The Wife He Never Saw

For five years, I was my husband's most prized possession. Not because he loved me, but because I carried the heart of his dead first love, Fallon.

On our fifth anniversary, a ghost walked through our front door. Fallon was alive.

She laughed and told my husband her "death" was a five-year test of his love.

"And the heart inside you?" she sneered, looking at my chest. "Oh, darling. That's not my heart. It must have belonged to some other poor soul."

The foundation of my life, the entire reason for my gilded cage, was a lie.