I thought I was about to marry a thriving entrepreneur, until his real wife showed up at the ceremony with three kids.
Girl, youve lost your mind! Shes a oneofakind design, you cant just have her restitched! declared the couturier, flinging his arms dramatically. Its like asking Leonardo daVinci to give the Mona Lisa a moustache!
Im paying £440 for this dress and I expect it to fit like a glove, Emily said calmly, though her nerves were simmering. You can see theres excess fabric that needs cutting. Ive lost weight over the past month.
You were the same weight at the last fitting! the designer scoffed. Brides might lose a few pounds, but not that fast. This gown was cut to your exact measurements.
Simon Whitaker, the wedding is in three days. Ive no time for arguments. Please make the alterations Im asking for.
Simon gave her a disgruntled glance, then nodded. The dress did indeed hang a little baggy. Emily had dropped five kilograms in the month leading up to the weddingnot from dieting, but from endless errands and stress. Invitations, the venue, the photographer, the florist every detail rested on her shoulders. James was too wrapped up in his business to worry about such minutiae.
Fine, Simon softened, pricking the fabric with pins. Well make a queen out of you. But dont lose any more weight, or I wont take responsibility for the result.
Emily smiled at her reflection. The white dress, with its lace bodice and billowing skirt, looked like something out of a fairy tale. She turned sideways, admiring the silhouette. Could it really be that in three days shed become the wife of James Hart, owner of a construction firm and, incidentally, the most charming man shed ever met?
Her phone buzzed. A text from James: Running late at a meeting. See you tonight. Kiss.
Emily stifled a sigh the third time that week. But business demanded attention. After the wedding theyd have more time for each other.
That evening, while waiting for James at home, she flipped through photos for the wedding album. Here was their first seaside getaway, a ski trip in the Alps, and the restaurant where James proposed. Ten months together wasnt a long courtship, but when you know hes the one, why wait?
A knock announced Jamess return. He dropped his blazer on the sofa, smiled, and pulled Emily into a kiss.
Sorry Im late. Investors from Manchester needed my focus.
No problem, Emily replied, grinning. Hungry? Ill heat up dinner.
I grabbed a bite at the office, James said, eyes flicking to his phone. Tell me how the fitting went.
Emily launched into a tale of the capricious designer; James nodded absentmindedly, his gaze drifting back to the screen.
Youre not listening, she noted.
Sorry, urgent matter, he typed a quick reply. What was that?
Never mind, Emily stood. Im off to the shower. Its been a long day.
The water washed away fatigue, but not the lingering unease. Lately James seemed distant perhaps wedding nerves, perhaps work pressure? She stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and heard James murmuring into his phone from the bedroom.
Yes, everythings fine. No, dont worry, Ive got it under control Right, of course Me too
Emily froze in the hallway. Who was he speaking to so tenderly? She crept to the door.
Ill be home soon, James said, ending the call.
Home? But he was already home. A knot tightened in Emilys chest. She opened the door.
Who were you talking to?
James flinched, turned:
Victor, my deputy. We were discussing tomorrows meeting.
You said youd be home soon.
What? Oh I meant Id be at the office soon. Misspoke. Im exhausted, Emily.
She wanted to argue, but James already moved in for a hug. He smelled expensive cologne with a faint hint of something floral. Emily brushed it off, assuming his secretary had been nearby.
Three days, and youll be Emily Hart, he whispered, grinning. Sounds lovely, doesnt it?
She nestled against his chest, doubts flickering like nervous fireworks. What could possibly go wrong?
The next day Emily visited her friend Claire to collect the beaded shoes shed asked her to embellish.
You look worried, Claire observed over tea. Prewedding panic?
I dont know. Yesterday James sounded odd on the phone, saying hed be home soon even though he was already home.
Maybe he misspoke.
He did, but it soundeddifferent. And there was that hint of perfume.
Emily, youre being paranoid. He runs a company with half the staff being women. Of course he might smell a bit of perfume.
Emily forced a smile, though the anxiety lingered.
Are you both ready for married life? Youve barely lived together.
Weve spent weekends away, went on holidays. Thats enough to know someone.
And the parents? He still hasnt introduced you to his.
His folks live up north, retired, will come for the wedding.
Strange youve never visited them in ten months.
James is busy. You know, construction firm, office in the city centre, trips abroad
And none of his business partners will attend the wedding?
Theyll be there Victor and a few others.
Claire raised an eyebrow, staying quiet. Emily knew Claire had been skeptical from the start too perfect, too mysterious, too busy. Not every man is an open book, after all.
That night Emily decided to talk. They were in the kitchen, James scrolling on his tablet, she stirring a sauce.
James, I need to ask are we really ready for marriage?
He looked up, surprised.
What do you mean?
We still dont know much about each other. Ive never been to your house, never met your parents, barely know your friends.
Emily, weve discussed this a hundred times, James said, putting the tablet down. Ive been staying at your flat while my house is being renovated. Youll meet my parents at the wedding. As for friends I dont have many. Im a workaholic, you know that.
But
No buts, he said, stepping behind her and hugging her. In two days youll be my wife. Well move into the new house I bought for us. A wonderful life, I promise.
Emily nodded. She hadnt seen the house yet; James claimed it was a surprise for after the wedding. The idea was sweet, yet it prickled her nerves.
By the way, did you collect the rings from the jeweller?
James froze.
Not yet. Ill swing by tomorrow.
Maybe Ill go myself. I need to be in that area anyway.
No! Thats my job. Ill take care of everything.
That night Emily lay awake while James slept soundly beside her. She loved him, trusted him, yet a part of her screamed danger.
Morning came, and James left early, saying he had to settle work matters before the wedding. Emily was alone and decisive. She dug up Victors contact from her phone and called.
Hello? a male voice answered.
Good afternoon, this is Emily, James Harts bridetobe, she introduced. I need some details about tomorrows event.
Excuse me? Victor sounded puzzled. Which event?
Our wedding, Emily said, heart tightening. Youre invited, right?
A long pause.
I dont know any James Hart, Victor finally said. Perhaps you have the wrong number.
But youre his deputy at the construction firm
Im an accountant at a travel agency. Ive never worked in construction.
Emily slumped onto a chair, legs numb. She thanked Victor and hung up, staring at the empty wall. Who was the man shed been planning a life with?
Trembling, she opened her laptop and typed the company name James supposedly owned. She found several firms with similar titles, but none listed a director named James Hart. Social media yielded nothing. She rummaged through a box of his documents a passport shed never seen, a drivers licence, a business card. She called the number on the card; the answering machine claimed the number didnt exist.
The front door opened James was back. She quickly shoved the papers back into the box.
What are you up to? he asked, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Just looking at our photos, Emily replied, lying. Big day tomorrow.
Right, I grabbed the rings. Want to see?
He produced a velvety box; two gold bands gleamed on a cushion.
Beautiful, Emily whispered, a lump forming in her throat.
Try them on? he offered, pulling out the smaller one.
No, thatd be bad luck. Youll wear them tomorrow.
James chuckled.
My superstitious bride. Fine, surprise it is.
He smelled his cologne mixed with a faint floral scent. Emily dismissed it as his secretarys perfume.
Im heading to Claires for the night, she said. The tradition, you know the groom doesnt see the bride before the ceremony.
Of course, James agreed. Ill stay with a mate. See you tomorrow, love.
He kissed her long and tenderly, as if it might be the last. A tear slipped down her cheek.
At Claires, Emily spilled everything the call to Victor, the deadend research, the odd smells and words.
Im scared hes not who he says he is, she concluded, wiping her eyes.
Lets doublecheck his full name, Claire suggested. James Hart, born 15May1979.
Claire typed furiously, brow furrowed.
Nothing. No trace. Usually a successful businessman pops up in news or forums.
Maybe hes just private?
Or a fraud. That fake Victor Emily, youre being duped. Why?
Money? Emily guessed. But I have none. Im just a teacher.
Property? Car?
I live with my parents, no car.
Could he be a conman planning to marry, grab gifts, then vanish?
That happens.
Claire nodded. Ive read about it. Usually the victims are wealthy, but not always.
Emily spent a sleepless night. By morning she felt oddly calm. She decided she would still attend the ceremony, face the man whod lied for ten months, and ask why.
The wedding was set at a modest country house outside Surrey. Emily arrived an hour early to change and prep. Guests were already gathering: her parents, friends, coworkers. Jamess side was conspicuously absent.
In the bridal suite, friends fussed over her dress and hair. The gown fit perfectly, but Emily felt like she was wearing someone elses skin.
James is here, one friend announced, peeking in. Looking sharp in his suit!
Her heart hammered.
Fifteen minutes left. Emily stood by the window watching the last cars pull up. Then a silver minivan rolled up, and a welldressed woman stepped out with three children. She looked nervous, her eyes scanning the entrance. The kids obediently followed her.
A chill ran down Emilys spine. Something told her this wasnt a coincidence. She slipped out of the suite and into the main hall, where guests were already mingling. James stood near the registration desk, back to the door. The womens entrance caused a hush. James turned slowly, his face draining of colour.
Paul? the woman whispered, voice shaking. Whats happening?
Emily moved closer, still not grasping the situation. Was James now Paul?
Alice, he finally managed, what are you doing here?
What am I doing? Your mother called, said you were about to get married! Paul, we have three kids!
The crowd murmured. Emily felt the floor tilt. She clutched a nearby chair.
James? she called out. Who is this woman?
Theres no James, Alice shouted. His name is PaulKerr. Hes my husband, the father of these children, a manager at a car dealership.
Emily stared at the kids two boys and a girl, ages ten, eight and four, looking bewildered.
Dad? the oldest asked, tugging at Pauls sleeve. Why are you in a tuxedo? Is this a wedding?
Quiet, Kyle, Alice scolded. Dad will explain everything.
Paul, now visibly flustered, tried to speak.
Everyone, go outside. Ill explain.
Alice crossed her arms.
Im not leaving until I know whats going on.
Emily stepped forward, eyes locked on the man shed thought she loved.
Who are you really? she asked quietly.
He lowered his head.
PaulKerr.
Are you married?
Yes.
And these are your children?
Yes.
Emily felt something snap inside her. All the promises, the future plans a web of lies.
Why? she managed, voice trembling. Why did you pretend to be a businessman?
Paul opened his mouth, then closed it. The silence in the hall was so thick you could hear a fly buzz.
I didnt plan this, he finally said, eyes darting. It just got out of hand.
Out of hand? Emily repeated. You dated me for ten months, proposed, organized a wedding, and now its out of hand?
I met you by chance, Paul began. You were beautiful, smart. I wanted to impress you, so I said I owned a firm. Then I couldnt stop.
Alice interjected, He was after gifts, the wedding presents He thought he could disappear after the ceremony.
No! Paul protested. I wouldnt do that to you, Emily.
Alice shook her head. Hes been leading a double life for two years. Business trips, late meetings all excuses.
Emily stared, bewildered.
Did you know he was married? she asked Alice.
No, Alice replied, eyes wet. I only found out yesterday when he said hed be home soon while already being home.
The children shuffled toward the door.
Were going home, Alice said, gathering them. You can stay if you want, Paul, but Im taking them away.
She left, head held high.
Paul stood alone, surrounded by judgmental gazes. Emily looked at him, the man shed once thought shed love with all her heart.
You need to leave, she said softly.
Emily, please, let me explain
Theres nothing to explain, she replied, shaking her head. Just go.
He lingered a moment, then walked out without anyone stopping him.
Emily remained in the centre of the hall, the white dress stark against the subdued crowd. A strange mix of emptiness and relief washed over her. Claire slipped beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
Lets get out of here. Ill drive you home.
No, Emily said suddenly, looking at the paid banquet, the guests already gathered. Weve already spent the money. Lets just celebrate.
Celebrate what? Claire asked.
My freedom, Emily replied with a faint smile. Imagine if shed shown up after the ceremony, or a year later, or after wed already had kids.
She scanned the guests.
Sorry for the spectacle. There wont be a wedding, but the banquets paid, the music booked. Lets just have a good time.
Emily was the first to pour herself a glass of champagne and gulp it down. Within an hour, people were dancing, laughing, sharing stories. The sting of betrayal still burned, but something inside told her shed get through this.
Late that night, as the last guests trickled out, Emily sat on the restaurant steps, still in her gown. Claire joined, offering a glass of water.
How are you? she asked.
I dont know, EmilyShe smiled, feeling the sunrise of a new chapter ahead.
