15June2025
I never imagined Id be walking into my own wedding only to see my fiancé arrive with a woman shed been married to all along, three children in tow.
Darling, youve lost your mind! This is an exclusive dressyou cant just have it restitched! the designer shouted, flinging his arms dramatically. Its like asking Leonardo daVinci to add a moustache to the MonaLisa!
Im paying £420 for this gown and I expect it to fit perfectly, Emily said calmly, though her stomach churned. You can see the excess fabric right there. Ive lost weight over the past month.
Last fitting you weighed the same! the designer snapped. Brides either slim down or put on a few pounds, but not that quickly. This dress was cut to your exact measurements.
Simon Clarke, the wedding is in three days. I dont have time for arguments. Please make the alterations I request.
Simon gave her a stern look, then nodded. The dress was indeed a bit loose. Emily had shed five kilograms in the whirlwind of planningnot from dieting, but from endless errands and nerves. Invitations, the venue, photographer, floristall fell on her shoulders. James was too consumed by his construction empire to worry about such minutiae.
Fine, Simon relented, pricking the dress with pins. Well make her a queen. But stop losing weight, otherwise I cant guarantee the result.
Emily smiled at her reflection. The white dress, with its lace bodice and full skirt, looked like something out of a fairy tale. She turned, admiring the silhouette. In three days she would become Emily Whitaker, wife of James Whitaker, owner of Whitaker Builders and, by his own admission, the most charming man shed ever met.
Her phone buzzed. A text from James: Stuck in a meeting. See you tonight. Love you.
She swallowed a sigh. The third time that week. Business demanded his attention. After the wedding they would finally have time for each other.
That evening, waiting for James at home, she sorted through photos for the wedding album. First trip to the seaside, skiing in the Lake District, the restaurant where he proposed. Ten months togetherhardly a long courtship, but when you know hes the one, why wait?
The front door clicked open. James entered, tired but smiling, tossed his jacket onto the armchair and pulled Emily into a kiss.
Sorry Im late. Investors from Manchester needed my focus.
No problem, she replied. Hungry? Ill heat up dinner.
I grabbed a bite at the office, he said, rubbing his eyes. Tell me how the fitting went.
As Emily recounted the designers tantrum, James nodded absently, his gaze flickering to his phone.
Youre not listening, she noted.
Sorry, urgent matter, he typed a quick reply. What did you say?
Never mind, she stood. Im going to shower. Its been a long day.
The water washed away fatigue but not anxiety. Lately James seemed distantperhaps the prewedding nerves, perhaps work pressures. She stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and heard James murmuring softly on the phone from the bedroom.
Yes, all good. No, dont worry, Ive got it under control right, Victor?
Emily froze in the hallway. Who was he speaking to so tenderly? She slipped to the door.
Ill be home soon, James said, ending the call.
Home? He was already home. A knot tightened in her chest. She opened the door.
Who were you talking to?
James startled, turned:
Its Victor, my deputy. We were discussing tomorrows meeting.
You said youd be home soon.
What? he frowned, then laughed. Ah, I meant Id be back at the office shortly. My tongue slipped. Im exhausted, Emily.
She wanted to argue, but James already moved close, enveloping her. He smelled of expensive cologne with a faint hint of something floral. She brushed it aside, assuming perhaps his secretary had been near him at the meeting.
Three days, and youll be Emily Whitaker, he whispered. Sounds lovely, doesnt it?
She pressed against his chest, trying to quiet the petty doubts that jittered from prewedding nerves. What could possibly go wrong?
The next morning Emily visited my friend Kate to collect the beaded shoes shed been working on.
You look worried, Kate observed over tea. Wedding jitters?
I dont know, Emily twirled the cup. Yesterday was odd. James talked on the phone and said hed be home soon, even though he was already home.
And what? Kate prompted.
It sounded different. I even smelled a hint of womens perfume.
Emily, youre being paranoid, Kate waved a hand. He runs a firm with half the staff being women. Of course there could be a whiff.
Maybe youre right, Emily forced a smile, though the unease lingered.
And are you both ready for married life? Kate asked. You havent even lived together.
Weve spent weekends together, holidays away. Isnt that enough to know each other?
Sure, Kate shrugged. What about his parents? He never introduced you to them.
They live up north, retired. Theyll come to the wedding.
Its odd youve never visited them in ten months.
James is busy. You know his business.
Right, construction, downtown office, trips abroad, Kate listed. Why wont any of his business partners attend the wedding?
Theyll be there. Victor and a few others.
Just a few? No friends?
He isnt big on big parties.
Kates skeptical glance lingered; shed never fully trusted James. He was too perfect, too mysterious, too occupied. Not everyone is an open book, she reminded herself.
That night Emily decided to confront him. We were in the kitchen; James was scrolling on his tablet while she stirred a sauce.
James, can I ask are we truly ready for marriage? she began, nerves evident.
What do you mean? he looked up, surprised.
We barely know each other. Ive never been to your home, never met your parents, I hardly know any of your friends.
Weve talked about this a hundred times, James put the tablet down. Ive spent most of my time at your flat while my house is being renovated. Youll meet my parents at the wedding. Friends? I dont have many; Im a workaholic, you know that.
Right
No buts, he said, pulling her into a hug from behind. In two days youll be my wife. Well move into the new house I bought for us. Itll be wonderful, I promise.
Emily nodded. Shed never seen the house, only heard it was a surprise after the ceremony. The idea felt romantic yet unsettling.
By the way, she remembered, have you collected the rings from the jeweller?
James froze for a heartbeat.
Not yet. Ill swing by tomorrow.
Maybe I should go myself. I need to be in that area anyway.
No! Its my responsibility. Ill take care of everything.
That night Emily lay awake while James slept soundly beside her. She stared at the ceiling, wrestling with her feelings. She loved him, trusted him, yet a part of her screamed danger.
The following morning James left early, saying he had to settle work matters before the wedding. Emily was alone and decided to act. She found Victors number in her contacts and dialed.
Hello? a male voice answered.
This is Emily Whitaker, Jamess fiancée. I need details about tomorrows event.
Event? Victor sounded puzzled. What event?
Our wedding, Emily said, feeling a chill. Youre invited, arent you?
There was a long silence.
Im sorry, I dont know any James Whitaker, Victor finally replied. Perhaps you have the wrong number.
But youre his deputy at the construction firm
No, Im an accountant at a travel agency. Ive never worked in construction.
Emily sank onto the chair, numb. She thanked Victor and hung up, then spent a long time searching online for any record of James Whitakers company. The results were vague; no director by that name appeared. Social media turned up no substantial projects linked to him.
She rummaged through the box of documents James had left at her placepassport, drivers licence, business card. The licence looked authentic, but the passport was unfamiliar. She called the number on the card; an automated message told her the number didnt exist.
The front door openedJames returned. She quickly stuffed everything back into the box.
What are you doing? he asked, kissing her cheek.
Looking at our photos, she lied. Tomorrow is a big day.
Yes, he smiled, producing a velvet box. Ive got the rings. Want to see?
She nodded. He opened the box; two golden bands gleamed.
Beautiful, she whispered, a lump forming in her throat.
Try them on? he offered, holding up the smaller one.
No, she stepped back. Bad omen. Youll wear them tomorrow.
James laughed.
Superstitious, arent we? Let it be a surprise then.
He smelled of expensive aftershave mixed with a faint trace of perfumeperhaps his secretarys scent. Emily dismissed it.
Im heading to Kates, she said. Ill spend the night there. Tradition, you know? The groom shouldnt see the bride before the ceremony.
Of course, James agreed. Ill stay with a mate. See you tomorrow, love.
He kissed her long, as if it were the last. A tear slipped down her cheek.
At Kates house Emily spilled everything: the call to Victor, the deadend searches, the odd perfume.
Im scared hes not who he says he is, she confessed, wiping her eyes.
Lets doublecheck, Kate said, opening her laptop. Full name?
James Edward Whitaker.
Date of birth?
15May1979.
Kate typed furiously.
Nothing, she said after a moment. Usually a successful businessman has some online footprintnews articles, LinkedIn, industry forums.
Maybe hes private? Kate suggested.
Or a fraud.
Could be a con man marrying for money? Emily asked. But I have no moneyjust a teachers salary, a family home, no car.
Maybe a flat? Kate mused.
None.
Could he be planning to disappear after the wedding, take the gifts? Kate guessed.
No! Id never let that happen.
Its possible, Kate replied. Ive read about such cases. They usually target wealthy victims, though.
Emily spent a sleepless night. By morning a calm settled over her. She decided she would go to the ceremony, look the man whod lied to her in the eye, and ask why.
The wedding was booked at a small country inn outside the city. Emily arrived an hour early to change and ready herself. Guests were already gatheringher parents, friends, colleagues. Jamess side was conspicuously absent.
In the bridal suite her friends helped her dress and do her hair. The dress fit perfectly, but it felt like a costume shed never truly owned.
James is here, one friend announced, peeking into the room. He looks dashing in his suit!
Emilys heart beat faster. Now? She would finally see the truth.
Fifteen minutes remained until the ceremony. She stood at the window watching the last cars pull up. A silver minivan rolled to a stop, and a woman stepped out, clutching three children. She was welldressed, eyes wide with anxiety, and urged the kids toward the entrance.
A cold shiver ran down Emilys 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, his back to the door.
The doors opened and the woman with the children entered. The room fell silent. James turned slowly; his face went pale.
Victor? the woman asked, voice trembling. Whats happening?
Emily moved closer, confused. Was this James or someone else?
Its Alisha, the woman said, her voice breaking. Your mother called me, said you were getting married! Victor, we have three kids!
Murmurs rose among the guests. Emily felt the floor tilt beneath her. She grabbed a nearby chair.
James, she called. Who is she?
The man isnt James, the woman shouted. Hes Pavel Dmitriyevich Clark. Hes my husband, the father of my children. I work in a car dealership.
Emily stared at the childrena tenyearold boy, a nineyearold, and a fouryearoldwho looked at the man with bewildered eyes.
Dad? the oldest whispered. Why are you in a suit? Is today your wedding?
Quiet, Kyle, Alisha scolded. Dad will explain later.
Pavel finally found his voice.
Alisha, kids, wait for me outside. Ill explain everything.
No, Im staying, Alisha said, arms crossed. Ive put up with your trips, your late nights this has gone on for two years!
Emily stepped forward, eyes locked on the man shed loved.
Who are you really? she asked softly. Whats your name?
He lowered his head.
Pavel Clark.
Youre married? she pressed.
Yes.
And these children?
Yes.
The revelation shattered something inside Emily. All the months of love, the promises, the plansgone.
Why? she asked, voice shaking. Why lie?
Pavel remained silent. Alisha grabbed his sleeve.
This has been two years, hasnt it? Your business trips, the delays youve been leading a double life!
Pavel tried to interject, Alisha, not now
But not now! she snapped. I believed you, trusted you. You fooled me with a fake company, fake parents, a fake proposal.
Emily interjected, Why pretend to be a businessman? Why fabricate the whole story?
The hall was so quiet one could hear a fly buzz. All eyes were on the unfolding drama.
I I didnt plan this, Pavel began, voice cracking. It just got out of hand.
Out of hand? Emily repeated, incredulous. You dated me for ten months, proposed, organised a wedding, and it all spiralled out of control?
I met you by chance, Pavel confessed. You were beautiful, intelligent. I wanted to impress you, so I said I ran my own firm. Then I couldnt stop. The lies built upon lies.
Alisha asked, Why marry then?
Pavel could not answer.
Kate, who had been watching from the side, stepped forward. I think he was after the gifts, the money from the wedding, she said. Is that what you intended, Pavel?
Are you saying Im a fraud? Alisha asked, eyes fierce.
Emily, still reeling, asked, Did you know I was unaware of your marriage?
Yes, Pavel whispered. I thought youd never find out until today.
Alisha turned to Emily.
Did you know he was already married? she asked.
Emily shook her head.
Its insane, disgusting, Alisha muttered. Ill take the kids and leave. You can go, Pavel.
Pavel stood, surrounded by judgmental gazes. Emily looked at the man shed once loved and recognized a stranger.
You should leave, she said quietly. Theres nothing left for you here.
He tried to speak, but the words fell flat. He turned and walked out, the children following his hesitant steps.
Emily remained in the white wedding dress, the hall hushed, guests bewildered. Kate came over and embraced her.
Lets get out of here, Kate whispered. The banquets paid for, the music booked. Shall we just enjoy the evening?
What are we celebrating? Emily asked, a faint smile forming. My freedom, perhaps?
She walked to the drinks table, poured herself a glass of champagne, and took a hearty gulp. Within the hour, the guests began to talk, laugh, and dance. The sting of betrayal still burned, yet something inside her steadied.
Late that night, after everyone had gone, Emily sat on the steps of the inn, still in her gown. Kate handed her a glass of water.
How are you holding up? Kate asked.
Empty, Emily admitted. Deceived, but oddly grateful that the truth surfaced now, not later.
Youre amazing, Kate said. II will carry that strength forward, trusting that every ending is simply the seed of a new beginning.
