I’m 29, and Luke was EVERYTHING to me. He was the perfect guy. My family adored him. My dad actually cried when Luke asked for his blessing to marry me. We were building a life together, or so I thought.
Two weeks before the wedding, I was at his apartment when a notification flashed on the smart TV: “Zoe (work)”. He was in the shower. It seemed innocent enough, but something in my gut screamed, CHECK IT.
Thank God I did.
I opened his messages and saw EVERYTHING. It wasn’t just a fling. It was months of conversations. Hotels. Pet names. But the cruelty was what broke me. He even mocked my texts with her.
Then I found the picture that made me sick. A photo of my wedding dress hanging in his closet, captioned “Costume is ready.”
I kept scrolling and found his true motive. “Once we’re married, I’m in with her family’s business. Set for life.” He didn’t want me; he wanted my father’s company. And the final nail in the coffin: Below that was a photo of a positive pregnancy test. She was carrying his baby while I planned our wedding.
I sat there shaking. Part of me wanted to scream, cancel everything, and expose him immediately. But he would just spin a story. He would try to manipulate my dad.
But I’m better than that. I put the remote down. I deleted the evidence that I had read the messages so they remained “unread.” I kissed him goodbye when he got out of the shower.
I showed up at the wedding.
I walked down the aisle, looking radiant. Luke looked smug, thinking he had won the lottery. When we got to the altar, the officiant began. When asked for my vows, I turned to the crowd.
“I decided to write my own vows today,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Because Luke has been writing so much lately, I thought I’d share his words instead of mine.”
I read the texts. Every. Single. One.
I read the part about the “costume.” I read the part about being “set for life” thanks to my dad. And finally, I looked at Zoe, who was sitting in the third row as a “work friend,” and announced the pregnancy.
“Luke,” I said, handing my bouquet to my stunned maid of honor. “You’re right. This was a costume. And the show is over.”
My dad, red-faced with fury, had security escort Luke out of the venue. I turned the reception into a “Dodged a Bullet” party. The cake was delicious.
