Nothing Fell Apart by Mark Twain 1
Plain and ordinary as I was, I somehow ended up marrying the brilliant guy next door.
Everyone said my marriage to him was nothing short of a miracle, and that I should be at his beck and call.
I couldn’t disagree.
So while the world watched with envy, I spent years twisting myself into knots just to please him.
I always assumed Vincent married me because I’d saved his life when I was eighteen, running into a fire to pull him out.
But today, on our anniversary, I came home clutching a bouquet of roses, buzzing with excitement—only to walk in on him pinning my aunt, Gianna Haywood, to our bed.
He was kissing her with a mixture of longing and tenderness.
Gianna turned her head away, her voice trembling. “Vince, don’t! Your wife is Becca!”
Vincent gripped her waist, his voice low and frantic. “I only married her to get close to you! And you know it!
“Gianna, I love you. From the moment I first saw you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you!”
Gianna froze, then stopped fighting him.
Slowly, she lowered the strap of her top, baring her bosom. “Vince, I don’t want to hurt Becca… but I can’t help myself. I love you, too. Just for tonight, let me forget everything else.”
Vincent’s eyes burned with desire. He leaned down, unable to wait another second. I stood in the shadows, tears sliding silently down my face.
One was the husband I’d grown up with. The other was the aunt who had raised me on her own—just five years older than me.
They were the two most important people in my life.
I just couldn’t bring myself to make things awkward for them.
So I left the house, feeling hollow and shattered inside.
Then I pulled up the security feed on my phone and watched the two of them entangled until they finally separated. Only then did I step back inside.
When I opened the door, a flicker of guilt crossed Gianna’s face before she took my hand with her usual affection.
Her brow furrowed as she touched my skin. “Your hands are freezing! You know you get cold so easily—why didn’t you put on something warmer?”
Vincent took my hand, about to warm it the way he used to—but when he noticed the sadness in Gianna’s eyes, he let go at once.
Realizing he was being a bit strange, he said, his tone a little too stiff, “You’re hopeless when it comes to taking care of yourself. I’ll run a bath for you. You need to get warm.”
I pretended not to notice and turned to Gianna with a smile. “Gia, when did you get here?”
When Vincent and I first started dating, he’d say, “Becca, Gia didn’t have it easy raising you. We should take her with us when we go out, so she’s not lonely.”
I believed him.
For five years, every anniversary and birthday had been a group event.
“I… I just got here,” Gianna stammered, the tips of her ears turning red. She handed me a gift box. “Becca, happy fifth anniversary. To you and Vincent.”
Inside the box sat a pair of matching rings.
Vincent hated wearing rings; he claimed they got in the way, so when we married, we didn’t even buy wedding bands.
I forced a smile, about to refuse, but Vincent snatched the box before I could.
He steered me toward the bathroom. “Becca, the water is ready. Go get in before it gets cold.”
I managed one last smile for Gianna and stepped into the room.
Before the door could even click shut, Vincent’s lips were on Gianna’s.
He looked desperate and eager, like a teenager with his first crush.
Gianna glanced my way, looking guilty, and I lowered my eyes, shutting the door.
I wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen it, but his longing was impossible to miss.
The warm water enveloped me, but I was shivering uncontrollably.
The wet sounds and panting from the other side of the door sent a sharp, physical pain through my chest.
My fingers shook as I pulled out my phone and called my boss.
“Mr. Gordon, I accept the permanent overseas assignment.”
“Good. Your flight is at three tomorrow afternoon.”
I hung up just as the noises outside stopped.
A relationship couldn’t work with three people.
I would be leaving and letting them have exactly what they wanted.
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