He's Just a Substitute that Doesn't Matter Free Preview

The atmosphere was dense with muffled sounds of exertion and hurried breathing, creating a sense of confinement within the dimly lit room, thickened by the intimacy shared between the two. Steam obscured the glass as their heated exhales merged in the warm, humid air.

Addison Daves' eyes glistened with unshed tears, her delicate fingers instinctively exploring the firm contours of Lance Johnston's back as his breaths quickened beneath her touch.

After what felt like an eternity steeped in this charged tension, footsteps resonated from outside, heralding an approaching departure.

Addison turned her attention to the slightly intoxicated man in front of her, her breath catching in her throat as she shifted her gaze away from the glistening sweat dotting Lance's nose. His warm breath fluttered against her collarbone, sending a cascade of chills racing down her spine.

"Grandpa's gone ... " Addison reminded him softly, her voice gentle as she signaled that it was time to end the charade.

Lance seemed unaware, lost in a daze as he fixated on Addison, his eyes clouded and unfocused, making it nearly impossible to discern his thoughts.

"Virginia ... "

His voice, deep and rough like sandpaper scraping against the shore, carried an undeniable allure that pulled her in.

He reached out slowly, his hand gliding to caress Addison's cheek.

Without makeup to accentuate her features, Addison's lips shone a vivid crimson, a stark contrast to her delicate, upturned nose, now flushed with a hint of yearning.

His presence surrounded her, his voice weaving through the space like a silken thread, and she heard the name "Virginia" slip from his lips.

A name that belonged to another woman.

She gazed into Lance's eyes, shrouded in a dense fog, yet she recognized the familiar handsome features that had once captivated her. In a moment of impulsive passion, she leaned closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

She didn't care.

Her gaze remained locked on Lance, his eyes like deep wells pulling forth memories of the man she had once longed for with all her heart.

But suddenly, reality jolted her back as she noted the proximity of Lance's face, feeling a churning unease in her stomach.

Before she could push him away, Lance's expression shifted, the fog dispersing to reveal sharp clarity.

With an abrupt motion, he shoved her away.

Caught off guard, Addison stumbled back, her legs momentarily giving way as she wobbled on the brink of falling.

Feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him, Lance instinctively reached out to steady her, but stopped short as he replayed the earlier scene in his mind. His expression darkened, and he withdrew his hand before redirecting his attention to his crumpled shirt, still rumpled and disheveled.

Addison felt little in response to his sudden movement. Once she regained her balance, she regarded him with a warm gaze, void of any anger.

"Lance, are you feeling alright?" Despite being so roughly pushed away, her instinct was still to check on him.

She tolerated all his behaviors, whether they were good or bad, and no matter how extreme his actions, Addison remained composed, never allowing resentment to surface. She would always forgive him, and it was evident to everyone that she was hopelessly in love with Lance.

Yet, everyone also understood that Addison was merely a placeholder.

To those around them, she was the punchline of a cruel joke, willingly playing the role of the substitute while deeply in love with Lance, yet unable to win his true affection, as his heart still belonged to his so-called first love.

People felt pity for Addison, ensnared in the darkness, unaware she was simply a substitute in Lance's life.

She was a woman filled with hazy dreams of love, having long since relinquished her self-respect, ultimately becoming the target of ridicule.

"Addison, let's get a divorce."

As Lance finished straightening his shirt, he unexpectedly blurted out the words without preamble.

"Virginia's back. We shouldn't have any ties between us anymore," he continued, unyielding.

Addison fell silent.

Lance didn't bother gauging her reaction, fully aware she would resist and likely plead for him to reconsider. What he needed to focus on now was finding a way to finalize the divorce smoothly.

He had made promises to Virginia Dolton, a commitment he felt he must uphold as a man.

Realizing his tone might have been too harsh and somewhat cruel toward Addison, a girl already alone in the world, he reconsidered. She had finally found a semblance of a home, and suddenly suggesting divorce would undoubtedly deliver a tremendous blow.

Moreover, Addison had loved him for so many years; she wouldn't easily accept a divorce.

He sensed that to leave, he needed to soften his approach.

His voice turned gentle, imbued with warmth as he lowered it.

"As compensation, I'll give you a check. Write down whatever amount you want. Honestly, I don't know how much it would take to make it up to you, so just write what you think is fair."

For an ordinary person, this was a significant temptation, and he figured Addison would likely not refuse.

"I never made you work after marrying into the Johnstons. If you want a job, you can choose any position at any company under the Johnstons umbrella."

If she wanted to pursue a career, the Johnstons could provide that for her, as long as she could finalize the divorce!

Since marrying into the Johnstons, Addison had epitomized the role of a gentle and devoted wife; he knew she had played that role flawlessly.

She had been the model of decorum, calm yet resolute. At social gatherings, she stood out among the other women, making them appear ordinary in comparison.

She had handled everything exceptionally well. She had endured so much. Even when he treated her poorly, she still loved him.

But she would never be Virginia. Virginia was returning home, and it was time for Addison to go.

He understood Addison would likely cry and plead for him to stay, her heart breaking, but in his mind, she had no rightful place.

"I can give you whatever you want, no matter what it is. You—" Lance looked at Addison, his voice gentle yet filled with certainty.

However, his sentence was suddenly interrupted by a soft but resolute response.

"Okay," she said.

Addison unexpectedly interrupted Lance, a bold move that marked the first time she had ever cut him off mid-sentence.

It was one of those rare occasions when he addressed her with kindness.

Despite the harsh implications of his words, she hardly registered the sting.

With his first love back in town, she sensed that her time in this role had reached its end.

Addison felt she had contributed more than enough to the Johnstons, leaving her with no obligations to them or to the memories of that man.

It was time for her to awaken from this illusion.

Lance instinctively raised his eyes to meet hers. Her gaze was as tranquil as still water, calm and unyielding.

The words he had prepared caught in his throat as he stared at Addison, surprised by her demeanor.

She remained collected and composed, just as she had throughout their marriage, radiating a sense of serenity and reassurance. Her steady voice responded as if she were answering a mundane question like, "What's for dinner?"

So she just accepted this? No tears ... no desperate pleas?

A surge of frustration coursed through Lance.

He resented feeling this way, as if his emotions were being swayed by someone else, especially when he was so firm in his own choices.

This calm acceptance ... He scrutinized Addison, hoping to glimpse a flicker of sadness in her eyes. Surely, she must be putting on a brave front.

How can she be so composed about ending our marriage when she loves me so deeply?

But there was no sign of pretense in Addison's serene expression, no indication of any inner turmoil, as if the passionate love they once shared had never existed.

Embarrassed, he averted his gaze.

"I'll go over the divorce details with you tomorrow," Lance said, pulling on his jacket, his face shadowed with unease.

What kind of game is she playing? Nevertheless, I'm determined to end this relationship!

"Tomorrow morning, when Grandpa asks, just tell him I'm on a business trip," he instructed, casting a solemn look at Addison, his mood heavy with gloom.

"Okay," she replied softly.

Inside, however, she was not entirely at peace; divorcing Lance meant relinquishing her last glimmer of hope.

It also meant saying goodbye to the memories of that other person for good.

Virginia's return had simply hastened the inevitable.

Seeing Addison's indifferent reaction, Lance cast a few glances in her direction, noticing she was emotionally unresponsive. His complexion had turned pale as he turned to leave.

Once Lance was out of sight, Addison quietly stood up to take a shower.

Just then, Lana Rigardo, the maid, returned from grocery shopping and unexpectedly encountered a serious-looking Lance.

He seemed cold, his demeanor matching his expression, exuding an unmistakable air of tension and oppression.

"Mr. Johnston, where are you headed at this hour? Aren't you staying for breakfast tomorrow? Mrs. Johnston specifically asked me to buy your favorite ingredients since she knew you were back today," Lana said.

Lance glanced at Lana, who was carrying a large plastic bag brimming with fresh produce, with vibrant greens peeking out from the top.

Addison's vegetable noodles tasted just like the ones Virginia prepared.

Just the other day, he had expressed to Addison his craving for her vegetable noodles.

Lance's thoughts flashed back to Addison's calm eyes.

His mood darkened as realization struck. What is this woman up to?

He didn't respond to Lana, instead walking over to his luxury car and speeding off. The vehicle shot out toward the exit, making a sharp turn as the tires screeched, leaving behind two clear tracks on the road, which reflected his brooding state of mind.

Lana shook her head, noticing Lance's expression; it was likely he was thinking about Virginia again.

Only Virginia could evoke such a strong emotional reaction from Lance. Though he usually seemed distant, he rarely lost his temper.

She had observed the way Lance looked whenever he thought of Virginia, and it mirrored his current demeanor.

Whenever he was preoccupied with thoughts of Virginia, Addison invariably suffered. Lana wondered how Addison was doing now.

Since Lance had married her, one would expect him to treat her better. Yet since Addison entered the picture, he hadn't shown her any kindness.

Reflecting on the gentle and virtuous Addison, Lana felt a sense of injustice on her behalf. Mrs. Johnston is truly a wonderful person, yet Mr. Johnston fails to see her value—there will undoubtedly come a day when he regrets it.

Lance felt a surge of frustration as he navigated the road when suddenly, his phone rang, interrupting his thoughts.

He answered the call with an impatient tone.

"Mr. Lance, there's been an issue with your grandfather!" Lana's frantic voice crackled through the speaker.

In an instant, Lance slammed on the brakes and executed a sharp U-turn, heading straight for the mansion.

Ten minutes later, he arrived at the sprawling estate.

Inside, Steven Johnston lay unconscious, having just been revived by the family doctor. The effects of the anesthesia lingered, leaving him still unresponsive.

Addison stood vigil at Steven's bedside. Despite the impending divorce, she felt compelled to be there, a principle rooted in her upbringing by the Daves, her esteemed family.

The Daves were known for their high standards and sense of propriety, and although she hadn't returned to her family home in years, those values had remained firmly etched in her heart.

Pale against the stark white sheets, Steven appeared fragile, with only a hint of color gracing his lips, resembling a small child in his helplessness.

Lance stormed into the room, his emotions running high.

But upon seeing Addison beside Steven's sickbed, he found a semblance of calm amidst the chaos.

Addison's presence provided him solace; she had a remarkable ability to remain composed during crises, allowing him to feel somewhat at ease in her company.

However ...

Once he regained his composure, Lance cast a sidelong glance at Addison, a cynical smirk creeping onto his lips.

She had displayed such indifference earlier, yet here she was, rushing to attend to Steven. It appeared she couldn't entirely sever her ties after all.

Her previous bravado regarding their divorce seemed to be nothing more than a mask.

"Mr. Lance, Mr. Johnston is experiencing one of his recurring issues; he requires attentive care and adequate rest," the doctor said respectfully upon noticing Lance's arrival.

Lance's face remained impassive as he waved the doctor away, dismissing him with a gesture.

Silently, he positioned himself behind Addison, his gaze fixed on his grandfather, his expression inscrutable.

"Grandpa needs someone to look after him," Lance leaned closer to Addison, whispering in her ear, the meaning unmistakable.

With Addison tending to Steven, she certainly understood his hidden message.

As he stood near her, he caught a whiff of her perfume—something he hadn't registered before in their shared space. It was a cool, woody scent intertwined with the fragrance of dried flowers.

She had changed her perfume.

No longer was it the soft, sweet aroma that reminded him of Virginia's favorite fragrance. Addison had been using that ever since he said he liked it.

A wave of confusion swept over Lance; he suddenly found Addison hard to decipher.

His earlier certainty about her attachment to the Johnstons was finally waning.

"I'll carefully select the best nurse to care for Grandpa tomorrow," Addison replied softly, seemingly unaware of the deeper implications behind Lance's words.

"Why don't you take care of Grandpa yourself?" Lance cut to the chase, laying his intentions bare.

"We won't proceed with the divorce just yet; Grandpa's health is fragile. Once he recovers, we can move forward with the divorce. For now, you should look after him."

His voice held an unmistakable authority.

He was confident that Addison wouldn't refuse.

This was an opportunity for her; she would be hard-pressed to decline an offer that could help her save face.

"Why?" Addison turned to meet Lance's gaze, her tone icy, as if she were no longer part of the Johnston family. Her eyes were devoid of emotion, dark and profound.

"Why should I care for your grandfather? Why should we delay the divorce?" She repeated her questions as if she feared Lance hadn't heard her, each word measured and deliberate.

"We're already set to divorce; why should I care for a Johnston?"

"Addison, do you even grasp what you're saying?" Lance's usually stoic demeanor cracked, revealing his fury.

How dare she challenge me!

This was the first time Addison had openly opposed him.

He had never felt such anger before; she was the first to ignite such a blaze within him.

"Don't push me."

Lance grasped Addison's chin, forcing her to look into his piercing eyes.

Addison felt the intensity of his fury, thick and palpable in the air.

But why should his anger matter to her?

The moment he had initiated the divorce, she had chosen to end it all.

Yes, she felt a sense of sorrow for that person in her memories and wished to make amends.

But after everything she had done for the Johnstons, she owed them nothing!

With his first love back in town, why should he still cling to her? This man was truly one to want it all—having his cake and eating it too.

Breaking free from Lance's grip, she strode to a nearby chair, retrieved her bag, and exited the room without uttering a single word.

The slender figure of the woman gradually disappeared from Lance's line of sight.

Addison made her way back to her room on the upper floor, not planning to gather her belongings. She had no intention of taking anything from the Johnstons; what she wanted was a clean break.

Tomorrow, she intended to purchase a house and move out first, then see how Lance reacted. She understood that the divorce process would take time, and she was eager to leave this place behind.

After mentally organizing her thoughts, Addison settled into bed and drifted off to sleep.

In her dreams, she revisited the day she first met that person.

It was a sultry summer afternoon, the sun blazing fiercely above.

Keith Dean had called her to bring water to the basketball court.

The sky was a brilliant blue, devoid of clouds, and a heavy stillness hung in the air. The sun's relentless heat caused beads of sweat to form on her brow, while the trees lining the court appeared sluggish and listless, mirroring her own fatigue.

As she approached, the raucous cheers from the court intensified. Boys clad in basketball jerseys played energetically, sweat glistening on their skin.

In an instant, she spotted him—his youthful figure stood out against the bright sunlight, clad in a white jersey, perfectly embodying the spirit of youth.

In that moment, all the surrounding noise faded, leaving only the sound of Addison's heartbeat echoing in her ears.

A sudden breeze swept through, and the boy's face, which bore an uncanny resemblance to Lance's, seemed to dissolve into the air, leaving her standing there, bewildered on the court.

Abruptly, the noise surged back, the lively chatter rising around her like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf her. Addison felt as if she were suffocating, gasping for air as though she had plunged into frigid water. The chaotic voices crashed over her like turbulent waves, filling her lungs and dragging her under. It felt as if the last breath of air had been cruelly snatched away by the icy depths.

Her heart raced, and she jolted awake in bed.

Are you blaming me?

Blaming me for mistaking him for you? For fooling myself?

No, you probably resent me for arriving late, right? If only I had shown up just a moment sooner, you wouldn't have left me.

If I could have been just a fraction faster ...

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she reached up to wipe them away. Drying one side only caused the other to spill over, and soon, she could no longer contain her sorrow, burying her face in her hands and weeping.

Time slipped away from her, and as her sobs gradually subsided, Addison felt a sense of calm return.

She couldn't linger any longer. In a rush, she grabbed her phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Come pick me up now."

As she exited the villa, a sleek black Rolls-Royce awaited her at the curb.

A bodyguard stepped out of the car, respectfully opening the door for her.

Once inside, she turned to the man seated next to her and announced, "I'm getting a divorce."

The man wore a crisp white shirt, his collar casually unbuttoned, exuding an air of sophistication, his legs crossed comfortably atop a pair of dark red-soled designer shoes.

"Congratulations! It was about time!" He smirked, clearly amused.

"Ever since you joined the Johnstons, I can't even coax you out for a night anymore. I'm all alone now," he teased, his grin unwavering.

"Come on. Without me, do you really think you won't be entertained?

"You'll probably enjoy yourself even more!" Addison shot back, her words unrestrained.

Three years had gone by, yet this guy hadn't changed a bit!

Seeing her old friend again lifted Addison's spirits considerably.

"Stay at my place tonight. I still have my villa over by Serene Hill, and it's empty. If you don't mind, you can crash there for a while," Keith offered with a friendly smile.

"That sounds good. I'll stay for now and look for a new place tomorrow. I can't keep living at your place," Addison replied after a moment of thought.

There were too many women around Keith. If she lingered too long, she might unintentionally stir jealousy among his admirers ...

Just the thought sent shivers down her spine.

Besides, she had more than enough funds to buy her own home.

Keith nodded and then handed Addison his phone, his tone bubbling with excitement. "It's time for you to rediscover yourself; we're all eager to see you back."

The faces of the board members appeared on the phone screen, greeting her warmly.

As Addison recognized each familiar face, a rush of emotions swept over her, and she nodded at them one by one.

Once she finalized the divorce, it seemed imperative to reclaim her identity and return to her career.

After three years of suppressing her true self and supporting Lance, she felt she had done more than enough.

Addison exchanged brief pleasantries with the board members before ending the call.

"How are my parents? It's been three years since I last saw them. I can only imagine how they've been ... " She cast a wistful glance at Keith, memories washing over her.

"They're doing well; you shouldn't worry about them. When you decided to stay with the Johnstons, did you even consider how Mr. and Mrs. Johnston were faring?" Keith quipped, a teasing grin lighting up his face.

"Okay, enough with the jokes," Addison replied, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance.

"Let's get moving; I'm exhausted and ready for bed."

The lighthearted atmosphere that had accompanied her departure from the Johnstons vanished instantly.

Keith remained unchanged ...

Soon enough, the vehicle pulled up to a grandly adorned mansion.

In good spirits, Addison freshened up, planning to hit the mall the following day for clothes and essentials, having left everything behind at the Johnstons. Out with the old, in with the new. After that, she would explore potential houses.

Meanwhile, Lance received a call from Virginia.

"Lance, I'm back!" Her sweet voice resonated through the phone.

The familiar voice ignited a spark in Lance's heart. "Send me your location, and I'll come to pick you up."

After hanging up, Lance's gaze shifted to Lana, who quickly grasped the situation and replied respectfully, "Mr. Lance, please go ahead and pick up Ms. Dolton. I'll take care of Mr. Johnston."

Why has Ms. Dolton returned so suddenly? And what about Mrs. Johnston? Lana wondered as she responded.

Twenty minutes later, a Rolls Royce arrived at the airport entrance, its headlights cutting through the twilight. It was surrounded by a row of bodyguards standing at attention as a man emerged from the vehicle.

Virginia looked up to find him silhouetted against the setting sun, his handsome face as striking as she remembered, radiating an air of cold intensity.

As he approached, step by step, Virginia's smile was radiant, yet a flicker of anxiety and guilt flashed across her features. "Lance, you're here! I've missed you so much!"

Three years apart must have really affected him; Virginia felt uncertain about how he would react to her return.

Lance regarded the familiar woman, his expression subtly shifting as he prepared to speak, only to be interrupted by her sudden movement.

Virginia seemed a bit unsteady, swaying slightly and appearing fragile. "Lance, I have a slight headache."

Seeing her delicate form, Lance's initial questions faded away.

"Let's get you in the car."

The bodyguards quickly stepped in, opening the door for Virginia and assisting her inside.

Before she could settle into her seat, she lunged forward to embrace Lance, her voice quivering. "Lance, I thought I'd never see you again.

"Lance, I've thought about you every day while I was away," she added, gripping his arm tightly as if fearing he might push her away.

"Don't worry, Lance. I'm back for good this time. The reason I left without saying anything was that my mother was seriously ill and had no one to care for her. She has since passed ... " Virginia lowered her gaze, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Lance's heart ached at Virginia's sorrowful explanation, and he couldn't bring himself to say anything harsh. He gently wrapped his strong arms around her back, giving her a light pat in a comforting gesture.

Noticing the petite woman still sobbing in his embrace, Lance tenderly brushed away her tears. "It's alright, Virginia. You have me now. The Johnstons will be your home from now on."

He then handed her a beautifully wrapped gift box, its weight significant in her hands.

Carefully opening the box, Virginia gasped at the sight of a necklace. The blue diamond pendant, roughly the size of a fingernail, was surrounded by a dazzling array of smaller diamonds that sparkled brilliantly.

Virginia caught her breath; this necklace was surely worth millions. Her palms began to sweat.

It seemed the rumors were true—Lance had not only inherited the Johnstons' estate but had also successfully revitalized the struggling company, making it flourish even more than before.

Virginia's innocent smile shone even brighter.

"This is your welcome gift back home, Virginia," Lance said, watching her delight with a tender expression.

"Thank you, Lance!" Feeling reassured by his warmth, Virginia linked her arm through his strong one. "Let's go home."

The car came to a stop in front of the Johnstons' apartment.

"My grandpa hasn't been well lately, and Lana can't manage on her own. You can stay here for now, and once he's better, I'll move you to the mansion," Lance said, holding Virginia's hand with a comforting grip.

As he helped her out of the car, she wobbled slightly, as if a gust of wind could topple her.

"Alright, Lance, don't worry; I can take care of myself," she insisted, gripping his hand tightly, her eyes revealing a fragile vulnerability that tugged at his heartstrings.

"You must have been busy caring for your mother while you were away and didn't have time for yourself. Your old problems must have worsened," he remarked, retrieving a blanket from the car and draping it over her shoulders.

"You need to take good care of yourself. I've been swamped with work, but I'll bring over a few reliable staff from the Johnston Residence to assist you."

Virginia noticed the unfamiliar scent of perfume lingering on the blanket and frowned slightly, though her face remained cheerful. "Lance, you do your thing; I'm not a child ... "

Lance held her closely, feeling a pang of tenderness.

Once he left, Virginia sat on the edge of the bed, quickly tossing the blanket onto the floor in disgust.

This blanket must belong to that woman; the scent of her infuriating perfume is unbearable!

She then pulled a maid, Francesca Cooke, closer, a sweet smile gracing her face.

"Francesca, can I see a picture of Ms. Daves?"