Nancy is lively, and gorgeous, and commands every room she walks into. She is everything I am not. The kind of woman that people remember. Me? People look at me without thinking twice since I'm just a girl who blends in with the wallpaper. Generally speaking, I've come to accept it. I've built my life in the quiet nooks and crannies, and I find comfort in my job as a sign language translator at the biggest news station in the city. But tonight, in the grand dining room of my family's estate, something feels off.
The room is filled with the sound of crystal glasses clinking and the aroma of roasted lamb. My father Arthur Rivers, sits at the head of the long mahogany table, his wheelchair securely positioned like a throne. His keen eyes look about the room, and he appears... active for the first time in years. Margaret, my mother, is sitting next to him, her diamond necklace glistening in the light from the chandelier. Her countenance is a careful mask of indifference, and she is as calm as ever.
Nancy is running late.
That, in itself, is unusual. Family dinners are no exception to Nancy's love of being the center of attention. She ought to have been here, seated across from me, her laughter filling the awkward silences, with her perfect makeup gleaming. Instead, her absence feels like a crack in the façade of my family's perfect image.
"Where is Nancy?" I make rapid, flowing motions with my fingers while I sign to my mother.
Margaret waves me away as if my question is bothersome, her lips pressing into a thin line."She's fine." She responds in a clipped voice.
I squint but remain silent. Or rather, sign nothing.
Unspoken tension permeates the air as the dining room gets cooler. With a harsh, gravelly sound that demands attention, my father clears his throat. "Let's not waste time waiting for Nancy. We have important matters to discuss."
Important matters? I look at my mom, but her expression is blank. Every tick of the old clock on the wall breaks the ebbing silence and adds to the mounting uneasiness.
Arthur's knuckles are white against the wood as he holds onto the table's edges. "Nadia," he says, his voice low, almost grave, "there's something you need to know."
My stomach becomes constricted. He only uses that tone when delivering news he knows I won't like.
"You're getting married."
Suffocating and thick, the words linger in the air.
In mid-air, my fingers fumble. I blinked at him, sure that I had misheard, but his eyes were fixed on mine.
Margaret speaks impatiently and sharply as she leans forward. "It's already arranged. Derick Steele. The contract is
Derick Steele. In my view, the name represents a thunderclapEven without speaking, I can feel the weight of it on my tongue. A billionaire with a reputation as icy and merciless as the winter wind, he is notorious in the city. His name is whispered, and stories of his calculating business dealings and unwavering attitude paint him as a guy to be feared.
I sign frantically while shaking my head forcefully. "This is a mistake. Nancy was supposed to marry him. Not me."
The sound of my father slamming a hand on the table echoes throughout the space. "Nancy isn't here, is she?" he snaps. "This alliance is too important to fall apart because your sister decided to be reckless."
Reckless? I felt chilled.
"She ran," Margaret says, her words slicing through the air like a blade. "Nancy left this morning. She left us no choice, Nadia. You're stepping in."
I grab the edge of the table to keep myself balanced as the room wobbles. Every time my heart beats, it roars loudly in my ears and pounding in my chest. Nancy ran? And now they expect me to take her place?
"Why?" I sign, asking a desperate and incisive question. "Why can't you wait for her to come back?"
"Because this deal will save our family," Arthur concludes in a definitive tone. "Without it, we're finished."
My chair scrapes the floor as I push away from the table. My vision becomes blurry at the edges, and the air feels too thick. My own family is throwing me into the fire, offering me up like a pawn to be sacrificed.
Margaret stood up and approached me, her shoes tapping on the ground. She puts a chilly hand firmly on my shoulder. "You'll do this for the family, Nadia. You'll be fine."
My chest heaves as I sign angrily, jerking away from her grasp. "You're using me! You don't care what happens to me, do you?"
Her face hardens. "Enough of this childishness."
"Margaret," Arthur warns, but she waves him off, her focus still on me.
I've done everything to ensure this family's survival." She says, her voice is low and poisonous. "And now it's your turn to contribute. Don't disappoint us, Nadia."
With my hands shaking at my sides, I gaze at her. Like a tidal wave, the truth sweeps over me. In their eyes, I'm nothing more than a stand in, a silent shadow to be moved around as they see fit.
The sound of the front door slamming shut fills the house before I can sign another word. My heart jumps into my throat as my head snaps toward the sound.
Nancy.
Despite my mother's stern orders to halt, I ran out of the room. The faint aroma of Nancy's perfume is still permeating the corridor as it extends in front of me. My heart pounding, I make my way to her bedroom and open the door.
It's empty.
Her vanity is stripped bare.The closet doors are thrown open to show racks of missing clothes.The only thing left is a crumpled piece of paper on the bed.
With shaky hands, I pick it up and look over the hastily scrawled note.
"Nadia, I can't do this. Please forgive me."
I sink onto the bed's edge as my knees give way and the note slips out of my grasp.
Nancy has left.
And I am the replaced bride.
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