Trading A Fake Marriage For A Real Vow

The insurance agent spoke plainly over the phone. "Ms. Jones, our records show you are not Mr. Davies' wife. I'm afraid we can't handle the claim since you are not listed as his spouse."

Helena Jones had gotten into a car accident on her drive to Bryson Davies' company that day.

A Mercedes slammed into her from behind. The other driver, knowing the stretch of road had no surveillance cameras, flipped the story and boldly demanded one hundred thousand dollars to settle privately.

Bryson's line remained unreachable no matter how many times she tried. Helena pressed her mouth tight, then dialed the insurance company as her only option.

She and Bryson got married two years ago. And the car belonged to him. Filing a claim should have been easy.

For a second, Helena wondered if she had misheard the person from the other end of the line.

"Could there be a mistake in your records?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

"The system is accurate. It lists Mr. Davies' legal wife as a woman named Charlee Jones. Not you," the agent replied, a trace of impatience creeping into his tone.

Helena's grip went slack at that. The phone slipped from her fingers and hit the ground.

The line cut off on its own.

An icy sensation climbed from her feet. Her face drained of color, as if someone had struck her.

Charlee.

That name was too familiar to her.

Helena's and Bryson's families had arranged their engagement back when they were just kids. When she boarded her flight for overseas studies, Bryson had slipped past security, dashed along the runway beside the accelerating plane, and called out loudly that he would wait until she came back, no matter how long it took.

Over those three years away, he had made the long trip to see her every time his schedule opened up.

Right after getting her degree, she hurried home full of excitement to give him a surprise.

She turned the handle of his office door to open it, only to see a woman with a gentle, innocent face resting on his lap, her cheeks warm with shyness, while she let him kiss her deeply without pulling away.

Once the kiss ended, Bryson's look hardened into something distant and closed off. "Only because you carry a slight resemblance to her that I allowed you near me."

That woman turned out to be Charlee.

She had grown up as the adopted daughter in the Jones family, making her Helena's adopted younger sister.

When the affair was exposed, Bryson flipped to frantic apologies, begging Helena to forgive him with the kind of desperation that looked ready to bring him to his knees.

He kept repeating that Charlee meant nothing more than a temporary substitute for her, insisting he never crossed the line with Charlee.

Everything she had seen that day, he chalked up completely to being far too drunk.

Back then, Helena refused to accept even the smallest hint of dishonesty, so she