The Dead Moonlight, Ten Years of Lies

I gave up on my dreams to live in a cramped, rented studio with my wife for ten years. Finally, the day of our wedding arrived.

But on that day, she said she had an emergency. She abandoned me and left in a hurry without looking back.

I waited all day while the guests whispered in confusion and mocked me behind my back.

I waited until she posted a photo on her social media, holding a trophy for Best Director.

She wrote a caption for her dead first love, the man she called her "white moonlight."

Sebastian, after all these years, I've finally fulfilled your dream.

In that moment, everything clicked.

These ten years had been nothing but a cruel scam.

01.

When Andrea called me, I was staring blankly at the trending topics online.

Famous Director Returns After Ten Years! Her Masterpiece is a Tribute to Her Late First Love!

Director Andrea Sterling Wins Gold! She Claims Her Inspiration Came from a Friend Who Closely Resembles Her Departed Lover!

The headlines made my blood run cold. On the other end of the line, Andrea's voice was nonchalant.

"Lucas, I really had an emergency today. The Awards ceremony doesn't wait for anyone. You should be able to understand that, right?"

When I didn't respond, she paused before speaking again. "Don't look at the trending news. Those reporters just write trash for clicks."

"I'm coming home soon. Fix me some warm honey-lemon tea. Remember to slice the lemons very thin. Last time they were too thick, and Sebastian's mother couldn't drink it..."

Andrea was still rambling on, but I suddenly cut her off.

"Andrea, let's get a divorce."

There was a moment of absolute silence on the other end. Then, her voice exploded with rage, and she began lecturing me.

"Lucas, are you serious right now? Is this really necessary? So I missed the weddingDso what? This ceremony only happens once in a lifetime. We can have a wedding any day! Don't be so dramatic!"

"I've already told the planners to reschedule. Go pay the deposit later tonight..."

Listening to her entitled voice, I felt nothing but a sharp, bitter irony.

For ten years of marriage, I had centered my entire world around Andrea.

The moment something didn't go her way, she would lash out and blame me exactly like this.

In the past, to save our relationship, I would always swallow my pride and beg for her forgiveness.

But now, I was just tired.

I rubbed my temples and repeated myself firmly.

"I'm serious. I've already printed the divorce papers. Make sure you sign them later."

Realizing my tone was different this time, Andrea's voice softened for a split second.

"Lucas, the wedding was your idea anyway. I just had a scheduling conflict. It's actually your fault for not coordinating the time better."

"I said I'd do it again with you. This award is incredibly important for my career. Stop throwing a tantrum."

"A grown man talking about divorce all the time is honestly pathetic."

A month ago, the movie Andrea directedDa story based on our ten-year romance called An Island in My HeartDbecame a massive hit.

Because of this film, she won the Best Director award this year.

When she heard she won, Andrea was in the dressing room, wearing her wedding gown and getting her makeup done.

Yet, she didn't hesitate for a second to ditch me and all our guests to rush to the ceremony.

On the big screen, she had clutched her trophy and sobbed, recounting the struggles of her creative journey.

She even publicly admitted on her social media that the new movie was a tribute to the dream of her first love, Sebastian, who died ten years ago.

That was when I realized I was just a placeholder for her dead lover.

Thinking back on every detail of our decade together, I saw Sebastian's shadow in everything.

My heart felt numb with pain. I told Andrea, "If it's so pathetic, let's stop being together. Go find your Sebastian. He's the one who matters, right?"

Those words seemed to hit a nerve, and she snapped instantly.

"How dare you even mention Sebastian?"

"You're jealous of a dead man? You're delusional! I must have been insane to marry someone like you!"

"You want a divorce? Fine! I'll give it to you!"

02.

Andrea hung up the phone.

A second later, she messaged me a copy of a divorce settlement.

I looked at the terms; she essentially wanted me to leave with nothing but the clothes on my back.

Even though I knew she didn't love me, seeing those words felt like a thousand knives stabbing my chest.

And yet, she was the one who had pursued me first.

Ten years ago, I met Andrea at a high-end investment gala. Back then, she had won one minor award but hadn't produced anything significant since.

In a room full of elites, she was ignored and rejected. She didn't even have a seat at a table and was staring hungrily at the steak on my plate.

I bought her a meal. The next moment, she was in tears, gripping my hand and asking if I would be the lead in her next film.

I turned her down, but she started appearing everywhere in my life.

When it was cold, she reminded me to dress warmly. When it rained, she brought me an umbrella.

Even the lunch boxes I ate every day were made by her hand.

I was moved by her devotion and fell in love. We were married within a year.

After the wedding, Andrea had no income. I invited her to move into my house, but she claimed she didn't want to live off me and insisted we rent a place together.

For ten years, my income grew, but every penny went toward buying her filming equipment. Even the money for the wedding was scraped together from my personal savings.

And Andrea had destroyed my lifelong dream for the sake of a trophy.

I still remember the way her eyes lit up when she got that phone call, and the way she couldn't wait to leave me alone at our own wedding.

And then there was her speech, where she choked up while talking about her deep bond with Sebastian.

It sounded much more profound than anything we had shared in ten years.

All the strange, illogical things in our daily life suddenly made sense.

I grew up in the suburbs and hated spicy food, yet Andrea always forced me to eat at fiery Mexican joints.

She bought me countless white button-down shirts that I hated wearing.

She even ignored my alcohol sensitivity and bought me heavy colognes that made my head spin and my stomach churn.

I had protested. I had refused.

Every time, Andrea would give me the cold shoulder.

Then, when I finally gave in, she would offer me a small, pitying smile.

Now, looking at the public records of Sebastian Young, I realized he was the one who loved white shirts, spicy food, and that specific cologne.

I was nothing more than a ghost living in his shadow.

Yes, the wedding was my idea.

But Andrea, you were the one who suggested we get married in the beginning.

For this wedding, I lived frugally for years. I wouldn't even buy a new coat for the winter, only to be told I was being "dramatic."

Andrea, I'm exhausted.

This relationship ends today.

03.

I signed the papers and left them in the most obvious spot in the house.

Then, I called a realtor to cancel the lease on this apartment.

After the divorce, I planned to go abroad and finally pursue my dream of professional photography.

For years, I had stayed in the city working a soul-sucking design job I hated, just to earn enough to give her a better life.

I didn't need to do that anymore.

The realtor didn't pick up, but Andrea came home.

She placed her massive trophy in the center of the living room like it was a holy relic. She didn't even notice I was packing.

It wasn't until I dragged my suitcase into the living room that her face twisted in annoyance.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Did you make that honey-lemon tea like I asked? Sebastian's mother is waiting!"

Clearly, she had already erased our earlier fight from her mind.

I didn't say a word. I kept moving toward the door, but Andrea couldn't wait and stormed into the kitchen.

When she saw the stove was cold and the counters were empty, she lost it.

"Lucas, what is wrong with you? Didn't I tell you she needed that tea?"

"The seasons are changing and her throat is sore. Can't you be useful for once?"

"Move! Go to the market and get the freshest lemons. Make sure the skins are thin so they're sweet and easy to digest."

Andrea barked orders at me like I was a servant.

She didn't care about my feelings at all.

My heart felt like a block of ice.

After we got married, Andrea never took care of me again. Even when I drank myself sick at business dinners and begged her for a simple soup, she refused.

"Lucas, I'm busy. I don't have time for that. Besides, I don't know how to cook."

When I asked about those old lunch boxes, she admitted she had just ordered takeout and plated it herself.

I had been silent then.

For ten years, I thought she just wasn't the domestic type, but now I understood.

It wasn't that she couldn't do it; she just wouldn't do it for me.

I took a deep breath and swallowed the bitterness. But Andrea wasn't done.

She grabbed my suitcase and hurled it onto the floor, screaming.

"Lucas! Enough! It was just one wedding!"

"I already told you I'd give you another one! What more do you want?"

The suitcase cracked open, and my favorite vintage camera shattered into pieces.

Watching my partner of ten years fall apart on the floor, I knelt down with a trembling heart to pick it up. But Andrea kicked it right out the front door.

The camera tumbled down the stairs. The body of the device, already cracked, completely disintegrated. I was shaking, but Andrea remained unmoved.

"You spend all day playing with these junk machines anyway! It's not like you've ever made a name for yourself!"

"I'm doing you a favor by smashing this trash! Now you won't have any distractions!"

My fists clenched tight. For the first time in my life, I interrupted her. "The divorce papers are signed. They're on the table."

"Just sign your part and give them back."

Andrea froze. She turned and saw the documents on the table.

A flash of panic crossed her eyes, and her voice suddenly softened.

"Lucas, I'm sorry about my attitude just now. I apologize."

"But Sebastian's mom is really suffering. Just show some heart and do this one good deed, okay?"

She was pleading with me, but it was all for Sebastian's mother.

I saw her for who she was. I left the broken luggage behind, grabbed my ID and passport, and stood up to leave.

Andrea's patience snapped again. She grabbed a heavy glass from the table and threw it at my head.

"Lucas! You think you're tough? If you walk out that door, don't you dare come back!"

"I'm definitely divorcing you now!"

04.

The glass hit my head, and blood began to bloom across my scalp.

Andrea hesitated for a second, looking like she wanted to call me back. But when she saw I didn't even flinch and kept walking, she screamed another threat.

"Fine! Leave! A pathetic man like you wasted years of my youth anyway!"

"You won't get a single dime from me after this divorce!"

I didn't care what she said.

In ten years of marriage, our joint assets were practically non-existent.

I walked away with nothing, and I was fine with that. I just wanted her gone.

Blood was still trickling down my face as I hailed a cab to the hospital.

The doctor said the wound was deep and needed stitches.

As I waited on a bench, my phone rang.

"Mr. Thorne, about that apartment... I'm afraid we can't process a lease termination."

I frowned, holding a bandage to my head. "Why not?"

The realtor's answer left me stunned.

"We have no record of a rental contract under your name for that address."

"That's impossible!" I argued, pulling out my copy of the lease.

The realtor told me the document in my hand was a forgery.

Not only that, but the apartment I had been "renting" for a decade actually belonged to Andrea Sterling.

It felt like a bolt of lightning hit my brain. I searched frantically for proof, looking through my bank transfers.

The realtor heard the panic in my voice and told me he could check who the recipient of my monthly payments was.

I sat on the hospital bench, heart racing, waiting for the results.

Suddenly, I heard a very familiar voice coming from a partially open hospital door nearby.

"Mom, I made this honey-lemon tea for you myself. The lemons were flown in from a private orchard this morning, and I used the finest honey from my own company. Please, try some."

It was Andrea.

I peered through the gap in the door. Andrea was sitting by a hospital bed, feeding Sebastian's mother from an exquisite porcelain bowl.

I recognized that bowl. I had seen one just like it at a luxury auction with my old boss. It cost a hundred thousand dollars.

Didn't Andrea have no income? How could she afford something so expensive?

Before I could process it, Andrea spoke again.

"Mom, did you get the money I sent this month? Eat whatever you like. Don't worry about saving money for me."

Mrs. Young shook her head. "Not yet. But you should stop sending so much. You're married to Lucas now. Sending money to your ex's mother looks bad. Lucas will be upset."

Andrea snorted with contempt.

"What can he say? He's the one who 'voluntarily' sends the money anyway!"

"Don't worry about him. Since Sebastian is gone, you're my only mother. Let me call Lucas and ask why the payment is late."

As she spoke, my phone began to vibrate in my hand.

A second later, her impatient voice hissed through the receiver.

"Lucas, why haven't you paid the rent this month?"

"Can you stop being so classless? You're stalling on an old lady's rent? Compared to Sebastian, you're truly a disappointment!"

I didn't hear whatever else she said.

I pushed the door open and looked Andrea straight in the eye.

"So, all the rent I've paid for ten years went to supporting Sebastian's mother? Is that right?"

05.

Andrea was completely blindsided by my appearance.

After a second of shock, she started attacking. "Lucas, what the hell? Are you stalking me?"

My voice was deathly cold. "Answer the question!"

Andrea clearly didn't want to talk about it and tried to change the subject.

Mrs. Young sensed the tension and tried to play the peacemaker.

"Lucas, don't be angry. I'm just a lonely old woman who lost her son. Life is hard. Andrea only did it out of respect for Sebastian..."

"Shut up! I wasn't talking to you!" The rage boiling inside me finally spilled over, and I cut the old woman off.

She looked terrified and began to cough violently.

Andrea flew into a rage, patting the woman's back while screaming at me.

"Lucas! Are you insane? She lost her son, she's miserable! Why are you yelling at her?"

"And your rent goes to a landlord! Stop throwing dirt on me and Mrs. Young!"

Andrea refused to admit the truth, and Mrs. Young started whimpering about how I was a bully.

The commotion drew the hospital staff. After hearing a biased version of the story, they started judging me for being cold-hearted.

"That poor woman has suffered enough. Why are you attacking her?"

"Even if Director Andrea gave her money, she's her late fianc's mother. What's wrong with that?"

"You're being completely unreasonable!"

That's when I found out that Andrea had been telling everyone she was Sebastian's fiance.

Thinking about our ten-year marriage that didn't even have a proper ceremony, I wanted to laugh.

"Andrea, if Sebastian is your fianc, then what exactly am I?"

I asked her point-blank.

Andrea remained silent.

The hospital security arrived and began pushing me toward the exit, treating me like a common thug.

In response, I pulled out my marriage certificate.