I Was Her Stand-In for Four Years

"Robert Anderson, you’ve been using Grace Taylor as your practice for four years, and now, it’s finally paying off, right? In a sea of people, finding someone who looks this much like her isn’t easy. I’ve got to hand it to you, Robert. You’ve got some serious skills."

Practice? Stand-in? What does that even mean? Outside the room, Grace froze, her hand still hovering mid-air, just about to open the door.

Her body was slick with sweat, yet an inexplicable shiver ran down her spine, from her heart to the soles of her feet.

That voice was so familiar—Robert, chuckling softly, said, “In bed, I’ve always treated her like Evelyn Harris.”

Laughter echoed loudly.

"Remember when Evelyn dumped Robert? She said he couldn’t satisfy her, and Robert was really heartbroken for a long time. If you ask me, he was way too infatuated back then, way too inexperienced. But now, after four years of ‘practice,’ seeing Grace cling to you day in and day out, it’s clear how skilled Robert really is.”

A man’s teasing voice followed, “Now that Evelyn’s coming back, your experience is all set, but look at how your precious Grace is acting. Could it be that you’re actually falling for her? The pure love and the little obsession—why not go for both, right? Didn’t you say Grace was easy to handle?”

Through the cracked door, Robert lifted his foot, laughing as he kicked the man away. “Get lost. A tool is just a tool. How could she compare to Evelyn? A few more days of fun, and when Evelyn returns, I’ll toss her aside without a second thought.”

The buzzing in her head wouldn’t stop, and Grace dug her nails into her palm, but felt no pain.

Wiping the tears from her face, she staggered, lost, and turned away.

The wind howled outside, and the snow continued to fall.

Her mind was a storm of confusion. Suddenly, she remembered her third year of college when she first met Robert—it had been another snowy day.

She and Robert’s sister, Linda, were classmates and also best friends.

In the biting cold, Grace and Linda were having a snowball fight under their dorm building, and when Grace slipped and fell, she landed in someone’s arms.

Robert, who had been looking for Linda, stared at her face for a long while. From that moment, his relentless pursuit began.

For Grace, who had never been in a relationship, it seemed only natural that she’d be moved by him—not just because of his handsome face.

There was the coat he draped over her in the spring rain, the way his eyes shone like stars under the summer night sky.

In late autumn, when he gently wiped the medicine on the cut on her forehead with trembling hands, even the wind stopped, and the warm sun shone on that moment, forever lighting up her youth.

In winter, he gave her a scarf, hiding the little cuts on his hand from making it. She laughed, unable to imagine a man in a suit knitting a scarf.

Once they were together, he treated her even better, but he never publicly acknowledged their relationship. When she occasionally asked about it, he would gently caress her face and change the subject with a deep kiss.

But now she knew the truth—he had always been in love with someone else. She, Grace, had just been a tool for him to practice with.

Her thoughts were scattered as she walked aimlessly, not paying attention to her surroundings. The rush of wind from an approaching truck knocked her into the shards of glass at the bar’s entrance. The sting of pain on her cheek made her lower her head to see blood pouring from her hands.

Had she really hurt her face? If Robert knew, he would surely feel ‘heartbroken,’ right? After all, this was why he had pursued her in the first place.

Grace pressed her hand to her face and staggered toward the nearest hospital. She had a blood clotting disorder, and she feared the bleeding wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t risk passing out here and becoming another casualty, ruining someone else’s life forever.

The doctor furrowed his brows as he tended to the wound on her face. “Miss Taylor, you need to be more careful. You must avoid injury at all costs.”

She didn’t even know how she made it home. When she saw the framed photo, all the suppressed emotions poured out of her. She swept everything off the table, collapsed to the floor, and finally broke down in tears.

Four years of her youth—gone.

The shattered photo frame showed a smiling nineteen-year-old girl, carefree and happy, while the man beside her, wearing a coat, looked at her with a soft gaze full of affection.

She didn’t know how long she cried, until no more tears could come. Then, her phone rang, startling her in the silence of the room.

Peter Taylor’s number. Listening to the concerned voice on the other end, Grace croaked, “Brother, I’ve agreed to the marriage arrangement with the Clark family.”