The Woman He Couldn’t Keep

Francesca’s POV

The first thing I noticed was that Sophie’s bed was still made, and that alone told me something was wrong, because Sophie never made her bed.

Sophie was always careless with her things. She left clothes on the floor, makeup scattered across her vanity and shoes wherever she happened to take them off. Mom complained about it constantly, but never made Sophie clean anything herself. This morning, the room looked untouched and too neat. I stood in the doorway, staring at the perfectly arranged pillows.

“Sophie?”

No answer.

I stepped inside and glanced around the room. The curtains were open and her perfume still lingered in the air. Her phone charger was plugged into the wall, but her phone was gone.

I crossed to the wardrobe and when I opened it, the entire section hung bare.

“Sophie?”

I pulled open another drawer. It was empty and her passport was gone too. She was gone, actually gone.

I hurried downstairs.

Mom was sitting at the breakfast table, scrolling through her phone while a maid poured coffee into her cup. Father sat at the other end of the table, reading something on his tablet.

“Mom.”

She didn’t look up. “What?”

“I can’t find Sophie.”

“She’s probably with one of her friends.”

“Her passport is gone.”

Her thumb stopped moving and father lowered his tablet and looked at me.

“What did you say?”

“I said her passport is gone and half of her clothes are missing too.”

“Did you check her bathroom? Her dressing room?”

“Yes”

“Call her”

“I did. Her phone is off.”

Father pushed his chair back and stood, the legs scraping against the floor. “When did you last see her?”

“Last night.”

“Who was she with?”

“I don’t know.”

His eyes narrowed. “You live in the same house.”

“I was working.”

“You were drawing.” He said it the way he always did, like sketching was something shameful.

“Yes.”

“Of course.” The dismissal in his voice stung.

Mom stood smoothing her robe. “Nobody says anything to the Windsor family.”

“The wedding is in four days.” I said.

“I know.”

Neither of them said anything else, and it was then I understood that they weren’t worried about Sophie. They were worried about the wedding.

The next few hours turned the house upside down. Security searched the gates. The drivers were questioned. Father made several phone calls from his study, each one ending with a slammed door.

I stayed upstairs, unnoticed. I returned to my room and opened the sketchbook on my desk. I had been working on a necklace design for weeks. I stared at it for a while before closing the book. There was no point. Whatever I designed ended up belonging to Sophie.

A knock sounded at my door and I looked up. Father stood in the doorway.

“Come downstairs.”

I closed my sketchbook. “Why?”

“Now.”

When I entered the study, Mother was already there. She stood near the window, refusing to look at me.

“Sophie isn’t coming back.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“We’ve searched everywhere.”

“Then call the police.” I said

“No.”

“Why not?”

“The wedding is in four days.” He answered

“My sister is missing.”

“I know.”

“Then why are we talking about the wedding?”

“Because the wedding cannot be canceled.” Father said.

I looked at Mother, waiting for her to say something. She finally met my eyes. “We need you to take Sophie’s place.”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard us out.”

“I don’t need to.”

Father stepped toward the desk, his shadow falling across the papers there. “You will marry Julian Windsor.”

For a moment, I thought I’d heard him wrong. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“You want me to marry Sophie’s fiancé?” The absurdity of it should have made me laugh, but judging from father’s expression, he wasn’t joking.

“We don’t have another choice.”

“You do.”

Mother sighed. “Don’t make this difficult.”

“You’re asking me to marry a man who thinks he’s marrying Sophie.” I said

“He’ll understand.”

“No, he won’t.” I said flatly.

“He doesn’t need to know everything.”

I laughed. “Are you serious?”

Father’s voice sharpened. “You will marry him.”

“I said no.”

“You have always been difficult when it mattered.”

“And you’ve always remembered I exist when you need something.” The words came out before I could stop them.

“Watch your tone.”

“My tone isn’t the problem.”

“If you refuse, the company collapses.” Father said

“That’s not my fault.”

“No. But you can stop it.”

I hated him for saying that, because he knew exactly where to press. Waldorf & Co was failing and employees depended on that company, but that didn’t make me responsible for saving it with my life.

“I need time.”

“You have tonight. Tomorrow morning, you will be married.” Father said

I left the room before they could see the tears burning my eyes. That night, I didn’t sleep. I packed a small bag with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling, and at five in the morning, I slipped out through the back door. I made it as far as the driveway.

“Miss Francesca!”

I froze.

A security guard was running toward me and I closed my eyes. Of course I would be caught. Nothing in my life had ever gone the way I wanted it to.

When I returned to the house, Mother was waiting in the hallway, her eyes dropping to the bag still clutched in my hand. “Where were you going?”

“Anywhere.”

“You really think you can abandon your family when they need you?”

“You abandoned me long before today.” For one brief second, something shifted in her expression, but it was gone as soon as it came.

“Go get dressed.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

I wanted to scream loud enough to wake the entire house. Instead, I climbed the stairs in silence.

By eight, a team of stylists had arrived. They dressed me in a gown that had been chosen for Sophie. They curled my hair the way Sophie wore hers. They painted my lips the shade Sophie liked. When I looked into the mirror, I barely recognized myself.

Mother stood behind me, studying my reflection with satisfaction. “Beautiful.”

I looked at myself and felt nothing but distance. “She would look better.”

“Exactly.” Mother said, and smiled like she didn’t just insult me.

I said nothing. A knock sounded at the door.

“It’s time.”

I took one last look at myself and then I walked out. The wedding car was already waiting. As it pulled away from the house, I looked through the window and watched as we moved farther away from the house, I wondered if I would ever come back.

In a few minutes, the wedding venue came into view. The car stopped and I came down. The wedding coordinator was already waiting and she rushed towards me, her smile bright and practiced.

“Are you ready?” the coordinator asked

“No”

She smiled anyway. “Perfect”

The doors opened and I stepped forward into a room full of music and eyes, though I refused to meet any of them. My gaze went straight to the altar and that was when I saw him.

Julian Windsor.

He stood beneath the flowers, dressed in black, waiting for the woman he thought he was marrying. His eyes found mine and he froze, something like confusion flickered across his face, followed by a strange flash of recognition, as though he’d seen me somewhere before.

His gaze moved past me, searching the entrance behind me for Sophie. I kept walking anyway because there was no turning back now.

When I reached the altar, he leaned towards me. “Where is Sophie?”

“She isn’t here.”

His jaw tightened visibly and his eyes moved over my face again, lingering longer this time. “Have we met before?”

My heart skipped. “I don’t think so.”

The priest cleared his throat gently. “Shall we begin?”

Neither of us answered, but the ceremony began regardless. I barely heard anything after that, the words blurring together into something distant and unreal. When the priest asked Julian if he took me as his wife, he stared at me. For a second, I thought he would refuse.

Then he said, “I do.”

When it was my turn, I looked into his cold grey eyes and forced the words out. “I do.”

The ring slid onto my finger and I put his ring on his hand. The priest pronounced us husband and wife and applause erupted around us, cameras flashing in a blinding rhythm.

Julian leaned toward me, his expression cold. “Whatever game you’re playing, I’ll find out.”

I met his eyes without flinching. “I’m not playing any game.”

His eyes lingered on mine, that same strange flicker of recognition passing through his eyes before he looked away entirely.

The reception was a blur. People congratulated our families, champagne glasses clinked and everyone acted as though this marriage was the beginning of a beautiful love story.

Julian barely spoke and neither did I. Eventually, we were escorted outside. The drive to the Windsor mansion was silent. I watched New York disappear behind the tinted windows.

“You’ll have your own room.” Julian said

“Okay.”

You won’t interfere with my life.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

You won’t speak to the press without my permission.”

“You’ll attend family events when required.” I finished for him. “Anything else?”

“No.”

The car slowed and the gates opened. The Windsor mansion appeared beyond them. Staff members stood outside waiting. As I stepped out, a maid lowered her head.

“Welcome home Mrs Windsor.”

Home. The word felt wrong. Julian walked ahead without waiting for me and I followed. I had no idea that by entering those doors, I was stepping into something more complicated than a marriage I never wanted.