My thwarted wedding: I gave birth to a son, and Marek married the woman his mother chose
My wedding never happened: I delivered a baby boy, and Marc married the bride his mother selected for him.
Sometimes fate collapses in an instant, like a house of cards built on hope, love, and belief in the future. Then everything turns into betrayal, pain, and a silent loneliness. Thats exactly what happened to me.
My name is Claire, and Im ready to tell the story that still brings tears, even after all these years.
Marc and I had been together for almost a year. It was a genuine lovesimple, warm, sincere. He was caring, present, and it felt as if we spoke the same language. After six months we moved in together, and soon we filed a marriage request at the town hall. The wedding date was set, our families were preparing everything with joy, and my mother had even ordered her dress in advance. Marcs mother seemed equally pleased with our union; she greeted me with a smile, brought homemade pies, and said I was just right for her son.
Marc grew up under tough circumstanceshis father left the family while he was still a child, went to another woman, divorced again, and disappeared. Perhaps thats why Marc clung so tightly to his mother; her opinion was everything to him.
Ten days before the ceremony I discovered I was pregnant. I wanted to make it a surprise and announce it on the wedding day. My father, a traditional man, would have been devastated to hear such news before the marriage. I dreamed of telling him proudly as he led me to the altar.
Preparations were in full swing: we chose the venue décor, discussed the menu, rehearsed our first dance Then, a week before the wedding, during my mothers birthday, Marc declared that the wedding would not take place because the child was not his.
Those words were a crushing blow, not only for me but for my whole family. My parents didnt even know I was pregnant. Horrified, I demanded an explanation. Marc showed me a photographtaken from a distance at a crosswalk, where I stood next to an unknown man. The angle created an illusion of closeness. He claimed it proved my infidelity.
I tried to explain that I didnt know the man, that he could have been any passerby. Marc wouldnt hear it. He was deaf to my pleas, as if he had already decided to believe the lie.
That night my mother was devastated by shame and humiliation. We had to call the relatives to announce that the wedding was canceled, that their daughter was pregnant, and that the fiancé had fled, leaving me on the brink of motherhood.
Five months later I gave birth to a son, whom I named André. My parents, despite everything, stood by me, even though I saw how much it cost them. They held firmfor me and for my child.
I tried not to think of Marc, but eventually I learned the truth. His mother had never wanted me in her family. She deemed me too plain, not the kind of obedient, respectable daughterinlaw she wanted. She persuaded her son to break off the engagement and stage the whole photo hoax. In my place she had imposed Agathedaughter of an influential family, with good connections and money.
Marc married Agathe a few months after our tragedy. Yet life quickly corrected the picture. Agathe turned out not to be the person she pretended to be. She immediately turned against her motherinlaw, took over the whole house, and let no one intrude on their life. Marc could not stand it. He went to work in Germany, then filed for divorce.
Recently he began contacting me through social media, apologizing, saying he understands, and wanting a relationship with André. He claims it doesnt matter who the father is, as long as the child is near him.
But I no longer believe him. My trust has turned to ash. I do not want my son to grow up close to someone capable of such betrayalsomeone who ignored his own heart and obeyed his mothers orders, choosing lies, convenience, and cowardice.
Yes, I know forgiveness is a virtue, but I refuse to let back into my life those who once chose to betray me. I have learned to be strong, to wait for nothing, to be a mother without a mans help. I have Andrémy purpose, my love, my strength.
As for Marc may he live with his conscience. If even a fragment of the love he once swore to me remains, he will understand why I never opened the door when he knocked after ten years.
Perhaps that will be his true punishment.
My Broken Marriage: I Gave Birth to a Son, While Marek Married the Woman Chosen by His Mother
