Paper Promise: The Substitute Bride - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

I knew James’ routine with the precision of a Swiss watch. I was in charge of driving his car every morning and cleaning his shoes, so I knew every morning gesture timed to the minute, and that morning, his lateness screamed like a silent alarm. The empty seat at the table awaited him.
Mrs. Catherine was having her tea alone, but I could hear her muttering to the servers about the food.
“Dear Laura, come and have breakfast with me; I hate eating alone.”
“Good morning,” I replied courteously.
The invitation was cordial, but she said every syllable with sarcasm, her eyes fixed on the stairs leading up to James’ room. Her old hands, covered in expensive rings, drummed impatiently on the linen tablecloth.
“Laura, did you sleep well? It seemed like a... noisy night.”
I took a deep breath before answering.
“Actually, not much; I had insomnia.”
“That’s too bad. Insomnia is terrible for the skin, you know. And you already have such pronounced dark circles under your eyes.”
I didn’t answer, I just put my head down and ate some eggs and drank an orange juice, feeling the embarrassment take hold of me.
Everyone in the mansion knew that my husband’s secretary was still in the room; the laughter and loud music went on all night, but no one dared say a word.
“James is late,” she said, looking at the food on her plate.
“He was very late last night,” I replied.
“I thought after the wedding he’d stop his nightlife.”
Just then, James and his secretary came down the stairs. My eyes quickly scanned her body, a tight navy blue dress, different from the lush black of the night before. The realization hit me like a slap: she kept a closet in his room. It wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last.
“Good morning, Mrs. Catherine,” she bent down to kiss my mother-in-law, “you look very beautiful today.”
James sat down at the table without saying a word, but I could feel his eyes on me. At that moment, I remembered the day we signed the contract. He had promised it would just be a formality, an agreement. But it wasn’t what I felt now, with the bitter taste of orange juice mixed with the lump in my throat.
“James, darling,” Catherine smiled with false sweetness, “you missed the nine o’clock meeting.”
“I canceled some appointments this morning,” he replied dryly, reaching for a glass of water.
The woman sat down next to me, so close that our elbows were almost touching. Her smile was too wide, too bright, like a spotlight aimed at my humiliation.
“Your name is Laura, isn’t it? James introduced us that day in the office, but I’ve forgotten.”
“No problem,” I replied, each word a small exercise in self-control."I don’t know your name either."
“Emily, my name is Emily and I’m sorry I woke you up last night. James was very excited.”
He wasn’t my real husband, our agreement was just a contract signed with face paint, but a visceral irritation grew inside me as I watched that woman with excessive perfume and vulgar confidence sitting next to me, occupying a space that, at least in social appearance, should be exclusively mine.
Catherine smoothly said, “James, tonight’s the Hamilton Foundation charity dinner.” I hope you haven’t forgotten?”
James took a sip of coffee before replying with his usual indifference.
“Yes, I forgot. I have other priorities, Mom.”
A tense silence hung for three seconds; I told each of them. Catherine turned her clinical gaze on me, examining me from top to bottom like a jewelry appraiser in front of a suspicious piece.
“Laura, one maid told me that you have very few clothes in your closet; I hope you have something suitable to wear,” she declared, the concern in her voice only superficially masking judgment.
Emily held her debauched laughter behind her coffee cup, her eyes shining with barely concealed satisfaction. Her fingers, adorned with a ring far too expensive for its nominal position, drummed lightly against the porcelain.
“If you want,” Emily offered, leaning towards me with false intimacy, “I can lend you one of my dresses. James gave me dozens. All designer.”
She emphasized his name with a familiarity that felt like a mark of ownership.
I straightened my spine, feeling every vertebra line up in a posture my aunt would call “aristocratic” - the only heritage left from my bankrupt family.
“That’s very kind of you,” I replied with icy calm, my lips curving into what could only technically be called a smile, “but it’s not necessary.”
“Are you sure? They’re from exclusive designers.”
Catherine interrupted the conversation authoritatively.
“I’m waiting for my personal stylist; he’ll help you. You need to look impeccable tonight; this dinner is very important for our family.”
I brought the glass of juice to my lips, trying to disguise the almost imperceptible tremor in my hands.
“What do you do for a living?” Emily asked interestedly.
I took a deep breath before answering, keeping my tone neutral.
“I used to work in a bookshop, but now I just drive James’ car every morning.”
“What college did you go to?” she insisted.
It was then that I felt the weight of James’ gaze. Slowly, I raised my eyes and met his, blue and impenetrable, fixed on me as if trying to decipher something I didn’t understand myself. A shiver ran down my spine, cold and inevitable, as if those eyes could see beyond the mask I was trying to maintain.
“Come on, Emily, I’m really late,” he said, pushing the cup away.
"But honey, you haven't touched anything," Catherine gently scolded him, gesturing toward the breakfast that remained untouched on his plate.
"My stomach is churning," he murmured, avoiding her gaze.
"I'll get the car keys," I said, rising hastily from the table.
"I'm driving today," he declared, his voice sharp as glass.
James paused, turning slowly toward me. His gaze carried neither anger nor pity—something infinitely more devastating: complete indifference.
"I need privacy today."
The words fell like a blade between us, and I felt myself shrink, too small to challenge him. The words I wanted to say died in my throat before they could even form.
"See you later, Laura. Catch you around," Emily said goodbye, a dangerous smile dancing on her lips. Her promise hung in the air like a thinly veiled threat.