His Stolen Wedding, Her Perfect Lie

His Stolen Wedding, Her Perfect Lie

Gavin

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My wedding day was supposed to be perfect, just like Chloe and I planned it. White roses, fairy lights, and then I saw it: a giant photo of Chloe and her "best friend" Mark at the entrance, with "Congratulations Chloe & Mark" written beneath. I thought it was a terrible prank, but a hulking man blocked my way, laughing when I said I was the groom. "The groom' s name is Mark. Now get lost before you make a scene," he grunted. My heart pounded as I pushed past him, only to see Chloe on stage in her wedding dress, Mark' s arm possessively around her. "Thank you all for coming to celebrate the happiest day of our lives," Mark announced, as my mind went blank. I shouted Chloe' s name, and for a second, I saw panic in her eyes before it was replaced by cold annoyance. Mark smirked, pointing out a "wedding crasher" as his brother, Dale, stomped towards me, snarling about me getting lost. "This is a misunderstanding! I' m Alex! I' m engaged to Chloe! We were supposed to get married today!" I cried, looking desperately at Chloe, but she wouldn' t meet my gaze. Mark called me a "stalker," and Dale punched me in the stomach, then dragged me out, breaking my arm. I lay on the cold concrete steps, the pain nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest. Just hours earlier, Chloe had woken me, worried she was pregnant, sending me on a wild goose chase for a test across town. She had kissed me, telling me she loved me. It was all a lie. She had stolen our wedding, our friends, and our life. My phone buzzed, a picture of Chloe and Mark, blissful in a hotel room, a smug message from him: "Thanks for setting everything up, buddy. She' s all mine now." Rage burned through me. I called, needing her to confirm the betrayal. "Things change. People change. I chose Mark. He can give me the life I deserve," she said dismissively. I realized then: I was just a placeholder. The entire five years was a lie. The devastating truth wasn' t just about a wedding lost, but a life stolen. I moved out, blocking her everywhere. It was over. But it wasn' t just about moving on. It was about reclaiming everything she tried to erase.

Introduction

My wedding day was supposed to be perfect, just like Chloe and I planned it.

White roses, fairy lights, and then I saw it: a giant photo of Chloe and her "best friend" Mark at the entrance, with "Congratulations Chloe & Mark" written beneath.

I thought it was a terrible prank, but a hulking man blocked my way, laughing when I said I was the groom.

"The groom' s name is Mark. Now get lost before you make a scene," he grunted.

My heart pounded as I pushed past him, only to see Chloe on stage in her wedding dress, Mark' s arm possessively around her.

"Thank you all for coming to celebrate the happiest day of our lives," Mark announced, as my mind went blank.

I shouted Chloe' s name, and for a second, I saw panic in her eyes before it was replaced by cold annoyance.

Mark smirked, pointing out a "wedding crasher" as his brother, Dale, stomped towards me, snarling about me getting lost.

"This is a misunderstanding! I' m Alex! I' m engaged to Chloe! We were supposed to get married today!" I cried, looking desperately at Chloe, but she wouldn' t meet my gaze.

Mark called me a "stalker," and Dale punched me in the stomach, then dragged me out, breaking my arm.

I lay on the cold concrete steps, the pain nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

Just hours earlier, Chloe had woken me, worried she was pregnant, sending me on a wild goose chase for a test across town.

She had kissed me, telling me she loved me. It was all a lie.

She had stolen our wedding, our friends, and our life. My phone buzzed, a picture of Chloe and Mark, blissful in a hotel room, a smug message from him: "Thanks for setting everything up, buddy. She' s all mine now."

Rage burned through me. I called, needing her to confirm the betrayal.

"Things change. People change. I chose Mark. He can give me the life I deserve," she said dismissively.

I realized then: I was just a placeholder. The entire five years was a lie.

The devastating truth wasn' t just about a wedding lost, but a life stolen.

I moved out, blocking her everywhere. It was over. But it wasn' t just about moving on. It was about reclaiming everything she tried to erase.

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I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

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