So, I Married Someone Else

I Was Never Her Real Husband

Lydia glared at me before linking her arm with Trevor's. "You don't have to leave. If we're leaving, we're leaving together."

She led him toward the door, comforting him in a soft voice the entire way.

Before she left, she looked back and warned, "Owen, you'd better not regret this."

I did regret it.

I regretted not recognizing her true nature sooner.

I wished I hadn't waited until I was hurt over and over again before I finally saw the light. I detested myself for waiting until I had almost lost everything before finally seeing the truth.

Right now, I only found it an utter shame that she hadn't taken a look at the names written on the marriage certificate.

To be honest, I was looking forward to that.

I wanted to see Lydia's reaction when she found out I had married someone else.

Later, I took a cab to the hospital and had my wounds bandaged.

…

On the way home, Trevor sent me a message with a few photos and two lines.

The photos showed his marriage certificate with Lydia, along with a used condom discarded in the trash.

'Does your certificate even have an official seal? I'm the real spouse, so I get to sleep with her first.'

It was almost funny how childish he was acting.

I looked down at my hand that was wrapped in thick layers of bandage.

I did not bother replying.

I just removed him and blocked his number. Those who no longer deserved my attention could do as they pleased.

I lay in bed all night, but I barely slept.

The next morning, I hired a cleaning crew to clear out the house.

Before I could finish packing up Lydia's things, the front door swung open with a bang.

Lydia walked in with Trevor and a group of her friends, laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened.

The moment they saw me, they started ordering me around like I was hired help.

"Owie, we're in the mood for seafood. Go to Whole Foods and pick up a few things."

"I only eat king crab. And if you're getting fish, make it sea bass."

"Owie can afford it, no? After all, he never fails to serve us the best food there is whenever we drop by."

"Of course. Owie loves Lydia so much. Lucky us, right?"

I looked at their entitled faces and finally saw them for what they were.

They used Lydia's name as it gave them permission to treat my home like their own.

Even the seemingly friendly nickname "Owie" suddenly felt disgusting.

The first time they called me that, I had stupidly asked why they were using a nickname.

They laughed and told me it was because I was younger than they were, and that "Owen" sounded too serious.

Back then, I actually believed them.

Now, I finally understood.

Since Lydia and Trevor got married, Trevor has been the real member of their social circle. Meanwhile, I'd been the court jester for buying every lie they'd been spewing.

I told them, "Don't call me that. If you're hungry, go buy something yourself. Also, this is my home, so please leave."

My words caught everyone off guard.

The lively atmosphere instantly froze.

Lydia's expression darkened. She deliberately raised her voice, making sure everyone could hear her. "Owen, is that how you talk to my friends? Apologize to them now, then get the seafood. Consider it your apology for ruining everyone's mood."

I almost laughed. 'Apologize? Is that the only word she knows?'

Once upon a time, I had been the person she protected.

When we first got together, one of her friends joked that I was only after Lydia's money.

Lydia was so angry that she almost cut that friend off completely and only forgave her after she gave me a formal apology.

On our first anniversary, the restaurant accidentally served soup containing seafood.

Lydia knew I was allergic to seafood, so she made the manager bring every server over to apologize to me.

I was still allergic to seafood, but she had long since forgotten all about it.

At that moment, Trevor tugged at Lydia's arm, his expression wounded. "Lydia, does Owen not want us here? We only came to celebrate you two making it official."

He deliberately emphasized "making it official" and "celebrate," as if he were waiting for my reaction.

Her friends quickly joined in, bursting into exaggerated, mocking cheers. "Right, Owen. Show us the marriage certificate."

As Trevor spoke, he began looking around the room.

I had not had time to put the certificate away after I got home yesterday.

Trevor had sharp eyes and quick hands.

He immediately picked it up from the TV stand.

Then, he waved it at the others with a grin. "Do you guys want to see their marriage certificate?"