I often think back to the day I believed I was about to marry a thriving entrepreneur, only for his actual wife and three children to appear at the ceremony.
Girl, youre out of your mind! Thats a oneoff couture piece; you cant just have it altered! the tailor declared, flinging his hands dramatically. It would be like asking Leonardo daVinci to give the MonaLisa a moustache!
Ive paid £400 for this dress and I expect it to fit perfectly, Emily said calmly, though her stomach was a knot of anxiety. You see the extra fabric that needs to be taken off. Ive lost weight over the past month.
Last fitting you were the same size! the tailor snapped. A bride might slim down or put on a few pounds, but not that quickly. This gown was cut to your exact measurements.
MrWhitaker, Emily sighed, the wedding is in three days. I have no time for arguments. Please make the changes Ive asked for.
He gave her a sour look, then nodded. The dress sat a little loose. Emily had shed five kilos in the month leading up to the weddingnot from dieting, but from endless errands and nerves. Invitations, the venue, the photographer, the floristall fell on her shoulders. James Hartley was too occupied with his construction empire to worry about such details.
Very well, Whitaker softened, pricking the fabric with pins. Well make a queen out of you. But lose no more weight, or I cant guarantee the result.
Emily smiled at her reflection. The white dress, with its lace bodice and full skirt, looked like something from a fairytale. She turned to admire the silhouette, wondering if in three days she would become the wife of James Hartley, owner of Hartley Builders and, by all accounts, the most charming man she had ever met.
Her phone buzzed. A message from James: Running late at a meeting. See you this evening. Kiss.
She swallowed a sigh. It was the third delay that week, but business demanded attention. After the wedding they would have more time together.
That night, while waiting for James, she sorted photographs for the wedding album. There was their first seaside holiday, a ski trip to the Alps, and the restaurant where James had proposed. Ten monthshardly a long courtship before marriagebut when youre sure hes the one, why wait?
A knock announced Jamess return. He slipped his jacket onto the armchair, looked weary yet smiling, and pulled Emily close for a kiss.
Sorry for the delay. Investors from Birmingham needed my focus, he said.
No problem, Emily replied. Are you hungry? Ill heat dinner.
I snacked at the office, James muttered, eyes flicking to his phone. Tell me how the fitting went.
As Emily recounted the temperamental tailor, James nodded absentmindedly, his gaze drifting to the screen in his hand.
You werent listening, she noted.
Sorry, urgent matter, he typed a quick reply. What were you saying?
Never mind, Emily stood. Im going to shower. Its been a long day.
The water washed away fatigue but not the unease. Lately James seemed distantperhaps wedding nerves, perhaps work pressure? She stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped, and heard a hushed conversation from the bedroom.
Yes, everythings fine. No, dont worry, Ive got it under control Yes, of course Im also, a male voice murmured.
Emily froze in the hallway. Who was he speaking to so tenderly? She slipped toward the door.
Ill be home soon, James said before ending the call.
Home? He was already home. A tightening sensation gripped her chest. She opened the door.
Who were you talking to?
James startled, then turned: Victor, my deputy. We were discussing tomorrows meeting.
You said youd be home soon, Emily repeated.
What? he frowned, then laughed. Ah, I meant Id be back at the office. Misspoke. Im exhausted, Emily.
She wanted to protest, but James moved forward and embraced her. A faint scent of expensive cologne mingled with a whiff of something softerperhaps a womans perfume. She dismissed the thought; maybe his secretary had been in the meeting.
Three days and youll be MrsHartley, he whispered, smiling. Sounds lovely, doesnt it?
She pressed her cheek to his chest, the doubts of prewedding nerves swirling like fog. What could possibly go wrong?
The next morning Emily visited her friend Claire to collect the beaded shoes shed asked Claire to embellish.
You look worried, Claire observed over tea. Prewedding jitters?
Im not sure, Emily admitted, swirling her mug. Yesterday James talked on the phone and said hed be home soon, even though he was already home.
And what? He sounded different? Smelled like perfume?
Exactly. I think Im being paranoid, Claire laughed. He runs a company with half the staff being women; that could explain a scent.
Emily forced a smile, though anxiety lingered.
Are you both ready for married life? You havent even lived together, Claire asked.
Weve spent weekends together, gone on holidays. Thats enough to know someone, Emily replied.
His parents live up north, elderly, cant travel, but will attend the wedding, she added, repeating Jamess words.
Its odd youve never visited them in ten months, Claire noted.
James is swamped. He has an office in the city centre, trips abroad, a fleet of projects, Emily said. His partners will be there, too.
Only a few? Claire asked. What about friends?
He doesnt like loud crowds, Emily said.
Claires skeptical glance lingered. From the start shed regarded James with cautiontoo perfect, too secretive, too busy. Yet not every man is an open book.
That evening Emily decided to speak with James. He was at the kitchen table, scrolling on his tablet while she stirred a sauce.
James, I need to ask are we really ready for marriage? she began, voice trembling.
What do you mean? he asked, looking up.
We hardly know each other. Ive never been to your home, never met your parents, I barely know your friends.
Weve talked about this a hundred times, James said, setting the tablet aside. Ive spent most of my time in your flat while my house is being renovated. Youll meet my parents at the wedding. My friends are few; Im a workaholic, you know that.
Yes, but
No buts, he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. In two days youll be my wife. Well move into the new house I bought for us. A wonderful life awaits, I promise.
Emily nodded. She had never seen the house; James claimed it would be a surprise after the ceremony. The thought both intrigued and unsettled her.
Did you collect the rings from the jeweller? she asked.
James paused. Not yet. Ill go tomorrow.
Maybe I should? I need to be there, she offered.
No! he snapped. Its my responsibility. Ill take care of everything.
That night Emily lay awake, Jamess steady breathing beside her. She loved him, trusted him, yet a part of her screamed warning. Why did it feel so strange?
At dawn James left early for a business trip, saying he had to settle affairs before the wedding. Emily stayed alone, resolved to act. She found Victors number in the contacts and dialed.
Hello? a male voice answered.
This is Emily, James Hartleys bride. I need details about tomorrows event.
What event? Victor sounded confused.
Our wedding, Emily said, feeling the chill creep up her spine. Youre invited, arent you?
There was a long silence.
I dont know any James Hartley, Victor finally replied. Perhaps you have the wrong number.
But youre his deputy in the construction firm
Im an accountant at a travel agency. Ive never worked in construction.
Emily sank onto a chair, numb. She thanked him and hung up, staring at the empty wall. Who was the man she was about to marry?
With trembling hands she opened her laptop, typed the company name James claimed to own, and searched. Several firms with similar names appeared, but none listed a director named James Hartley. Social media yielded no trace of major building projects. She dug through old photographs and documents James had lefthis passport, a drivers licence, a business card. The licence looked genuine, but a quick call to the number on the card went straight to a dead line.
The front door openedJames was back. He asked what she was doing.
Just looking through our photos, Emily said, forcing a smile. Tomorrows a big day.
Yes, Ive got the rings, he replied, pulling a velvet box from his pocket. Inside lay two shining gold bands.
Theyre beautiful, Emily whispered, a lump forming in her throat.
Want to try them on? he asked, holding out the smaller one.
No, she stepped back. Bad omen. Youll wear them tomorrow.
James laughed. Superstitious, arent you? Lets keep it a surprise.
He smelled of expensive cologne, a hint of something softerperhaps a womans perfume. Emily brushed it aside, convincing herself it was just the office secretarys scent.
Im heading to Claires for the night, Emily said. Tradition says the groom shouldnt see the bride before the ceremony.
Of course, James agreed. Ill stay at a friends. See you tomorrow, love.
He kissed her long and tenderly, as if for the last time. A tear slipped down Emilys cheek.
At Claires, Emily spilled everythingthe call to Victor, the odd inconsistencies, the perfume. Claires eyes widened.
Its strange theres no record of him, she said, typing furiously. Usually a successful builder shows up in news or online.
Maybe hes private?
Or a fraud. That fake Victor Emily, youre being duped. But why?
Money? Emily guessed. Im a schoolteacher, no fortune.
Property? Car?
None of that. I have a parents flat, no car.
Claire frowned. He could be a con man, marrying then vanishing with wedding gifts. It happens.
Emily spent the night restless. By morning she felt an odd calm. She would go to the ceremony, face the man who had lied for ten months, and ask why.
The wedding was set in a modest country inn. Emily arrived an hour early to change and prepare. Guestsher parents, friends, a few coworkerswere gathering. No sign of James yet.
In the bridal suite her friends helped with the dress and hair. The gown fit perfectly, yet Emily felt like a stranger in someone elses skin.
James is here, a friend announced, peeking in. He looks dashing in his suit!
Emilys heart quickened. The moment of truth was near.
Just as the ceremony was to begin, a silver minibus pulled up. A welldressed woman stepped out with three children, speaking softly to them before ushering them toward the inns entrance.
A chill ran down Emilys spine. Instinct told her this was no accident. She slipped out of the room and entered the main hall, where guests were already seated. James stood near the registration desk, back turned to the door.
The doors opened and the woman entered, her eyes wide with fear.
Parker? she asked, voice trembling. Whats happening?
Emily moved closer, still confused. Jamesor Parker?stood between the two women, his gaze flicking.
Alice, he finally said. What are you doing here?
What am I doing? the woman replied, shaking. Your mother called me, said you were getting married! Parker, we have three children!
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Emily felt the floor give way beneath her. She clutched a nearby chair.
James, she called, voice cracking. Who is this woman?
What James? Alice shouted. His name is Parker Thomas Kline. Hes my husband, the father of my kids. He works as a carsales manager.
Emily glanced at the childrena pair of boys and a girl, ages ten, eight and four. The eldest looked up at James, bewildered.
Dad? the boy asked. Why are you in a suit? Is there a wedding?
Quiet, Thomas, Alice hissed. Dad will explain everything later.
Jamesnow Parkerstammered, Everyone, please wait outside. Ill explain.
Alice crossed her arms. Im not leaving until I know whats going on.
Emily stepped forward, meeting his eyes. Who are you, really?
He lowered his head. Parker Kline.
And youre married?
Yes.
And these are your children?
Yes.
Emily felt something snap inside. All the months of love, promises, future plansnothing but a lie.
Why? she whispered. Why did you do this?
Parker remained silent. Alice seized his sleeve. This has been going on for two years! Your trips, the delayswas it all a double life?
Not now, Alice, he pleaded. Please.
No, now! she shouted. I believed every word you said! And you
Emily interjected, Why pretend to be a businessman? Why lie about the job, the parents, the proposal?
The hall was so quiet you could hear a mouse scurry. All eyes were fixed on the unfolding drama.
I I didnt plan this, Parker finally said, eyes darting around. It just got out of control.
Out of control? Emily repeated, incredulous. You dated me for ten months, proposed, organized a weddingand it all spiraled?
It started as a chance meeting, Parker began. You were beautiful, clever. I wanted to impress you, so I invented a construction empire. Then I couldnt stop.
What was the point of marrying? Alice asked coldly.
The thought of disappearing after the ceremony, taking gifts and money, Claire, who had stepped forward, whispered. Is that what you thought, Parker?
No! he shouted. I could never do that to Emily.
But you deceived her, and your wife, Claire replied. How long did you plan to juggle two families?
Parker said nothing, his silence louder than any accusation. Alice turned to Emily.
Did you know he was married? she asked.
No, Emily shook her head. I only learned yesterday that he was lying.
Its disgusting, isnt it? Alice said. Absolutely disgusting.
She gathered her children. Were leaving. I wont go back to that house.
Parker stood alone, surrounded by judgmental gazes. Emily looked at the man she thought she loved and saw a stranger.
You must go, she said softly.
Emily, please, I can explain
Theres nothing to explain, she said, shaking her head. Just leave.
He lingered a moment, then walked out without anyone stopping him.
Emily remained in the centre of the hall, still in her white wedding dress, the guests hushed around her. A strange mix of emptiness and relief washed over her. Claire came over, hugging her shoulders.
Lets get you home, Claire said.
No, Emily replied suddenly. Weve already paid for the banquet. The guests are here. Lets just celebrate.
What are we celebrating? Claire asked.
My liberation, Emily managed a faint smile. Can you imagine if shed shown up after the ceremony? Or a year later, after wed had children?
She looked over the guests. Im sorry for this spectacle. There will be no wedding, but the banquet is booked, the music ordered. Lets make the best of it.
She was the first to raise a glass of champagne, downing it in one gulp. Within the hour the room filled with dancing, laughter, stories. The bitterness of betrayal still burned, but something inside told her she would survive. She would.
Late that night, after the last guest had left, Emily sat on the steps of the inn, still in her dress. Claire joined, offering a glass of water.
How are you holding up? Claire asked.
I dont know, Emily admitted. I feel empty, deceived, yet oddly grateful that the truth came now, not later.
Youre remarkable, Claire said. I dont know if I could have endured this.
Neither did I, Emily said, gazing at the darkening sky. Were stronger than we think.
They sat in silence before Claire asked, What will you do now?
Ill return the dress to the tailor, Emily replied with a wry grin. Then I dont know. Ill keep living, learn to trust again. Maybe Ill travel somewhere sunny, far from men.
Lets go on holiday together, Claire suggested. Ive saved enough for a little escape.
Why not, Emily said. Somewhere with plenty of sun and sea, and no husbands.
They laughed, and Emily felt a warmth melt the chill inside. Life hadnt ended; it was merely beginning anewher own, free of lies and doubledealing.
The next morning she awoke on Claires sofa, wrapped in a blanket, sunlight spilling through the window. She stretched, feeling, for the first time in ages, truly freefrom illusion, from false love, from others expectations.
She picked up her phone, opened social media, and posted: Sometimes loss is a discovery. Sometimes an endingAnd with that, she stepped into the sunrise, ready to write the next chapter of her own life.
