We had a small ceremony in Arthur’s backyard.
Arthur looked handsome in his navy suit. I wore cream. I had no interest in pretending I was anything other than exactly who I was: a woman who had already loved deeply and had somehow found room in her heart to love again.
As I stood there holding his hands, I felt excited. That’s what breaks my heart when I think back on it.
“I do,” I said before the pastor could finish.
People laughed softly. Arthur smiled.
Just like that, I was a wife again.
That’s what breaks my heart when I think back on it.
Linda stood off to the side, watching. Even after everyone else started dancing.
Every time I looked over, she wore the same pained expression.
I couldn’t take it anymore. She’d been cold and strange, and if she didn’t like me (as I suspected was the case), then it was best to clear the air now.
I crossed the yard to her.
“Linda, it’s time we had a heart-to-heart,” I said.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She took my hand and led me away to a quieter spot. Then she said the most unexpected thing.
“Linda, it’s time we had a heart-to-heart.”
For the first time, her face softened.
“You’re a wonderful woman, Caroline,” she said in a low voice, “and I’m worried my father is deceiving you.”
“What are you talking about?”
She glanced back toward the main gathering. When she looked back at me, her eyes were filled with tears.
“I can’t just stand by and watch this anymore. He’s not who he says he is. The man you married died 20 years ago. Come to the basement. I’ll show you everything.”
“My father is deceiving you.”
She started toward the back door.
After a moment’s hesitation, I followed her.
The basement smelled like dust and damp cardboard. In the far corner sat a scratched metal box.
“It’s in here.” Linda’s hands shook as she unlocked it.
Inside were photographs, envelopes, and yellowed documents. She handed me a photo first.
“This is a photo I took of my father, 23 years ago.”
In the far corner sat a scratched metal box.
It was Arthur, but he looked different. His smile was softer, and his posture was more open.
“I don’t understand…”
“Maybe this will explain it.”
She passed me another photograph. In this one, two young men stood side by side with matching faces and different expressions. Twins.
“He never told me he had a twin brother,” I said.
“Nobody told me either.” Linda held out two documents. “Arthur and Michael. Nobody in our family ever talked about Michael. He must’ve done something terrible to get kicked out of the family.”
I stared at Linda. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Nobody told me either.”
Linda sighed. “When I was 18, Dad went away for a week on business. When he came back, he wasn’t right. He forgot things, suddenly developed weird habits, and didn’t even speak the same way. And whenever I questioned it, he made me feel crazy.”
She certainly sounded crazy, but I didn’t interrupt.
“He said I was confusing things because I hadn’t processed my mother’s death. I started to believe him. Then, a year ago, I found this.”
She handed me the last document.
My knees nearly gave way.
She certainly sounded crazy.
Every memory I’d made with Arthur rearranged itself in my mind with sickening speed as I reread the words on that page.
“It ends now,” I said.
Gripping the documents in trembling hands, I marched back upstairs.
The party was still going on. Someone laughed near the drinks table. Plates clinked.
I walked straight toward him.
He smiled. “There you are. I was wondering where—”
“Arthur, I need you to explain this.” I held up the last document Linda had given me.
“It ends now.”
The blood drained from Arthur’s face. “Where did you get that?”
“That’s not an answer! This,” I shook the document, “is your death certificate. How is it possible that I just married a dead man?”
“What?” Someone yelled.
Arthur glanced around. Then something changed in his face — not panic, not outrage, just exhaustion. He pulled out a chair and sat down.
“I suppose this was always going to come out, eventually. I’m not Arthur. I’m Michael. But I swear, I only took his place because it’s what he wanted.”
“What are you talking about?” Linda demanded.
It’s what he wanted.”
“I became estranged from my family in my late 20s. I was involved with some people they considered dangerous. Arthur stayed in touch secretly. Twenty years ago, Arthur came to see me. There was an accident…”
“What kind of accident? Something to do with your dangerous friends?” Linda asked.
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