My Fiancé Married Another Woman on Our Wedding Day

Three years together, and Timothy Summers remembered every holiday. The gifts he'd bought me filled an entire cabinet.

No matter how busy work got, he always made time for me, took me on a trip every month.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor. Timothy and I had set a wedding date seven days out, and I'd just been diagnosed with gastric cancer.

I didn't know how to tell him. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

I locked myself away for two days and two nights, and I made my decision. I would be the villain. I'd humiliate him at the wedding so that after I was gone, he could move on.

I hired an actor to crash the ceremony and claim me, even forged a pregnancy test to sell the lie.

I cried through every second of the planning. But for Timothy's future, I had to do it.

On the day of the wedding, the car never came.

Myrtle James, look. My best friend April Fletcher held out her phone. Timothy isn't marrying you.

One of Timothy's buddies had posted a video. Timothy, carrying a bride into the wedding car.

Then a text from Timothy came through.

Myrtle, I'll explain

I sat there. Couldn't move. April was saying something, but the words didn't reach me.

I just kept watching the video of Timothy carrying Jemima Fox into that car. Over and over.

How?

I had already decided to bow out, to give Timothy his future.

But he had never planned to give me one.

I had mapped out every detail of my final days. The actor who would crash the wedding today. The fake pregnancy.

All of it, so Timothy would hate me.

Then the actor would abandon me, and I'd play the desperate woman chasing after him, sign over every last share I owned to Timothy.

After that, I'd disappear. Somewhere he'd never find me. And quietly leave this world.

For him, I was willing to become the woman everyone pointed at and called a traitor.

And in the end he'd never intended to make me his wife at all.

Myrtle, pull yourself together. We're going over there right now and getting answers. April shook my shoulders, dragging me out of the grief and back into the room.

I looked at her. Do you think maybe Timothy ran into some kind of problem he couldn't solve?

He loves me so much. He wouldn't do this. Right?

Myrtle, wake up! April pulled me into her arms, crying. He's scum. Pure, absolute scum.

We're going to find him and make him pay.

Make him pay?

Pay for what?

I looked at April. He and I were dating. That's all. We weren't married.

He's free to marry whoever he wants. Just let it go.

Myrtle, what happened to you?

Since when are you this weak?

Where's that edge you bring to every negotiation table?

How can you just let this go? Have you forgotten? You saved his life. You ran into that fire. Without you, he'd be a charred corpse. He got on his knees and swore he'd never marry anyone else.

Have you forgotten? When his business failed, you gave him everything you had to help him rebuild.

You drank yourself into a stomach hemorrhage just to land a deal for him.

You pulled all-nighters for weeks to develop better products. Your hair was falling out in clumps. You can't forget that.

And that animal sure as hell can't forget it either. He owes you.

April, just drop it. Please. I don't want to fight. I'm tired. Can you let me be alone for a while?

My life was already counting down. I really didn't want to make a scene.

I reached over and wiped April's tears. He's just a man. The world keeps spinning without him, doesn't it?

I'm not even crying. Why are you? Come on, smile for me.

April cried harder. You can't just let him get away with this.

I managed a smile. What would making a scene actually get me?

He already made his choice, didn't he? If I go over there, all I'm doing is humiliating myself and giving everyone an even bigger show to watch.

Don't waste time on things that don't matter anymore.

I knew I wasn't really talking to April. I was talking to myself.

Talking down the bitterness clawing at my chest, smothering the fury before it swallowed me whole.

April finally relented. She and the others left one by one.

Maybe this was for the best. He'd found the person he loved, and I no longer had anything tying me down.

It was time to go.

I booked a flight to Lakeshore Haven. All these years I'd been so consumed by work that even when Timothy and I traveled together, we never really stopped to look around.

Every trip was just ticking off a checklist, never a chance to slow down and actually see the world.

In whatever time I had left, I was going to be good to myself.

Before boarding, the hospital called.

When they'd given me the diagnosis a few days ago, they'd mentioned two treatment options, though neither came with any promise of a cure. The best they could offer was more time.

I knew enough about cancer to understand what that meant.

Either option would put my body through hell.

I didn't pick up. For now, I just wanted to figure out how to make whatever life I had left feel wider, even if I couldn't make it longer. The length, I'd already accepted.

The plane touched down and I headed straight for Crystal Lake. By the time I arrived, the sun hung low on the horizon.

I sat by the water, letting the wind wash over me.

A couple wandered into my line of sight, posing for a photographer, shifting from one arrangement to the next.

The bride's white gown was blinding. It cut right through me, and the tears came before I could stop them.

From the moment I learned it was Jemima that Timothy was marrying, I'd told myself I was fine. Told myself I could accept it all with grace.

But now the tears and the grief poured out together, and there was no holding them back.

I curled into myself and let them fall.

I missed home.

If I'd listened to my parents back then, I wouldn't have run myself into the ground trying to make a living. Maybe I never would have gotten sick at all.

And now, on top of everything, I was the woman who'd been thrown away.

With a disease like this, I couldn't bring myself to call my family. I didn't want them to see what I'd become.

I pulled myself together. I refused to let anyone see me break.

I didn't know how other people handled staring down their own mortality.

All I knew was that fear filled every corner of me, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't quiet it.

My first night in Lakeshore Haven, I didn't sleep at all.

Timothy and I had talked about death once. He'd said he hoped I would go first.

He knew how much I feared being alone. He worried I wouldn't manage the small, grinding details of life by myself, worried I'd cry alone in the dark.

We were both still alive, and I was already facing the darkness on my own, already drowning in the terror of dying.

The moment the sky lightened, I ran to the balcony and gulped down the air like I was starving for it, standing in the first pale warmth of morning, feeling proof that I was still here.

And once more my mind circled back: what if Timothy had run into some problem he couldn't solve? What if he was facing something as dire as I was, and marrying Jemima was just his way of pushing me away to protect me?

My fingers tightened around my phone. The urge to turn it on was almost unbearable, to reach out to our mutual friends, to dig for any scrap of news about him.

I was seconds from powering it on when I looked up and saw two figures outside the hotel.

Timothy and Jemima.

They were here. Of all places, they were here. I moved to duck out of sight, but Jemima spotted me first.

She nudged Timothy. He lifted his head, and something complicated flickered across his face.

He murmured a few words close to Jemima's ear, then walked into the hotel.

I knew he was coming to find me. Was he going to explain?

Timothy stood before me. His eyes still held the tenderness I recognized, but threaded through it now was a struggle I had never seen in him before.

His voice was steady, but it couldn't hide the sadness buried beneath it.

You know as well as I do that we were never going to end up together.

Myrtle, I can't give you a legitimate place by my side. But believe me, I'll convince Jemima to accept you.

When that happens, I'll set you up somewhere. A home, outside of all this.

I could feel it. He did have feelings for me.

He couldn't refuse Jemima, and he didn't want to let me go either.

That so-called devotion of his, for the first time, made me sick. And strangely, the fury I'd been choking on loosened its grip.

Love or not. Sometimes it really does flip in a single moment.

Once the love was gone, so was the hold it had on me.

Don't bother, Timothy. We're done.

Myrtle, I know you're just saying that because you're upset. Don't worry, I'll make it happen soon.

Leave. I didn't look at him again. With that single moment of letting go, the scenery around me looked so much better than it had yesterday.

Myrtle, give me seven days. Just seven days and I'll have Jemima on board.

Timothy. I looked at him and spoke from the bottom of my heart. I've really let go. I wish you both happiness.

Timothy held my gaze, eyes unwavering. You're lying. If you'd really let go, why did you follow me here?

Follow him?

I haven't sunk that low.

Timothy, listen to me carefully. We are truly over. I sincerely wish you and Jemima the best.

Timothy reached out and grabbed my arm. Don't do this. It kills me.

I was about to respond when his expression changed completely.

He shoved me away hard. I told you to stop clinging to me.

I stumbled backward. He closed the distance in two quick strides and slapped me across the face.

I never loved you. Have some self-respect, would you?

The slap was vicious. My legs buckled and I hit the ground. Only then did I notice Jemima walking toward us.

She stepped forward and looped her arm through Timothy's. Don't waste your time on trash like her.

Jemima tugged him away. As they walked, Timothy glanced back at me, his eyes full of regret and guilt.

That tender gaze, from the same man who had just hurt me without mercy.

Stop. I picked myself up off the ground and called after them.

The regret and guilt in Timothy's eyes vanished. His gaze turned cold.

His voice was even colder. I said stop clinging. I don't love you.

Jemima's look wasn't cold. It was something worse: the blank indifference of someone gazing down from a height. Myrtle, Timothy was only with you as an act of rebellion. A way to push back against his parents.

He grew up. You should too. Chasing after him like this is just pathetic.

Timothy picked up right where Jemima left off. She's right. The only reason I was ever with you was because my parents were pushing me to marry Jemima. I liked Jemima, but I resented the arranged marriage.

Now I finally see it clearly. I've always loved Jemima. I just didn't want to be told who to marry. So stop this. We were never on the same level.

My parents will never accept you. And neither will I.

I stared at the two of them. Chasing after him had never once crossed my mind. I hadn't called out to them for that.

Timothy, you hit me just now. Apologize.

His betrayal, his leaving. I'd accepted that.

But that slap? That I would never accept.

Timothy kept shooting me desperate looks, signaling with his eyes. I just stared back and waited for his apology.

When Jemima turned to look at him, Timothy instantly hardened his expression. Apologize to you? For what?

Because you won't stop throwing yourself at me? Because you can't take a hint? Or because you

Because you put your hands on me. Apologize. I stepped forward and locked my eyes on his.

Jemima let go of Timothy and walked toward me.

Do you know why Timothy chose me over you?

I didn't want to know. I didn't care anymore.

Crack

I never saw it coming. Jemima's hand shot up and caught me across the face before I could react.

Because you and I aren't equals. Because I can hit you, and all you can do is take it.

That's the gap between us. That's why you were never a match for Timothy.

Don't think that starting some little company with Timothy actually gave you status in this world.

Compared to the Fox family, compared to the Summers family, you're nothing. An ant.

Timothy hit you. I hit you. And all you can do is scream for an apology. But if we don't apologize, what are you going to do about it?

What was I going to do about it?

I was going to hit back.

I swung left and right, slapping Jemima across the face twice.

Timothy rushed over and kicked me to the ground, then came after me swinging.

The difference in strength between a man and a woman left me with no way to fight back.

And with Jemima helping him, I was outnumbered. But I kept resisting, kept throwing my fists at both of them even as they beat me down.

I was already terminally ill. I had nothing left to fear.

Kill me then! Go ahead, kill me if you've got the guts!

Timothy, it breaks my heart. Jemima stopped and grabbed his arm. Watching you get harassed by trash like her, it really breaks my heart.

Stop hitting her. She's not worth dirtying your hands.

Only then did Timothy stop. I lay on the ground, pain screaming through every inch of my body.

My ribs were probably broken. I tried to get up but couldn't.

Myrtle, you brought this on yourself. Timothy spat at me. The laughable part was I could see a sheen of tears in his eyes.

What a twisted man he was.

I lay on the ground, staring up at the sky.

I started laughing. At myself. At Timothy.

I laughed until tears streamed down my face, laughed until it ached.

She's lost it. Just ignore her. Jemima tugged Timothy along to leave.

They'd barely taken a few steps when Timothy's phone rang.

An unknown number.

He glanced at Jemima. I'll never take a call behind your back.

He'd said that exact line to me once. It was his way of proving loyalty.

Now he'd given those words to Jemima. He answered the call and put it on speaker.

Am I speaking with Mr. Summers?

Yes. Who is this?

I'm a doctor at Central Hospital. We've been unable to reach Ms. James, and you're listed as her emergency contact.

Regarding her gastric cancer