My aborted wedding: I gave birth to a son, and Marek married the woman his mother had chosen for him
My wedding never happened: I had a baby boy, and Marek ended up with the partner his mother selected.
Sometimes fate collapses in an instant, like a house of cards built on hope, love and belief in the future, turning everything into betrayal, pain and a quiet loneliness. Thats exactly what happened to me.
Im Claire, and Im ready to tell the story that still brings tears to my eyes, even after all these years.
Marek and I had been together for almost a year. It was a genuine lovesimple, warm, sincere. He was caring, always 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, my mother had even ordered her dress ahead of time. His mother also seemed pleased with our union; she greeted me with a smile, brought homemade pies, and said I was just right for her son.
Marek grew up under difficult circumstanceshis father left the family when he was still a child, went to another woman, divorced again and disappeared. Perhaps thats why Marek was so attached to his mother; her opinion meant everything to him.
Ten days before the ceremony I discovered I was pregnant. I wanted to surprise him and announce it on the wedding day. My oldschool father would have been devastated to hear such news before the marriage. I imagined telling him proudly as he walked me down the aisle.
The preparations were in full swing: we chose the hall décor, discussed the menu, rehearsed our first dance Then, a week before the wedding, during my mothers birthday, Marek announced that the wedding would not take place because the child wasnt his.
Those words hit me like a hammer, not only for me but for my whole family. My parents didnt even know I was pregnant. Horrified, I asked him what he meant. He showed me a photome standing at a crosswalk next to an unknown man. It was taken from afar, at an angle that created the illusion of closeness. He claimed it was proof of my infidelity.
I tried to explain that I didnt know the man, that he could have been any passerby. Marek refused to listen. He was deaf to my words, as if he had already decided to believe the lie.
That night my mother was crushedby shame and humiliation. We had to call the family to announce that the wedding was cancelled, that his daughter was pregnant, and that the fiancé had fled, leaving me on the brink of motherhood.
Five months later I gave birth to a boy. I named him André. My parents, despite everything, stood by me, even though I saw how much it cost them. They held onfor me and for my child.
I tried not to think of Marek. Eventually I learned the truth. His mother never wanted me in the family. She thought I was too plain, not the kind of daughterinlaw who would obey, be proper. She convinced her son to break off the engagement and to stage the whole drama with the photograph. In my place she had imposed Agathea daughter from an influential family with good connections and money.
Marek married Agathe a few months after our tragedy. But life quickly put things back in order. Agathe turned out not to be who she pretended to be. She immediately confronted her motherinlaw, took over the whole house and let no one interfere in their lives. Marek could not stand it. He went to work in Germany and later requested a divorce.
Recently he started writing to me on social media. He apologizes, says he understands, wants to have contact with André. He claims it doesnt matter who the father is, as long as the boy is near him.
I no longer believe him. My trust has turned to ash. I dont want my son to grow up close to someone capable of such betrayalsomeone who ignored his own heart and followed his mothers orders, who chose 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 Marek may his conscience haunt him. If any ounce of the love he once swore to me remains, he will understand why I never opened the door when he knocked after ten years.
And perhaps that will be his real punishment.
My Cancelled Wedding: I Gave Birth to a Son, and Marek Married the Woman Selected by His Mother
