I Regret Saving You

My name is Marty Lopez. I've been with Arsenal Lancaster for eight years. Eight years—long enough for a seed to grow into a towering tree, long enough for a naïve girl to burn out into weary exhaustion. The rumors outside never stopped. They say I'm just a stand-in for Selena White. Selena was Arsenal Lancaster's first love. Rumor has it I bear a slight resemblance to her. It's not like I haven't heard those words before. Whispers in the corners of parties. Vague, half-hearted reports in magazines. Even Arsenal's friends look at me with pity in their eyes. But I still remember that rainy night eight years ago. I found him in an abandoned temple on the edge of town. He was bruised all over, eyes hollow, forgetting even who he was. I named him Andres. We clung to each other in that rental house. I worked three jobs to feed him and tend his wounds. He'd clumsily cook me noodles and wait for me by the alley whenever I came home late. Those days were poor, but steady. I thought we were each other's salvation. Until half a year later, he regained his memories. He was the heir to the Lancaster Group, Arsenal Lancaster. He didn't leave me behind. He brought me back to the Lancaster family's ancestral house. That day, Old Mr. Lancaster trembled with rage and punished him with the family code. The whip landed on his back, but he gripped my hand tight as ever. "I'm going to marry Marty." He said. I looked at his bleeding back, my eyes welling up. Later, we got our marriage certificate. The marriage certificate felt heavy in my hands. I thought the rumors would eventually die down. I thought eight years of being there could warm a heart. Until our wedding anniversary. He said he was going out to dinner with friends and told me to go home first. I cut my date with my best friend short, hoping to surprise him. Just as I reached the villa gate, I heard voices from the living room. It's Arsenal Lancaster and his childhood friend, Harry Salazar. "Arsenal, are you really planning to spend your life with Marty?" Harry's voice was dripping with mockery. "Life?" Arsenal chuckled lightly, a trace of impatience in his tone. "It's just for the novelty." My steps faltered; my blood turned ice-cold in an instant. "Novelty? You've been doing this for eight years." "So what if it's been eight years?" Arsenal's voice grew cold. "If she hadn't saved me back when I lost my memory, I wouldn't have spared her a second glance." "Then what about the marriage certificate...?" "It's fake." Three words, sharp as poison-coated needles, pierced my heart. "She's kept only because she's obedient, unlike Selena who throws tantrums." "When Selena comes back, naturally, she'll have her place." I stood outside the door, trembling all over. The cake slipped from my hands, cream splattering all over me. So, eight years of deep affection and loyalty was nothing but a carefully staged lie. It turned out that red marriage certificate never meant a thing. I was just his boredom's diversion, a stand-in for his first love, and a prisoner trapped behind a fake certificate for eight years.