Found Out My Fiancee, the Actress, Was Married to Someone Else

The night I had planned to propose, I stumbled upon a marriage certificate hidden in her closet.

I stood frozen, my eyes fixated on the photo of the two of them, smiling as if the world could do no wrong. The image hit me like a sledgehammer, a sudden shock that made my chest tighten with pain.

Just then, Eleanor Miller’s voice pierced through the silence, sharp with irritation. "Where did you disappear to? You slipped out the moment the party started."

"Maverick covered for me. He drank so much he’s sick now."

Her tone softened at the mention of Maverick, a flicker of concern slipping through.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Isn’t that his job?”

After all, he was your real husband.

Before she could respond, another call lit up my screen. Relieved to have an excuse to end the conversation, I answered without hesitation.

I took a steady breath, my voice calm but resolute. "I accept your proposal. Let’s go tomorrow and get our marriage certificate."

***

Part 1

It was nearly dawn when Eleanor finally stumbled home, her fists pounding on the door in an angry rhythm, echoing through the quiet.

She gave the door a few more kicks as if the sound alone could summon me to her side.

I knew her act too well; she wanted me to notice, to come running and to soothe her frustrations.

But instead of preparing her usual hangover soup or hurrying to let her in, I stayed where I was, unmoved.

When I didn’t open the door, she finally huffed in irritation, digging out her key and letting herself in. Her gaze swept over the room, landing on the empty bottle on the coffee table. Her expression darkened, a scowl tightening her features.

“Isaac, what’s this?” she snapped. “You skipped out on drinks at the dinner table just to come home and drink alone?”

“Do you even realize how many drinks Maverick had to take for me tonight?”

I remained seated on the sofa, unflinching, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.

Tonight, I’d let everyone know at the gathering what I was planning to propose. No one would’ve given Eleanor a hard time; they were just keeping her occupied. I’d left the dinner early to prepare the proposal set up, hoping to surprise her tonight.

Thinking I needed something more formal, I reached for a suit in the closet. But instead, my fingers brushed against a document, a marriage certificate with Eleanor’s name on it, dated just two days prior.

Without a word, I tossed it at her, my voice like ice. “Explain this.”

Just moments earlier, Eleanor had been all smug and self-assured, but now she deflated, a flicker of panic betraying her calm.

“It’s not what you think,” she stumbled over her words. “I… I lost a game of Truth or Dare that night.”

“I picked Dare and the dare was to get a marriage certificate with Maverick.”

The flimsy excuse seemed to restore her confidence. She quickly turned defensive, her tone shifting as she accused, “But what about you? What right do you have to go through my things?”

“This is my home,” I replied.

Sometimes, a broken heart wasn’t more than a fleeting revelation. With Eleanor’s cold words, the last trace of warmth in my heart faded away.

For a moment, I stood stunned, then forced a weary smile. “You’re right. I’ve only myself to blame.”

The moment I saw that marriage certificate, I should’ve walked away. What was I still clinging to?

When we first decided to live together, I already knew Eleanor’s strong-willed nature. I didn’t want to overwhelm her by revealing my true identity, so I kept it hidden, claiming I was just renting an apartment.

Eleanor’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she invited me to stay at her place, saying, “Isaac, from now on, this will be our home.”

Those words made me choose this place, staying in her modest eighty-square-meter apartment rather than my own spacious home. Three years passed and I stayed for her.

This was the first place Eleanor bought with her own earnings from acting. She once told me, “This place may be small, but I poured my heart into making it mine.”