Traded for His Other Woman / Chapter 3: Breaking Free
Traded for His Other Woman

Traded for His Other Woman

Author: Daniel Howard


Chapter 3: Breaking Free

3

Derek’s a doctor at the county hospital. He only got into Maple Heights Medical Center because he was my dad’s future son-in-law. My dad always believed in giving people a hand up, not a handout.

But what if Derek wasn’t my dad’s son-in-law?

If he thought I married him to pay off a debt, then I simply wouldn’t marry him. The thought made my heart race—scared and relieved at once.

I went to my aunt’s house and told her everything. Her kitchen smelled like cinnamon and black coffee, the linoleum floor cool beneath my sneakers.

She was thrilled. “I always said that boy was cold to you—not a good match.” She patted my hand and poured me a cup of Folgers, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

She called my uncle at the county clerk’s office. “You’re better off, kid,” he said in his gravelly voice, after canceling the marriage license before it was filed.

When I got home, dusk had fallen. Fireflies blinked in the yard, streetlights flickered on. The house glowed, but felt like a stage set—never a home.

Laughter drifted out. Aubrey and Derek sat together, heads close. Dinner—mac and cheese, fried chicken—sat on chipped plates.

“Derek, have some fish. Once we go to Maple Heights, we won’t have hometown dishes anymore.”

Derek smiled, picking out fish bones and dropping meat in Aubrey’s bowl.

“You should eat more too.”

They exchanged glances and smiled, like family. I watched from the doorway, invisible.

Derek’s mom spotted me first. “Natalie, honey, you want to join us?”

The room went silent, like I’d shattered their cozy world. The air was thick with everything left unsaid.

I ignored them and went to my room. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet, and for a moment, I thought I might collapse.

Someone snorted; the living room grew lively again. TV laughter mixed with real laughter, making it all feel unreal.

They talked about Aubrey’s dreams for Maple Heights, Derek chiming in, his mom laughing and scolding them for not eating right. It was a Hallmark scene—except I was the extra who never got a close-up.

I acted like I heard nothing and started packing. The zipper on my suitcase stuck halfway. I yanked it free, blinking back tears. Every shirt I folded felt like saying goodbye to the life I thought I’d have.

Suddenly, I noticed the tin box on my nightstand had been moved. A cold shiver crawled up my spine. The air in my room felt heavy, like a storm about to break.

A bad feeling crept in. I opened the box—the pocket watch was gone. It was my last piece of Dad. I clutched the empty tin, panic clawing at my throat.

I tore through drawers, flipped over cushions, even checked behind the radiator and under the loose floorboard where I hid Christmas money as a kid. My heart thudded against my ribs—the watch was gone.

The comments blew up: [Not the pocket watch! He gave it to the other girl, didn’t he? She’ll "accidentally" break it in front of Natalie. This hurts.]

I felt like I’d been doused in ice water.

I rushed out, footsteps pounding on hardwood. My anger was barely in check.

“Derek, did you take my pocket watch?”

Aubrey twirled the chain in her fingers, grinning. “Guess I’ll use it to make sure I’m never late for class. Kinda old-school, but it’s cute.”

My hands shook. I stared at Derek, barely recognizing him. How could he give away the only thing I had left of my father?

“What right do you have to give away my things?”

Derek used to polish the watch until his fingers turned raw, promising me it would tick again. Back then, I thought that meant something.

That watch was my anchor. After my dad died saving Derek, he made Derek give it to me. I remembered the day—the mud, the sirens, the rescue workers, the hush as the watch changed hands.

The watch had been soaked and nearly ruined. Derek scrubbed it with a toothbrush for hours, his fingers red and raw. He’d scraped together spare change from his after-school job at the gas station to get it fixed, even though the watchmaker said it wasn’t worth repairing.

Even when Derek turned cold, I’d always softened remembering that. But now, it felt like someone else’s life.

Derek looked uncomfortable, fiddling with his keys, refusing to meet my eyes.

His mom rushed over, grabbing my hand in her fake-comfort way. Her grip was tight, her smile brittle. “It’s just an old watch. Derek’ll buy you a new one and send it back later.”

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