I thought I was about to marry a thriving entrepreneur, until his actual wife showed up at the ceremony with three kids.
Girl, youve lost your mind! the couturier declared, waving his arms dramatically. That dress is a limitededition piece; you cant just stitch it into something else! Its like asking Leonardo daVinci to add a moustache to the MonaLisa!
Im paying £400 for this gown and I expect it to fit like a glove, Pippa Martin said calmly, though her blood was practically boiling. You can see the excess fabric here. Ive lost weight in the last month.
The last fitting you weighed exactly the same! the designer huffed. Brides might slim down or put on a few pounds, but not at lightning speed. This dress was made to your original measurements.
Simon Whitford, Pippa sighed, the wedding is in three days. I dont have time for arguments. Please make the alterations I asked for.
He gave her a disapproving glance, then reluctantly nodded. The dress did indeed hang a bit baggy. Pippa had shed five kilos during the frantic month leading up to the nuptialsnot from dieting, but from endless errands and nerves. Invitations, the venue, photographer, floristeverything fell on her shoulders. James Whitaker was too busy running his construction empire to fuss over such minutiae.
Fine, Simon softened, pricking the fabric with pins. Well make a queen out of you. But stop losing weight, or I cant be held responsible for the result.
Pippa smiled at her reflection. The white dress, with a lace bodice and a billowing skirt, looked like something out of a fairytale. She turned sideways, admiring the silhouette. In three days she would be Mrs. James Whitaker, owner of Whitaker Developments and, apparently, the most charming man shed ever met.
Her phone buzzed. A message from James: Stuck in a meeting, see you tonight. Kiss.
Pippa swallowed a sigh. That was the third delay that week, but business demanded attention. After the wedding theyd finally have time for each other.
That evening, waiting for James at home, she thumbed through photos for the wedding album: their first seaside getaway, a ski trip in the Alps, the restaurant where he proposed. Ten months wasnt a long courtship, but if he was the one, why wait?
A knock announced Jamess return. He looked tired but smiling, tossed his blazer onto a chair and pulled Pippa into a kiss.
Sorry I’m late. The investors in Manchester needed extra care.
No problem, Pippa replied. Hungry? Ill heat up dinner.
I grabbed a bite in the office, James said, eyes flicking to his phone. Tell me how the fitting went.
She launched into the designers drama; James nodded absently, his gaze drifting to the screen in his hand.
You arent listening, Pippa noted.
Sorry, urgent matter, he typed a quick reply. What did you say?
Never mind, she stood. Im off to the shower. Its been a long day.
The water washed away fatigue but not the unease. Lately James seemed distantperhaps wedding nerves, perhaps work stress? She stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her, and heard James murmuring on the phone in the bedroom.
Yes, everythings fine. No, dont worry, Ive got it under control Yes, of course I also
Pippa froze in the hall. Who was he speaking to so tenderly? She crept to the door.
Ill be home soon, James said, then hung up.
Home? He was already home. A knot tightened in her chest. She opened the door.
Who were you talking to?
James flinched, then turned:
With Victor, my deputy. We were discussing tomorrows meeting.
You said youd be home soon.
What? he frowned, then laughed. Ah, I meant Ill be back at the office soon. Misspoke. Im exhausted, Pippa.
She opened her mouth to protest, but James already pulled her into an embrace. He smelled expensive cologne with a hint of floral perfume. She brushed it aside, telling herself it was probably his secretarys scent.
Three days, and youll be Mrs. Whitaker, he whispered. Sounds lovely, doesnt it?
She nodded, curling into his chest, the prewedding nerves making everything feel absurdly theatrical.
The next morning Pippa visited her friend Kate to collect the beaded shoes shed been prepping.
You look worried, Kate observed over tea. Prewedding jitters?
Not sure, Pippa twirled the cup. Yesterday was odd. James talked on the phone and said hed be home soon, even though he was already home.
And? Kate prompted.
He sounded different. And there was a whiff of womens perfume.
Paranoia, Kate waved a hand. He runs a firm with half the staff being women. Of course he could smell a fragrance.
Youre probably right, Pippa said, though anxiety lingered.
Are you both ready for married life? You havent even lived together.
Weve spent weekends together, gone on holidays. Thats enough to know each other.
And the parents? Kate asked.
His parents live up north, retired, will come for the wedding.
Strange theyve never visited in ten months.
Its his work. Hes always traveling.
Kate listed his business: a construction company with an office in central London, trips abroad, however none of his partners were expected at the wedding.
Theyll be there, Pippa insisted. Victor will be, and a few others.
Just a few? No friends?
He hates big crowds.
Kates skeptical look said it allshed never trusted James fully. But not every man is an open book, right?
That night Pippa finally spoke with James in the kitchen while she cooked.
James, I need to ask are we really ready for marriage? she began, stirring sauce nervously.
What do you mean? he asked, surprised.
We barely know each other. Ive never been to your house, never met your parents, barely know your friends.
Weve talked about this a hundred times, James put down his tablet. Ive spent most of my time at your flat because my own place is under renovation. Youll meet my parents at the wedding. My friends? I dont have many, Im a workaholic, you know that.
Yeah, but
No buts, he said, hugging her from behind. In two days youll be my wife. Well move into the new house I bought for us. A wonderful life, I promise.
She nodded. She hadnt seen the house yet; James said it would be a surprise after the ceremony. The gesture was sweet, yet it still set off alarm bells.
By the way, she recalled, did you collect our wedding rings from the jeweller?
James froze.
Not yet. Ill swing by tomorrow.
Should I do it myself? I need to be in that area anyway.
No! he snapped. Leave it to me. Ill take care of everything.
That night Pippa lay awake while James breathed peacefully beside her. She stared at the ceiling, torn between love and a nagging sense of danger.
The next morning James left early, saying he had to settle some work matters before the wedding. Pippa, left alone, decided to act. She dug up Victors contact from her phone and dialed.
Hello? a male voice answered.
Good afternoon, this is Pippa, James Whitakers fiancée, she introduced. I need to confirm details for tomorrows event.
Excuse me? Victor sounded puzzled. What event?
Our wedding, Pippa said, feeling the temperature drop. Youre invited, arent you?
A long pause.
Im not aware of any James Whitaker, Victor finally said. Perhaps you have the wrong number.
But youre his deputy at the construction firm
Im an accountant at a travel agency, he corrected. Ive never worked in construction.
Pippa sank onto a chair, her legs numb. She thanked him and hung up, staring at the wall. Who was this man she was about to marry?
She opened her laptop, typed the company name James claimed to own, and scoured the internet. Several firms with similar names appeared, but none listed a director called James Whitaker. Social media gave no trace of his big projects.
She rummaged through a box of Jamess papers left on a shelf: a passport, drivers licence, a business card. She examined the licencereal or forged? She called the number on the card; the voicemail said the number didnt exist.
The front door clicked openJames returned. She quickly shoved everything back into the box.
What are you doing? he asked, kissing her cheek.
Just looking at our photos, Pippa replied. Tomorrows the big day.
Yes, he grinned. I grabbed the rings. Want to see?
She nodded. He produced a velvet box; two gold bands gleamed on a cushion.
Beautiful, she whispered, a lump forming in her throat.
Try them on? he offered, pulling out the smaller band.
No, she stepped back. Bad luck. Youll wear them tomorrow.
He laughed. Superstitious, arent we? Lets keep it a surprise.
He smelled genuine, loving. Could it all still be a lie?
Im heading to Kates, Pippa said. Ill spend the night there. Tradition, right? The groom shouldnt see the bride before the ceremony.
Sure, James agreed. Im off to a mates place. See you tomorrow, love.
He kissed her long and tenderly, as if it might be the last. A tear slipped down her cheek.
At Kates, Pippa spilled everything: the call to Victor, the deadend research, the odd scent on James.
Im scared hes not who he says he is, she said, wiping her eyes.
Lets doublecheck, Kate said, opening her laptop. Full name?
James Ian Whitaker.
Date of birth?
15May1979.
Kate typed furiously.
Nothing. No news articles, no LinkedIn profile, nothing. Usually a successful businessman shows up somewhere.
Maybe hes just private?
How private can you be when you have a fake Victor? Kate shook her head. Someones pulling a fast one. Why?
Money? Pippa guessed. But I have none. Im a teacher.
Property? Car?
My parents own the house. No car.
Could he be a con who marries, collects gifts, then disappears?
That happens, though usually to wealthy victims.
Pippa spent a sleepless night turning the situation over. By morning a calm resolve settled in: she would go to the ceremony, look the man whod deceived her in the eye, and ask why.
The wedding was set in a modest countryside restaurant. Pippa arrived an hour early to change and prep. Guests were already gathering: her parents, friends, work colleagues. No sign of James yet.
In the bridal suite, friends helped her dress and do her hair. The dress fit perfectly, but she felt like a mannequin in someone elses skin.
James is here, one friend announced, peeking in. He looks dashing in his suit!
Her heart thumped. Time for the reveal?
Fifteen minutes remained. She watched the last cars pull up. Then a silver minivan halted, and a welldressed woman stepped out with three children. She looked flustered, whispering to the kids as they trailed toward the entrance.
A shiver ran down Pippas spine. Something told her this wasnt random. She slipped out of the suite and entered the main hall, where guests were already seated. James stood near the registration desk, back to the door. The sudden arrival of the woman caused a hush. James turned slowly, his face blanching.
Pavlov? the woman croaked, voice trembling. Whats happening?
Pippa moved closer, still trying to piece it together. Was James now Pavlov?
What are you doing here? the woman demanded. Your mother called me, said you were getting married! Pavlov, we have three kids!
The crowd murmured. Pippa felt the floor tilt. She clutched a nearby chair.
James, she called, voice shaking. Who is she?
What James? the woman retorted. Hes Pavlov Dmitri Kline. Hes my husband, the father of these children. He works in a car dealership.
The kidstwo boys and a girllooked at James with bewildered eyes.
Dad? the oldest asked. Why are you in a suit? Is there a wedding?
Quiet, Kirill, the mother scolded. Dad will explain.
Jamesnow Pavlovfinally found words.
Alice, the children, wait for me outside. Ill explain everything.
No, Im staying until I know whats happening, Alice snapped. Ive tolerated your trips, your business delays youve been living a double life!
Not now, Alice, Pavlov pleaded. Please.
Now! she shouted. I believed every word you said! And you
Pippa interjected, Why pretend to be a businessman? Why lie about work, parents, the proposal?
The hall was so quiet you could hear a fly buzz. All eyes were fixed on the unfolding drama.
I I didnt intend this, Pavlov began, his gaze darting around. It just got out of hand.
Out of hand? Pippa echoed. You dated me for ten months, proposed, organized this wedding, and now its out of hand?
He swallowed. I met you by chance. You were beautiful, clever. I wanted to impress, so I said I owned a company. Then I couldnt stop.
What was the point of marrying? Alice asked.
Before he could answer, Kate stepped forward. I think he planned to vanish after the wedding, collect the gifts and cash, and disappear. Right, Pavlov?
No! he protested. I couldnt do that to Pippa.
But you did deceive her. And your wife, Kate added, shaking her head. How long have you been juggling two families?
He fell silent; his silence screamed louder than any confession.
Did you know he was married? Pippa asked, her voice barely a whisper.
No, she said, shaking her head. I only learned yesterday that he was lying, and I never imagined it would be this dramatic.
Disgusting? Alice suggested. Exactly.
She turned to the children. Lets go home. We have no business staying here.
The kids obediently walked toward the exit. Alice lingered a moment longer. Ill take the kids and go to my mothers. You can stay or leave, Pavlov.
She walked out, head held high.
Pavlov stood alone, surrounded by judging stares. Pippa looked at him, the man shed thought she loved, and barely recognized him.
You need to go, she said softly.
Pippa, please, I can explain
Theres nothing to explain, she replied, shaking her head. Just leave.
He lingered a heartbeat longer, then turned and slipped out. No one stopped him.
Pippa remained in the centre of the hall, white dress immaculate, guests hushed around her. A strange mix of emptiness and relief washed over her. Kate came over and hugged her tightly.
Lets get you home, Kate said.
No, Pippa replied unexpectedly. Weve already paid for the banquet. The guests are here. Lets just celebrate.
What are we celebrating? Kate asked, bewildered.
My freedom, Pippa joked weakly. Imagine if the truth had come out after the ceremony, or a year later, or when we already had kids?
She scanned the room. Sorry for the drama, folks. There wont be a wedding, but the banquets paid for, the bands booked. Lets have a good time.
She poured herself a glass of champagne and drank it in one go. Within the hour, guests were dancing, laughing, sharing stories. The sting of betrayal still burned, but something inside her whispered shed survive.
Late that night, as the last guests drifted away, Pippa sat on the restaurant steps, still in her wedding dress. Kate joined, offering a glass of water.
How are you? Kate asked.
I dont know, Pippa admitted. I feel empty, cheated, yet oddly grateful that it all came out now, not later.
Youre amazing, Kate said, shaking her head. I dont know how you managed to hold it together.
I didnt know I could either, Pippa said, looking up at the darkening sky. Turns out were tougher than we think.
They sat in silence a moment, then Kate asked, What nextShe booked a oneway ticket to the seaside, tucked the wedding dress into her suitcase, and walked away with a quiet, hopeful grin.
