The General's Replacement Doctor Wife

Olivia entered her new room, her worn-out shoes sinking into the plush pink carpet. The space was bigger than any room she'd ever seen, with floor-to-ceiling windows draped in flowing pink curtains and a queen-sized bed topped with a delicate canopy. “Do you like your room, dear?" Mrs. Hilton asked. Olivia nodded, surveying her surroundings until her eyes landed on the portrait hanging on the wall. The girl appeared to be about her age and looked just like her; if it weren't for her eyes, she would have thought it was a portrait of herself. “That's my deceased daughter Caroline.” Olivia couldn't look away from the face resembling hers. Finally, she understood why she was adopted. The Hiltons hadn’t chosen her because she was wanted. They had chosen her because she was close enough to replace what they had lost. And so Olivia settled into her new life—but it didn’t feel like a home. It felt more like a golden cage. Mrs. Hilton insisted on dressing her in old clothes that hung too loosely on her thin frame, and shoes that were two sizes too large. Each morning, she would brush her long dark hair, then braid it exactly the way her deceased daughter had worn it. Often, Mr. and Mrs. Hilton would call her by the wrong name. Each time, she wanted to tell them that she wasn't Caroline. Their daughter was gone. But the words never made it past her throat. She couldn't complain. After all, she was indebted to them for saving her from the orphanage. One day, they were having lunch when Mr. Hilton announced, “Clayton will be coming tonight.” Olivia's temples scrunched into a frown. It was the first time she had heard the name. Mrs. Hilton dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Clayton is from a prestigious family in the country. He and Caroline were arranged to get married.” “He's eighteen now and already running several of his family's businesses.” Mr. Hilton added, his voice carrying a note of pride. “Olivia, you're going to be his wife when you come of age.” Olivia dropped her spoon. But her adoptive parents didn't seem to notice. Four years. Her future husband was four years older than her. And he had been betrothed to Caroline. Olivia pushed her food around the plate, no longer hungry. “May I be excused?” Her adoptive mother lifted a hand, signaling she could leave, and didn't even look at her. Olivia slowly made her way out of the dining area. The moment she was out of sight, she dashed into her room. From the hallway, a deep voice called out. “Caroline!” Olivia turned toward the sound, instantly forgetting how to breathe. A man stood at the doorway, impossibly striking. Her pulse stumbled, then began to pound against her ribs. “I thought I would never see you again.” Before she could react, he pulled her into his arms. His chest was warm beneath her cheek. The strength of his embrace wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. Olivia closed her eyes for a fleeting moment. So this was what it felt like to be held as though you truly mattered, as though losing you would leave someone devastated. But the beautiful moment shattered the instant she lifted her face. Clayton’s dark eyes met hers, and whatever warmth had been there vanished. He pulled away sharply, as though her touch had scorched him, his arms dropping from her as if he could no longer bear to hold her. The hate in his eyes cut deeper than any words he could have spoken. “I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to the floor. Her fingers curled against her palms. She didn’t even know what she was apologizing for, only that she felt the need to. Clayton's hands, which had held her so tenderly moments ago while thinking she was Caroline, were now balled into fists at his sides. “Who are you?” “I-I’m O-Olivia,” she answered, cowering like cornered prey before him. A harsh laugh escaped his throat. “Caroline's been gone barely a year and they've already found someone to take her place?” “Look at me,” he commanded. Olivia kept her gaze fixed on the floor, but a moment later, his hand caught her chin and forced her face upward. His touch was no longer gentle. “Those eyes...” he muttered. His stare lingered on the striking contrast she had spent her life trying to hide—one eye blue, the other green. “Caroline had the most beautiful brown eyes I’d ever seen. But you...” His expression twisted with disgust. “What are you? Some kind of freak? You’re crazy if you think you could ever replace her.” The words struck harder than his grip. Then, just as suddenly, he let go. Olivia staggered back as he straightened his jacket, brushing past her as though she had vanished from existence. She waited until his footsteps faded before she ran to her room—no, Caroline's room. Everything in it still belonged to her: the room, the clothes and shoes, and even Clayton, her future husband. Olivia removed Caroline's too-big clothes and changed back into her pink patched dress. She pressed her face into the pillow to suppress her tears. This wasn’t a new life. It was a beautiful nightmare she had already stepped too deep into to escape. — Four years had passed, and time had worked its strange magic. Olivia's eyes, which had once made her a target of cruel bullying at the orphanage and caused Clayton Bradford to call her a freak, had become her most striking feature. At seventeen, Olivia walked the halls of Cordova Academy with a grace that turned heads. Her mismatched eyes—one as green as spring leaves, the other as blue as a summer sky—had become an attraction. Boys stumbled over their words when she passed by in the hallways, and the art students begged to paint her portrait. In photography class, Olivia became the most requested model. The photography teacher, Ms. Shanon, called her "a work of art." Girls who once would have mocked her features back in freshman year now visited expensive boutiques, searching for colored contact lenses to mimic her look. But none could replicate the natural beauty she possessed. When prom season arrived, her locker overflowed with invitations. The football captain, a famous politician's son, the Queen's nephew, and even the hot guy with a fan club all hoped to escort the girl with the bewitching eyes. The same eyes that once made children run away in fear now made men run toward her. On her eighteenth birthday, standing at the podium as valedictorian, Olivia addressed her graduating class. The sun streaming through the auditorium windows caught her eyes, making them shine like jewels. The entire audience sat mesmerized.

She graduated with the highest honors Cordova Academy had seen in decades. Her list of achievements filled three pages in the graduation program. After the ceremony, she held her golden honors cords and multiple medals out to her adoptive mother. Mrs. Hilton hugged her with tears in her eyes. "You've made us so proud. Caroline would have achieved the same if she were alive.” Olivia was heartbroken; for the past four years, her adoptive mother had never stopped mentioning Caroline at every opportunity. Even on this day, her day, she was still living in the shadow of a dead girl. Her achievement felt nothing now even though she worked hard for them for a long time. It felt as if they were never truly hers because, when her parents looked at her, they only saw Caroline. Walking through the crowded auditorium, Olivia smiled and nodded at the congratulations thrown her way. Inside, her heart ached. They had no idea that she had cried herself to sleep the night before, wondering if M