He Gave My Wedding to Another Woman

On my wedding day, I—the bride—rode to my own ceremony in a cab.

When the motorcade arrived to fetch the bride, my fiancé stopped me in front of the bridal car.

“Isabel Sullivan's riding in this one. I'll call you a separate cab.”

I froze on the spot.

Anthony James went on:

“Isabel's anti-marriage. She wants to experience what getting married feels like.”

“I already agreed. She'll be the one walking in during the entrance ceremony.”

I turned my head, and there was Isabel, his girl buddy, already changed into a wedding gown and settled into the lead bridal car.

Seeing me on the verge of tears, Anthony sighed and offered comfort.

“The wedding's just a formality. As long as we've got the marriage license, we're good.”

“Besides, once Isabel's had her turn, you can still walk down the aisle again.”

With that, he didn't so much as glance back, sweeping off with dozens of wedding cars roaring behind him.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

It had been like this since we started planning the wedding.

All because Isabel was anti-marriage, and would never have a wedding of her own.

So she got to try on the gown first. She got to pick the venue.

And now, even the wedding itself, she got to experience first.

The light turned red, and the fleet of bridal cars sped up, leaving the cab far behind.

The driver, hands on the wheel, called back over his shoulder:

“Miss, which way do we go from here?”

I looked at the bridal cars, their tail already out of sight, and gave the driver a small smile.

“We're not going. Turn around.”

Whether it was the wedding or the man, I didn't want anything someone else had already test-driven.

……

The words landed in the gap as the car's music switched tracks.

The air went quiet for a few seconds.

The driver blinked, leaned back a little, and raised his voice a notch.

“What'd you say, miss? Turn around?”

I ran my fingers over the gown I was wearing.

I opened my phone. There on the lock screen, our engagement photo, me and Anthony smiling like the happiest people alive.

The scattered gossip of passersby drifted in through the crack in the window.

“Did you see that? That motorcade just now was ridiculous—Maseratis, Porsches……dozens of luxury cars!”

“They say the pricier the wedding cars, the more blessed the bride. That groom must love her so much.”

My fingers paused, so slightly it was almost invisible.

Another voice sighed.

“Same species, different fates, I'm telling you. I just came from over by the Southbay Hotel, and I even saw a bride riding to her own wedding in a cab.”

“No way……”

The screen went dark, the hem of my dress crumpling between my fingers.

I swallowed down the ache in my throat and said it again.

“Yes, sir.”

“Back to the hotel. I'm not getting married.”

The countdown ended, red flipping to green.

Behind us came the impatient blare of horns.

The driver closed the mouth that had been about to say something more, spun the wheel fast, and swung the car around.

As the car settled into a smooth drive, I got a message from Anthony.

【I'm the one who had the motorcade lose you on purpose. Don't chase after us.】

【Tell the driver to slow down. Don't run into Isabel when you get to the hotel—she doesn't like anyone stealing her thunder.】

【And when you get there, come in through the back by the hotel kitchen. Isabel's sensitive about appearances, and if people see you and her walking into the same ballroom and start talking, it'll be hard for her to explain.】

It was rare for Anthony to send me a message this long.

From appearances to the fine print, every single word had Isabel's interests in mind.

Yet just a short while ago, when I'd been dragged off the bridal car and over to the cab in front of everyone,

he'd never once considered whether people would talk about me, whether I'd lose face.

I opened the message box and typed, one character at a time.

【I'm not marrying you. Do whatever you want.】

Just as I was about to hit send, messages started exploding across the top of my screen.