Discarded Bride, Billionaire's Obsession

I should have known something was wrong when my fiancé didn't answer my calls all morning.

I stood in the bridal suite, staring at myself in the mirror. The white dress hugged my body perfectly—too perfectly, actually, because I'd barely eaten for three days straight. My stomach had been in knots since Monday when Adrian came home smelling like her perfume. Again.

"Miss Emma, you look beautiful," the makeup artist said, touching up my lipstick.

I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to believe that today would be different. That Adrian would look at me the way he used to, back when we first met at that charity gala three years ago. Before his childhood friend Melissa came back from Paris. Before everything turned cold.

My phone buzzed. Finally.

Adrian:Running late. Start without me.

Start without him? At our own wedding?

My hands shook as I typed back.

Me:What do you mean start without you? Adrian, everyone's already seated.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Adrian:Just walk down the aisle. I'll be there.

Gosh!...I couldn't think straight.Something twisted in my chest. This wasn't right. Nothing about this felt right.

"Miss Emma?" The wedding planner poked her head in. "It's time."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe he really was just stuck in traffic. Maybe I will just assume what it is not.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, I heard it.

Crying.

Not sad crying. The high-pitched, dramatic kind that made everyone stop and stare.

I rushed toward the sound, my heels clicking against the marble floor. A crowd had gathered near the bride's private entrance—the one I was supposed to use.

And there she was.

Melissa.

Wearing my wedding dress. The same designer, the same lace details, the same everything. Except hers was stained with red wine down the front, and she was sobbing into Adrian's chest while he held her like she was made of glass.

I was caught between shock and disbelief so many emotions at once that I just froze. I didn't know whether to cry, laugh or just stare.

"I'm so sorry!" she wailed. "I just wanted to try it on, to see what Emma would look like, and then someone bumped into me with their wine and now it's ruined and…"

"Shh, it's okay," Adrian murmured, stroking her hair. "We'll figure it out."

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach.

"What the hell is going on?" My voice came out sharper than I intended.

Everyone turned. Adrian's eyes met mine, and for a split second—just a split second, I saw something that looked like guilt.

Then it was gone.

"Emma, thank God." He didn't let go of Melissa. "There's been an accident. Melissa was just…"

"Why is she wearing a wedding dress?" I cut him off. "Why is she wearing my wedding dress?"

"It's not yours, it's just similar…" Melissa started, but I wasn't listening anymore.

I pushed through the crowd and grabbed the fabric. Same embroidery. Same pearl buttons I'd spent hours choosing. Same custom alterations.

My jaw dropped. No, it couldn’t be. This is my dress. My exact dress. The same color, same cut, same everything. My chest tightened, I blinked twice, hoping I was hallucinating. But no, she stood there, confidently, shamelessly, wearing what was supposed to be mine. A scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. I wasn’t just shocked, I was stunned, insulted, and honestly, on the edge of losing it. My thoughts spiraled: Is this a joke? My emotions were everywhere confused, angry and a hint of betrayal battling in my chest like a storm I couldn’t calm.

Adrian sighed. "Emma, you're making a scene."

"I'm making a scene?" I laughed, and it sounded unhinged even to my own ears. "Your friend is wearing my wedding dress on my wedding day, and I'm making a scene?"

"She was trying to help," he said, his voice dropping to that cold, dismissive tone I'd grown to hate. "She wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, so she tried it on to check the fit, and there was an accident. That's it."

"That's it?" I repeated in profuse anger.

"Don't be childish, Emma." He finally released Melissa, stepping toward me. "The guests are waiting. Go get changed into your actual dress, and let's get this over with."

Get this over with what exactly.Does he thinks I'm dumb. What the hell just happened here. My mind was racing and my body didn't know how to respond.

That's what our wedding was to him. Something to get over with.

"Where's my dress, Adrian?" I looked at him straight in the eye trying to stay composed. I wanted to be sure.

"What?"

"My dress. The one I'm supposed to be wearing. Where is it?"

He exchanged a look with Melissa. That look told me everything I needed to know.

"You gave her my dress," I whispered. "You gave her my wedding dress."

"Emma, listen…"

"No." I took a step back. "No, you listen. I've been listening for six months. I've been listening while you came home late, while you forgot our anniversaries, while you took her to the places we were supposed to go together. I've been listening while you turned into a stranger."

"This isn't the time," Adrian hissed, grabbing my arm. His fingers dug into my skin. "We have three hundred people out there."

I looked at those three hundred people. His family. His business partners. His friends.

Not a single person from my side. Because he'd said we needed to keep the guest list professional. Because my family wasn't important enough, wasn't wealthy enough, wasn't connected enough.

"Let go of me," I said.

"Emma…"

"Let go, what don't you understand in that!" I screamed

He did, but his eyes were furious. "You're embarrassing yourself."

"No," I said, louder this time. "I'm saving myself."

I turned to face the crowd. Every phone was out. Every eye was on me. Good.

"There won't be a wedding today," I announced. "Because the groom seems to have already chosen his bride, and it isn't me."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Adrian's face went white, then red.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

"I'm calling off this joke of a wedding."

I yanked the engagement ring off my finger—the one that had never quite fit right because he'd bought it without asking my size and threw it at his feet.

"And Melissa? Since you wanted my dress so badly, you can pay for it. Fifteen thousand dollars. I'll send you the invoice." I said to her

Then I walked away.

I didn't run. Didn't cry. Just walked, one foot in front of the other, while whispers exploded behind me.

My heart was pounding so hard, I could hear it in my ears. My hands were trembling, my throat was tight like I’d swallowed a scream. But I didn’t turn back. I couldn’t.

The hall had gone silent like everyone had stopped breathing at once. I felt their eyes on me. I felt the weight of it all, pressing on my chest. But I just kept walking.

My wedding dress, my own dress was on another woman. And the man I was supposed to marry? He stood there, stunned, not saying a word.

I had thrown the ring. Told her to pay for the dress. And then I left.

Inside of me, I was shaking, angry, hurt, embarrassed but also proud. Proud that I chose myself this fucking time that I didn’t stay and pretend everything was okay.

I didn’t know where I was going, or what tomorrow would look like. But at that moment, I knew I was done settling.

And somehow, that was enough.