The Other Woman in His Shadows - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading The Other Woman in His Shadows, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of The Other Woman in His Shadows.
"Alright, if you say so, I'll take your word for it." Shairine flashed me a smile.
"Zoey, you're kind, you're beautiful, and if it weren't for Jason, I think we could've been really good friends."
Even after she walked away, her words lingered in my mind like an echo I couldn't shake.
In my past life, the day before Jason and I were supposed to get married, she had shown up unannounced. She'd thrown every memory she'd ever shared with him in my face, then delivered the final blow: "Jason's only marrying you out of obligation. He'll never love you. Call it off—it'll save you more heartache than you know."
Back then, I'd brushed her off, convinced Jason loved me. I'd been so sure marriage would finally give me the happiness I'd been chasing.
But reality had a way of humbling me.
As my fever raged, fragments of memories—some from this life, some from the last—flashed through my mind like a disjointed film reel. When I finally woke up, drenched in sweat, I sat still for a moment, gathering my strength before dragging myself to the shower.
By the time I got back, my phone was still glowing on the nightstand.
Ten missed calls—all from Jason.
I didn't call back. Instead, I shot Yves a text: "Hey, something came up. I'm heading home tomorrow, so I won't be riding back with you guys."
We'd planned to stay three days. I left after one.
It was early when I slipped out, and aside from Yves, no one even noticed. Five hours on a bus later, I was home. Before I could even unpack, my mom called.
"I heard you're finally open to dating. There's this lovely young man I've had my eye on—steady job, good-looking, just two years older. You should meet him when you're free."
Ever since college, she'd been nudging me toward relationships, but I'd always shut her down. They all assumed I wasn't interested in romance. They had no idea I'd been with Jason for years.
"Sure, set it up. Just let me know when and where," I said without hesitation.
She practically gasped. "You agreed just like that? Did something happen?"
I let out a dry laugh. "What could've happened? I trust you. You're my mom—you wouldn't steer me wrong, right?"
"Of course not! Just wait—I'll make sure it's perfect!" she chirped before hanging up.
Then, I threw myself into work.
In my past life, I'd given up everything for marriage. Ignoring all the warnings, I'd quit my job to play housewife, throwing away a major promotion in the process.
I'd thought sacrificing my career for love would be worth it. Instead, I'd wasted my life.
Not this time.
I turned off my phone and buried myself in deadlines until my eyes burned. By the time I surfaced, it was already 9 PM. Exhausted, I crashed without bothering to turn my phone back on.
The next morning, as I grabbed my bag to leave, I swung open the door—and there stood Jason.
He was still in the same black coat from yesterday, his hair slightly messy, exhaustion carved into his face. Like he'd rushed here without stopping.
"Jason, do you need something?"
"Why didn't you answer your phone?"
We spoke at the same time.
His tone was sharp, almost accusing. I steadied myself and forced a calm smile. "My phone was off. Didn't realize. Did you need something?"
My voice was cool, detached.
"Zoey," he said, frustration bleeding into his words, "can you stop talking to me like this? Since when did we become strangers?"
"Zoey, you're kind, you're beautiful, and if it weren't for Jason, I think we could've been really good friends."
Even after she walked away, her words lingered in my mind like an echo I couldn't shake.
In my past life, the day before Jason and I were supposed to get married, she had shown up unannounced. She'd thrown every memory she'd ever shared with him in my face, then delivered the final blow: "Jason's only marrying you out of obligation. He'll never love you. Call it off—it'll save you more heartache than you know."
Back then, I'd brushed her off, convinced Jason loved me. I'd been so sure marriage would finally give me the happiness I'd been chasing.
But reality had a way of humbling me.
As my fever raged, fragments of memories—some from this life, some from the last—flashed through my mind like a disjointed film reel. When I finally woke up, drenched in sweat, I sat still for a moment, gathering my strength before dragging myself to the shower.
By the time I got back, my phone was still glowing on the nightstand.
Ten missed calls—all from Jason.
I didn't call back. Instead, I shot Yves a text: "Hey, something came up. I'm heading home tomorrow, so I won't be riding back with you guys."
We'd planned to stay three days. I left after one.
It was early when I slipped out, and aside from Yves, no one even noticed. Five hours on a bus later, I was home. Before I could even unpack, my mom called.
"I heard you're finally open to dating. There's this lovely young man I've had my eye on—steady job, good-looking, just two years older. You should meet him when you're free."
Ever since college, she'd been nudging me toward relationships, but I'd always shut her down. They all assumed I wasn't interested in romance. They had no idea I'd been with Jason for years.
"Sure, set it up. Just let me know when and where," I said without hesitation.
She practically gasped. "You agreed just like that? Did something happen?"
I let out a dry laugh. "What could've happened? I trust you. You're my mom—you wouldn't steer me wrong, right?"
"Of course not! Just wait—I'll make sure it's perfect!" she chirped before hanging up.
Then, I threw myself into work.
In my past life, I'd given up everything for marriage. Ignoring all the warnings, I'd quit my job to play housewife, throwing away a major promotion in the process.
I'd thought sacrificing my career for love would be worth it. Instead, I'd wasted my life.
Not this time.
I turned off my phone and buried myself in deadlines until my eyes burned. By the time I surfaced, it was already 9 PM. Exhausted, I crashed without bothering to turn my phone back on.
The next morning, as I grabbed my bag to leave, I swung open the door—and there stood Jason.
He was still in the same black coat from yesterday, his hair slightly messy, exhaustion carved into his face. Like he'd rushed here without stopping.
"Jason, do you need something?"
"Why didn't you answer your phone?"
We spoke at the same time.
His tone was sharp, almost accusing. I steadied myself and forced a calm smile. "My phone was off. Didn't realize. Did you need something?"
My voice was cool, detached.
"Zoey," he said, frustration bleeding into his words, "can you stop talking to me like this? Since when did we become strangers?"
End of The Other Woman in His Shadows Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to The Other Woman in His Shadows book page.