No Longer His Ugly Wife

Lucy’s POV

“Happy anniversary, honey!” 

Today marked our third wedding anniversary.

Three years ago, I was Lucy Whitmore. Slim, radiant, and the rebellious daughter of a powerful family. But I gave up everything, my title and my inheritance just for a man who painted sunsets on cracked canvases and whispered that I was his muse.

And this morning, that same man, my husband, Tom, smiled at me as if nothing had changed, walking in with paint still drying on his hands.

I wiped the flour from my apron and returned the smile, mirroring the affection that I saw in his gaze.

“Happy anniversary.” I replied, trying not to feel self-conscious about the muffin top folding under my shirt.

He dug into his old leather bag and pulled out three tickets. 

“Surprise!” he declared, waving them with exaggerated flair.

I blinked. “What’s this?”

“Hawaii trip next week.” he grinned. “Beach BBQs, surfing, sunshine… I figured we all needed a break.”

My heart swelled. I never liked tropical trips. Swimsuits only reminded me I was overweight. The frumpy wife in every room.

“You, me, and Noah.” he added, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Do you like it?”

I was floored. My paint-covered, daydreaming husband suddenly became romantic? Maybe he hadn’t forgotten us after all.

“Okay! Yes!” I said excitedly.

“Yes!” Tom exclaimed.”Oh, honey, we’re going to have the best time!”

I wanted to believe that-I almost did, until he said what he had next.

“And one more thing. Blair. She’s coming with us.” Tom added casually.

My smile faltered. “Blair? Our-our neighbor, Blair?” I was dumbfounded. 

“Yeah.”

I paused for seconds, waiting for the ‘gotcha’ moment. It never came. “You’re joking…right?”

He shook his head casually. “No. She got some amazing discounts. And she used to be a part-time tour guide. She knows the island like the back of her hand. Better our guide be someone we know, right?”

My stomach clenched. 

“Tom, this is our anniversary trip. Who invites another person on an anniversary trip?” I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“Lucy,” he groaned.”She helped a lot with those tickets. So, I don’t see why she can’t come.”

I was in utter shock.

“On our anniversary trip? Tom, she’s a stranger. And this trip-it’s for our family. You, me, and Noah. Remember?” 

“She’s not a stranger. And we shouldn’t worry about expenses for our precious trip, right?” He didn’t even pause. 

I didn’t have a chance to respond before Noah ran in, clutching his little dinosaur toy.

“What?! Hawaii trip? And Blair’s coming?!” he squealed.

“Noah, sweetie, Blair won’t be coming with us this time. This trip is just for us.”

His temper flared. “No!” he turned to Tom as he could overturn any decision I made. “Dad, why can’t Blair come?” Noah glared at me. “You’re being mean! I wish Blair was my mommy instead!”

Noah’s words left me speechless, a physical blow to my heart.

I tried to blink back tears and explain, “Honey, it’s just—”

“It’s not fair! If she can’t go, I won’t go!” Noah spatted.

How could I combat that? Noah had his heart set on Blair coming. When I looked at Tom for support, he just sighed, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this, honey. Let’s not ruin the mood, alright?”

I forced a smile. “Okay…”

But something inside me had already broken.

Blair moved in six months ago. I remembered it like yesterday. Noah accidentally kicked a ball straight through her kitchen window. I ran over. I was horrified and apologized to her. But she just laughed it off like it was charming. She stood there, all legs and honey curls, in tight yoga pants and a crop top that never seemed to shift out of place.

Since then, she was always around. She lived alone, but somehow, she never seemed lonely. Tom helped her fix her sink, her shelves, even her TV. She baked pies, real ones, not store-bought, and said things like “I just had extra, so I thought I’d share.” And it became our favorite.

I wanted to believe she was just friendly. But I always felt watched, replaced, and slowly edged out.

Noah adored her. Tom laughed too easily when she was around. And me? I kept shrinking, folding myself smaller and smaller until all that remained was a quiet ache behind my smile.

That night, as I folded laundry and tucked Noah into bed. I resolved to talk to Tom again. To ask-no, beg for space or boundaries. To remind him that this trip was for us.

But suddenly, the doorbell rang. Before the door swung open, I knew who it was. Blair walked in like she was performing. 

She was wearing a tight tank dress that hugged every inch of her figure. Her blonde curls bounced like they’d been professionally styled. Her arms were perfectly toned. She held a tray of cupcakes and an oversized smile.

“Noah!” she called.

“Oh, Blair,” I said. “Noah’s actually in bed-”

“Aunty Blair!” Before I could finish my sentence, Noah came shuffling out of his room and into her arms, giggling like she’d just walked out of a fairy tale.

Tom walked over with a grin and a glass of iced coffee. “Thought you’d need this.”

Blair winked at him. “Thanks. You know me so well.”

I stood there, invisible. Watching them. Listening to their laughter. The three of them fit like puzzle pieces.

“I brought a little something for the trip.” Blair announced, pulling out a shopping bag.

My chest tightened. She handed Tom a red baseball cap, bright and sleek.

“And one for Noah.”

He squealed in delight, putting it on right away. “We match!”

“I’ve got one too.” she said, pulling out an identical red cap and slipping it over her curls. 

“We’ll be the red trio, easy to find in a crowd.” she chuckled.

My hands clenched at my sides.

Then she looked at me with mock surprise. 

“Oh! Lucy. I didn’t forget you.” she smiled.

She reached into the bag and pulled out a dull, floppy sun hat, beige, wide-brimmed, wrinkled like it’d been shoved to the bottom of a thrift bin.

“I am sorry. I couldn’t find one in your size.” she said with a sad little smile. “But this one’s practical. More sun coverage.”

Tom chuckled. “It’ll be perfect for you.”

I took it with numb fingers. The hat was… ugly. I walked to the mirror in the hallway. Slowly put the hat on, and stared at my reflection.

The woman who looked back wasn’t me.

She was heavier. She looked tired. Her eyes were dull. Her cheeks were round. The hat swallowed her face. In short, she looked like someone’s aging aunt on a gardening trip.

I shifted my gaze to watch them.

Tom, Noah, and Blair in the reflection. They’re laughing wearing their red hats glowing like a neon sign. Like the perfect little family. 

I smiled bitterly.

And for the first time in three years, I asked myself a question I had no answer for.

Had I already been replaced?