LOGINFrom the day I married Jason, I knew I was only a stand-in. He was heir to the vampire throne. I was nothing — the most forgettable daughter of a declining human noble family. The only reason he'd ever looked twice at me was this face. A face that happened to mirror Vicky's — his first love, already married to someone else. For three years after the wedding, I copied her carefully. I smiled whenever I saw him. He would touch my cheek, his eyes cold. “Vicky never smiled like that. Not to please someone.” To stay by his side, I got pregnant again and again — and lost each pregnancy, one after another, in the chill of his indifference. Three years of marriage. I had nothing left but scars. And still I would not let go. Until Vicky's divorce brought her back, and she came to the door herself. At a banquet, assassins struck. Jason's first instinct was to drop me and go to her. Nearly dying finally cleared my head. I signed the divorce papers myself and handed them to him. Later, after I finally walked away, Jason came looking for me — again and again. His eyes were blood-red, his voice unsteady. “Elena. I finally know. You're the one I love.” I just looked at him and smiled, calm. “Too late.”
View MoreElena's POVLater, I found someone who truly loved me.His name was Adrian. He came to the gallery often.The first time we met, he stood for a long time in front of one of my paintings.That canvas had only a single room, empty. A vase by the window, white lilies almost wilted.Everyone said it was beautiful.Only he asked me:“Were you sad when you painted this?”I didn't have an answer for a long time.It had been so long since anyone paid attention to what I actually felt.He came back to the gallery often after that. Sometimes to buy a painting. Sometimes just to sit in a corner with a coffee.He never disturbed me when I was working.When I was busy, he'd just wait.When I turned down dinner, he smiled.“Next time, then.”No cold look. No disappointment. No silence designed to make me feel guilty.I slowly understood: real love didn't force you to make yourself small.It didn't demand you to be grateful for the occasional warmth.Real love made you feel safe. Because you were see
Elena's POVThe gallery was so quiet you could hear the wall clock pendulum.Jason turned to face me. The light in his eyes, that brief recovered hope, faded.“Why?”I said nothing.He stepped closer, voice lower.“You know now that I love you.”“I've dealt with Vicky.”“You still won't come back. Is this about not forgiving me?”I bent to the table and kept arranging my supplies.A deep blue brush had slipped, rolled to the edge. I pressed it back with my fingertip.I felt almost exasperated.“No.”He watched me.I put the brush away and kept my voice even.“Some things, if you say them out loud, only hurt everyone.”“There's no point dredging it up.”“Anyway, I don't love you anymore.”Jason's breath caught. He couldn't accept it.“You're still angry.”I didn't respond.He said:“Elena. I finally know. You're who I love.”“I admit it, I treated you like her shadow.”“But these past months I finally saw clearly what I actually wanted.”I closed the brush case.“Too late.”He stepped f
Elena's POVJason found his way to the gallery while I was cleaning my brushes.Outside, the afternoon sun was at its brightest. The street gleamed. The gallery windows caught great sheets of gold.I'd just finished two canvases. They were on the wall. A few customers stood in front of them, voices low.I stood at my worktable and slowly wiped the paint from each brush handle with a soft cloth.Then the wind chime above the door rang.I looked up.Jason stood in the entrance.He was in a long black coat, hat pulled low, hiding under both. He was holding a large bunch of white roses, which made him look, for all his composed elegance, oddly out of place.Vampires are sensitive to sunlight.He had always been attended to: cars arranged in advance, blackout curtains drawn. He belonged to the night. To those dark, ornate vampire gatherings.Not standing outside a human art gallery, wrapped in a coat, avoiding the light.But he'd come anyway.The gallery went quiet.People recognized him.H
Jason's POVAfter that day, I kept my word. I stopped appearing in front of her.But I still had things sent.Medicine she needed. She sent all of it back, without exception.I arranged a better exhibition spot through the gallery owner. The next day, the money came back the same way it went.Elena knew it was me.She refused every time, cleanly.That feeling of being unwanted was harder to endure than I had expected.Meanwhile, Vicky kept reaching out.At first she sent messages through others.She couldn't sleep. She was afraid, alone in the house.I didn't go back. Didn't reply.Until one day she walked into my study herself.She stood in the doorway, eyes red.“Jason, what exactly is this about?”I set down the papers.“Leave.”She didn't move.She stared at me, then let out a strange, short laugh.“You were obsessed with me for years. You couldn't have me, so you married someone with my face.”“Now I'm back, I'm free, and you don't want to look at me anymore?”My brows drew tight.






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