And the photos.
I clicked on one, hands shaking.
A woman stared back at me. Brown hair. Green eyes. My nose. My lips. My exact same face.
But it wasn't me.
The background was a beach I'd never visited. She wore a dress I didn't own. Her smile was mine but different — more confident, more relaxed.
I scrolled through more photos. Her in his apartment — our apartment now. Her cooking in his kitchen. Her sleeping in his bed.
My bed.
She looked so much like me that if someone showed me these photos, I'd swear they were mine. Same height, same build, same everything.