Part 2The Stand-In In My Wedding Portrait

"Rachel, don't you think you crossed the line yesterday?"

The next morning, Gary leaned against the bedroom doorframe, offering me a glass of warm milk. His tone was smooth, as if discussing the morning weather.

I took the glass and set it on the nightstand without taking a sip. "Where exactly did I cross the line?"

"That text in the group chat. Over a hundred people saw it. Telling everyone to hang Mindy's wedding photos in our living room, what do you think people are going to say?"

"Did you care what people would say when you took wedding photos with her?"

He rubbed his temples and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Fine, I admit I did not think it through. But do not take it out on Mindy. She grew up without parents and has no close friends besides me. It is natural for her to lean on me."

I had listened to this exact lecture for three long years. Every time Mindy crossed an obvious line, Gary's defense always circled back to the same origin: She is fragile, so give her a break.

"Gary, she wore my makeup to represent me at your family dinners, attended your annual corporate galas in my place, and now poses in my wedding gown. What is next? Standing beside you at the registry office to sign our marriage license?"

"Can you stop making it sound so dramatic?" A flash of irritation cracked through his calm facade, but he quickly reined it in, softening his voice. "Rachel, I know you are upset. Once the photos are printed, I will have her delete every single digital file. Okay?"

"And that contract on the coffee table? Will you delete that too?"

He froze.

I looked straight into his eyes. "You asked Mindy to sign Thursday's deal for me. You handed over the equity agreement and gave her the safe combination. Gary, what are you actually doing?"

Silence stretched between us for several seconds.

He stood up, walked over to the window, and spoke with his back turned to me. "That contract is no big deal. Didn't you say you had a medical checkup on Thursday? I did not want to mess up your schedule, so I asked Mindy to help out. She is already familiar with their team anyway."

"Is their team familiar with her, or with me? Those equity shares belong to me."

"It makes no difference."

It makes no difference.

When those words left his mouth, he did not even turn around to face me.

The doorbell chimed.

Gary went to answer it. Mindy stood in the doorway wearing an almond cardigan, holding an insulated food bag.

"Rachel, I made some bird's nest soup for you. I felt so terrible about yesterday that I couldn't sleep all night. I knew I had to apologize to your face."

Her eyes were red, and the tip of her nose was flushed. She bowed slightly as she held out the container, her posture meek and blameless.

"Mindy woke up early just to simmer this," Gary said, shooting me a meaningful look.

I did not reach for the bag. "Save the gifts, Mindy. Just return the contract sitting on the coffee table."

Her hand stiffened.

Gary frowned. "Rachel..."

"I said give me the contract. I will sign it myself on Thursday."

Mindy's lips quivered slightly. She slowly pulled the container back against her chest, her voice barely audible. "Rachel, Gary helped me prepare for that meeting all day yesterday. I already coordinated with their point person. If we switch representatives now, it might ruin the deal."

"It is my contract. When I sign it and who I work with is none of your concern."

"Rachel..." Gary started to speak, but Mindy gently tugged at his sleeve.

"Gary, stop. It is my fault. Rachel is right, I overstepped."

She turned around, her small frame looking fragile under the entryway light. After taking a couple of steps, she leaned heavily against the shoe cabinet, swaying slightly.

"Mindy!" Gary rushed forward to support her.

Mindy clutched her chest, her voice faint. "I am fine... I just didn't sleep well last night, my heart is fluttering a bit..."

Gary helped her onto the sofa and looked back at me. I knew that look all too well: Look what you did, you drove her to exhaustion again.

I said nothing.

"Rachel, we will talk about the contract later. Let Mindy catch her breath first."

He poured a glass of warm water from the kitchen and draped a throw blanket over her knees.

Mindy leaned back against the armrest, her eyes closed, her eyelashes trembling softly. But underneath the blanket, her right thumb was discreetly tapping across her phone screen.

A notification pinged twice.

I could not see what she sent, but Gary's phone lit up almost simultaneously on the table. He glanced at the screen, then immediately flipped the phone face down.

"I am going out to pick up some medicine. Keep an eye on her," he whispered to me as he grabbed his car keys. "Rachel, she is really unwell. Don't push her too hard."

The front door clicked shut.

Only Mindy and I were left in the living room.

Her eyes remained closed.

I walked over, picked up the phone resting face down on her lap, and saw the screen was unlocked.

The messaging app was open to her chat with Gary. She had just sent a four-second voice note.

I tapped play on the speaker.

A quiet, trembling sob filled the air, sounding like a helpless, wounded animal.

Underneath the audio message was a line of text: Gary, does Rachel hate me? Maybe I should never have come here.

Gary's reply came instantly: Do not overthink it. She is just venting her temper. I will be right back.

I placed the phone back onto her lap.

Mindy opened her eyes.

Her gaze was cold, clear, and completely devoid of tears.

"Rachel, you really shouldn't go through my phone."

I turned around and walked back into the bedroom, without giving her another glance.

I unzipped my suitcase.

Passport, IDs, a change of clothes.

My flight ticket for two days later sat quietly in my phone app.

But before leaving, I needed to retrieve the original documents from the safe.