. “How’re you feeling today?” 

“Better! The doctors say my heart’s being very brave.” 

William’s eyes found mine over her head. He understood the weight crushing those simple words. 

“Your heart’s definitely brave. Just like your mama.” He handed me one of the coffees. “Vanilla latte. Two sugars.” 

“You didn’t have to-” 

“Yes, I did. You look like hell.” He popped open the bakery box. “Brought chocolate croissants for Ava and those almond things you pretend you don’t love.” 

Ava gasped in absolute delight. “Chocolate croissants! Mama, can I?” 

I checked the time. “After your morning meds. Deal?” 

“Deal!” 

William dropped into the other chair like he owned the place. 

Because he’d done this a hundred times before. 

For three years, he’d been showing up. Bringing breakfast. Making Ava laugh. Giving me someone to lean on when pretending became too exhausting to manage alone. 

Ava chattered between croissant bites about the nice nurses, the funny doctor with the bow tie, another girl 

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down the hall who also had heart problems. 

William listened like every word was gold. 

I watched them together. That easy affection. Comfortable familiarity. 

This was what family actually looked like. 

Not the toxic Harper relatives bleeding me dry. Not the pack that rejected me. 

This. Right here. 

My chest ached–gratitude mixed with something messier, more complicated. 

William had loved Vanessa. The real one. 

They were childhood sweethearts separated by college and career. By the time he came looking for her, she was already dying. 

And I’d been wearing her face like a borrowed coat. 

The memory surfaced sharp. Three years ago. Same hospital, different floor. Me recovering from giving birth while Ava fought for her life in the NICU. 

William had appeared in my doorway. Flowers in hand, face lit up like Christmas morning. 

“Vanessa! I found you! I’ve been looking everywhere- 

He stopped. 

Because I stared at him like he was a stranger. Because I was one. 

“I’m sorry,” I’d said, voice still weak from complications. “I think you have the wrong room.” 

“Very funny, Nessa.” He stepped closer, studying my face. “You look different. But it’s you, right?” 

I should’ve kept up the lie. 

But I’d been exhausted. Terrified. My newborn daughter was fighting for every breath and I was alone. 

So, I broke down. Told him everything. 

The pregnancy. The rejection. Meeting his Vanessa in her final months, her impossible request that I take her place. The identity swap that seemed insane until it somehow worked. 

William stood frozen. Processing. Those flowers fell from his hands. 

“She’s dead?” His voice cracked clean through. “Vanessa’s really dead?” 

“I’m sorry. She passed two weeks ago. The cancer-” 

“And you just took her place? Stole her identity like some con artist?” 

“She asked me to! Her sisters need protection. The company needs someone strong enough to fight her family. She made me promise-” 

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“Who the hell are you?” 

“My name is Laila. I’m nobody. Just someone she met and decided to help for reasons I still don’t understand.” 

William left without another word. 

I thought that was it. That he’d expose me, destroy the fragile new life I was desperately trying to build. 

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