Chapter 3

FLASHBACK

Andre's POV

The only sound in the room was of fork scraping plate and the sound made me a bit anxious.

I sat across from my mother at the dining table, with my father at the head of the table. It was a ridiculously long table that was massive enough to seat twenty, though there were only three of us.

My mother took a sip of her white wine, and my father munched loudly as he cut through his steak.

He looked at me once, then dropped the cutlery.

“We’re tired of waiting, Andre.”

I said nothing.

“You’ve wasted years waiting for god-knows-what,” he added. “Diane’s gone. Dead or probably doesn’t care as much as you do. Either way, enough of this foolishness.”

“She’s not…”

“She’s gone,” he snapped.

I glared at him.

My mother didn’t look up from her glass. “Just get married already. There are enough women waiting for you to notice them.”

I stared at her. “Not like you had the best marriage, mom. You don’t get to give advice.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring me. “If you don't want to get a girl, you'd have to marry the commissioner's daughter. She's quite the catch.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I swore

My father leaned forward, “Language, Andre. Don't be rude to your mother.”

I sat back. “Why? I'm not a child anymore father, you don't get to tell me what to do!” I sighed, “I knew, I never should have come when you sent for me. I'm so stupid!”

My dad slammed his hand down on the table, the sound sharp enough to make the serving butler jump and the whole table shake. “Get your act together, Andre! Else, I’m giving my inheritance to Charles.”

The room suddenly grew quiet.

“You’re what?” My mom asked, her eyes wide like they could pop out her skull any moment.

“You heard me,” he said. “I have no intention of waiting while you waste the family’s name without giving me what I want.”

“You're bluffing.”

My father scoffed, “‘You don't get to tell me what to do’?” He echoed back my words, “I gave you the life of privilege you enjoy! God dammit! You do exactly as I say.” His voice rose with each uttered word.

He was serious.

“No one is indispensable, not even my child. Charles is competent and obedient.”

“He’s your bastard.” My mom was still hung up on that.

“And he’s not wasting my time.”

I pushed my chair back and stood up slowly. “I have to go.”

“Don’t act up. You're still nothing under my wings,” His voice was calmer now. “You’re thirty-two, no wife, no heir.”

“I run two companies and a philanthropic board...”

“Which I set up for you!” He shook his head, “Just marry. Cement the legacy.”

“Go to hell.”

My mother still didn't move as I stormed out.

I drove like I needed to feel someone under the influence.

My music was blasting loudly, my windows down, and wind blowing on my face. I didn’t slow down.

The highway was wet with rain that had fallen earlier.

Then, I saw something.

Something by the roadside, or rather someone. Lying down.

I hit the brakes.

The tires screamed. The car swerved slightly before it settled. I opened the door, as the rain started pouring again.

In seconds, I was soaked.

My heart was racing, as I ran toward the figure.

It was an unconscious woman. She was bleeding from her head and her shoe was missing. She held no purse and no phone.

I dropped to my knees beside her, “Hey! Are you okay?”

Of course she was not, she was barely breathing. I turned her over and I froze.

No.

It can't be.

Her face…

It was her.

It was Diane.

Oh wait… not quite.

This lady was different. She had longer lashed and fuller lips. But the resemblance was uncanny.

My hands trembled as I reached for my phone. I called the ambulance. I gave the location and waited.

She was in surgery for four hours.

She had been in a hit and run. The police who had assessed the case had said.

She had some minor internal bleeding; some fractures and she had sustained a hit to the head. Maybe where her head had hit a rock when she fell.

What was worse was that she had no identification, there was no one to reach out to. No one called either for a missing person. No missing persons report matched her. The police started asking questions I couldn’t answer.

So, I gave them nothing.

I checked in the next day.

And the day after.

And the one after that.

I told myself I needed to see her because she looked so much like Diane. That looking at her helped me let go of Diane.

I’d come by most times after work, to see if she had finally opened her eyes, I would watch her breathe, I would stare at her face which was wrapped in gauze and wonder why the hell the universe had sent me this… reflection.

Some nights, I stayed past visiting hours. Just sat there.

A week later, my phone rang.

My mother.

I shouldn’t have answered.

“I hear you’ve been going to the hospital a lot,” she said. “Are you sick?”

“Who told you that?” I scoffed, “Of course you're having some follow me. How typical.”

“It’s my way of showing you I care.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What do you want?”

“I want you to stop giving your father reasons to humiliate me.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t need me to do that.”

“You know he’s serious, Andre. If you don’t act soon, he’s giving the inheritance to that… that Charles or whatever they call him. And if that happens, I’m done trying to protect you.”

“So, it’s about money.”

I could feel her rolling her eyes. “Don’t act dumb, Andre. I raised you better than that. Of course it's about the money. What else? Wasn't that why I married your father and suffered through for thirty something years. I didn't care about your father’s mistresses as long as my child got everything. Then he brought that boy he brought into our lives. You think I stayed because I was in love? No. I stayed for this moment. For the chance to pass something real to you… my son.”

I said nothing.

She sighed. “You don’t have to love someone to marry them. Just make it look convincing.”

Then she hung up.

I had a messed-up family. I know.

That night, I sat beside the stranger again.

Her breathing was steady and normal. Her lips were now very dry and chapped. Her left hand still had the IV in it.

I looked at her for a long time.

I knew what my parents wanted, but I was not interested in any girl. The only girl I was interested in…

I looked at the face of the stranger who carried a replica of my lover's face.

I shook my head and left the ward to return home.

A week later, as I walked into the hospital after work, a nurse walked up to me before I could go see my newest obsession.

“Mr. DeLuca?”

I looked up.

“She’s awake now.”

I felt a lot of emotions come at me at once.

This was it.

The girl I found on the road, the girl with Diane’s face…

She was finally awake.

When the doctor confirmed her amnesia diagnosis, that was the moment the idea came.

She wasn’t Diane.

But she looked like her. Exactly like her.

She had no one looking for her and she would need the help of a stranger who also needed a bride.