3

Aisha's POV

The light rain drizzled on the streets, creating reflections of dim streetlights. I sat in the living room, wearing the dress I had carefully chosen for this special night—our third wedding anniversary.

Little candles flickered on the dining table, creating a warm and loving atmosphere.

Every detail had been prepared with love, hoping this would be an unforgettable night. However, something felt odd tonight. An uneasy feeling hung in the air, tightening my chest.

I glanced at the clock. It had been over an hour since he promised to come home. My heart raced, and anxiety began to creep into my heart. My thoughts were filled with various possibilities.

"Is he late because of work?" or "Is something happening to him?"

The longer I waited, the more painful the uncertainty became.

Finally, the front door opened, and he walked in. But he was not alone.

A woman stood beside him. Beautiful, elegant, with eyes that hinted at something sharp. She wore a graceful black dress, and her smile lacked warmth. I stood there, confused, trying to understand what was happening.

The expression on my husband's face... something in his gaze made my stomach churn.

"Who is she?" I asked, my voice trembling. Worry and anger mixed into one.

He took a deep breath, as if preparing for something heavy.

"We need to talk."

I let out a small, bitter laugh.

"Talk? On our wedding anniversary? With another woman by your side?"

The sudden pain shot through my heart.

He looked at me with an expression that was hard to interpret.

"I married you because I thought Lena’s heart was beating in your chest."

The world seemed to stop spinning. My heart raced painfully, and I stared at him, trying to digest the words he had just spoken.

"What do you mean?" my question came out almost inaudibly.

He averted his gaze, unable to look at me any longer.

"Lena... she was my first love. She died five years ago in an accident. I lost everything when she left. But then, I heard that someone received a heart transplant on the same day Lena died. I thought... I thought it was you."

I felt my blood rush, my face heating up.

"So, I’m just a vessel for her heart? I’m just someone you married because you thought I carried a part of her?"

My voice trembled, torn between anger and heartbreak.

He didn’t answer. The silence that followed my words was far more painful than any confirmation. I felt as if all the hopes and happiness I ever had collapsed in an instant.

I shook my head, holding back the tears that had welled in my eyes.

"And now? Why is she here?"

The woman stepped forward, her thin smile still intact.

"Because I am the one who truly has Lena's heart. I just found out that the heart you thought was hers is actually in me."

Something within me shattered.

I felt like shards of glass scattered on the floor, unable to be picked up again.

I looked at my husband, hoping he would deny it, hoping he would say that he chose me not because of the heart in my chest. But he remained silent.

"I love you," he murmured, but his voice sounded hollow. "But I can't ignore these feelings. I have to be with her. I have to be with the true heart of Lena."

His words hit me like a hammer, making me feel crushed.

My chest felt tight, my breath short.

"So, is this it? You want us to get a divorce? Because you’ve found the true heart?"

Every word that came out of my mouth felt painful.

He nodded slowly, and that was more painful than anything I had ever experienced. This pain was like a dagger piercing my heart. I looked at him for the last time, memorizing every line of his face, before finally taking a deep breath.

Without saying anything more, I turned and stepped out of the home that had once been a place filled with happiness for me.

The rain poured harder as I walked away, but I didn't care. I didn't look back.

Never.

My steps felt heavy as I left the home I had always considered a safe haven.

The rain seemed to mirror my shattered feelings. Each drop that fell to the ground felt like tears that had not been shed. The darkness of the night enveloped my thoughts, trapping me in a sea of sorrow.

I walked aimlessly, away from our home, from the painful memories. The sound of my footsteps competed with the roar of the rain, and in my heart, there was an indescribable pain.

My head was filled with questions.

Why did this all have to happen?

Why did I have to be a replacement for a lost love?

After a while, I found myself in the park where we used to walk together. The place now felt foreign and sad. I sat on a wet bench, recalling the laughter and joy that once existed here. The smell of wet earth and the sound of rain provided a sense of calm, but my heart remained broken.

I pulled out my phone and looked at the photos of us saved within it. Every image reminded me of the beautiful moments that now felt like an illusion.

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, and all that pain finally erupted.

Why did this have to happen to me?

Why couldn’t I be someone good enough to be loved wholeheartedly?

I felt like a lost woman. I lost not only a husband but also myself. I lost the identity I had built all this time.

I used to feel valuable, but now it all felt empty. I missed the Sean who loved me sincerely, not because of the heart that beat within me.

The weeks following that night passed slowly. Each day felt like a struggle, and every second I fought to rise from my despair. I began to isolate myself, avoiding friends and family. Facing reality felt too painful.

I decided to return to my daily routine, but everything felt different. Every step I took felt heavy, and every laugh I heard around me only reminded me of how shattered my heart was. I felt like a shadow of my former self.

I decided to go to the gym. Exercise had always been a good escape, but now it felt difficult. I ran on the treadmill, trying to release all the pain and anger that had been pent up. Each step felt like an effort to shed the weight that bound me.

As I ran, I remembered Sean's words.

"I married you because I thought Lena's heart was beating in your chest."

Those words kept replaying in my mind, like a mantra I could never let go of.

Was I just a replacement?

Was I nothing more than a vessel for a lost love?

After running for half an hour, I stopped and sat on the edge of the treadmill, my breath heavy. I looked into the mirror in front of me, and for the first time, I saw myself in a different light.

I saw a wounded woman, but one who still had hope. Something within me began to rise.

I couldn't keep being trapped in this pain. Perhaps it was time to find my lost identity. I didn’t want to be just a replacement for the love that had gone. I deserved to be loved wholeheartedly, and I had to find a way to love myself.