The Stand-In Game

Andrew glanced at me like I was dim. "Let me repeat myself. I have prosopagnosia. I thought you were a stranger, and…"

He trailed off, but I knew he had been desperate to rescue Ivy.

Perhaps my stare pricked his guilt, because he snapped, "Sophie! Do you expect an apology for my psychological condition?"

Andrew's expression darkened, and the fight went out of me.

What good would an apology do now? He had already hurt me.

After a moment, I said heavily, "Fine. I'll put out a statement to explain who I am."

Andrew only then looked satisfied and turned to the window. Catching the tenderness and longing in his eyes, I followed his line of sight.

Ivy was reading at the cafe in another black dress. He picked her out in an instant despite the distance and the window.

So the issue was never prosopagnosia. It was that Andrew only recognized those who mattered to him. He didn't love me.

My chest ached as though my heart had been riddled, the pain sawing through me. Even so, I smiled and rolled the window down so Andrew could look all he wanted.

I had finally come to my senses. Our four-year marriage was over for me, and my love for him was gone for good!

…

The day after, Brenda prodded me to issue the statement.

I drafted a lengthy post laying out my relationship with Andrew. He wanted it hidden, but I was done with that.

Soon, I was done with the post.

"Andrew Connolly was my husband, which was why I went to see him yesterday. But he addressed me as 'riffraff' in front of all his employees. Despite four years of marriage, he failed to recognize me as his wife and repeatedly dismissed me.

"At a recent concert, he saved someone else instead of me. Loving the wrong person shattered me. Therefore, I would be divorcing Mr. Connolly and setting him free."

I ended the post by attaching a photo of our marriage certificate. I felt lighter once it was posted.

Soon, Andrew began calling me nonstop, but I didn't pick up. Minutes later, he stormed home, yanked me from the couch, and dug his fingers into my arm.

"Sophie! Are you insane? Who told you to post that nonsense on Facebook?"

I regarded him coolly. "It's the truth."

He faltered for a second, then barked, "Delete it now!"

I shrugged and shot back, "Even if I do, the screenshots remain."

Andrew fell silent. After thinking it through, he ordered, "Post a new statement saying you were confused and posted it by mistake."

I shook my head, pulled my arm free, and took a few steps back. "I'm not posting anything else."

My refusal drew a brutal cold from him, and his tone turned cutting. "You're being reckless. What if Ivy gets dragged in? People will start digging into who I saved first that day, and once they learn the truth, she'll be doxxed."

Even with all my disappointment in Andrew, his words still hurt. He had never considered my feelings. All his concern was for Ivy.

I looked him straight in the eye and asked, heavy-voiced, "You care about her a lot, don't you?"

"Yes. Ivy means a lot to me," he answered at once.

I managed a wry smile. "I'm nothing to you. That's why you can't remember me."

Andrew frowned, attempting to swallow his temper as he tried to soothe me. "I'll be able to recognize you if you keep wearing the same outfit every day."

Displeasure crept into my tone. "Let's get a divorce, Andrew!"