ManyWriters

I made my way back to Illinois discreetly, holding onto my bridal gown—a reminder of the vow Jason Grey and I had exchanged three years prior. My pulse quickened with excitement as I neared the location of our long-awaited meeting. Instead of the loving encounter I had envisioned, I walked into a shocking scene.
There stood Jason, his fingers interlaced with those of another woman. But this wasn't just any woman—she was an exact replica of me. A doppelganger.
They were in the midst of their betrothal ceremony.
The instant her watery gaze met mine, she became still, then burst into tears. Without uttering a word, she darted from the room, stumbling as if fleeing from a specter.
Jason turned to face me, anger evident in his attractive face. "Why must you look like that?" he barked. "You're causing distress to everyone!"
His harsh words cut deep. Before I could reply, the man I once believed in chased after his 'fiancée', abandoning me to embarrassment and confusion.
The gathering was merciless. Pointing fingers, hushed gossip turned to jeering laughter as I became the focus of their amusement. My supposed friends—familiar faces that once greeted me warmly—made no effort to conceal their contempt.
"Did you have to return and spoil everything? Wouldn't it have been better if you'd remained deceased overseas?"
"For all this time, Paula had to bear your likeness as if it were a hex. The moment you reappear, you bring chaos like a tempest."
"Offer an apology and show remorse, or our friendship is over."
Revulsion filled their eyes, but I remained unmoved. I allowed their words to slide off me like water off a duck's back. Without a backward glance, I phoned my mother.
"Mom," I said, my tone unwavering and icy, "I'll say yes to the Moore family's marriage proposal."
The room fell into shocked quiet as I exited, leaving their chatter and criticism behind. These so-called companions weren't deserving of my concern.

My Husband's Shocking Betrayal at the Altar

"Consider cosmetic surgery. I'll cover the expenses, and then we can tie the knot."


Jason's words oozed conceit, as though he were offering me the universe on a golden tray.


"You're the spitting image of Paula. It's left a wound in her soul, and this is how you'll make amends. It's the toll for becoming my wife."


I gazed at him, stunned, before yanking off the band on my finger—the one bearing Paula's initials—and flinging it directly at his visage.


I spun around and strode towards the chamber, but his taunting voice trailed me like a specter.


"Hailey, quit the act. Don't you desire marriage? Stop being absurd."


His demeanor was pompous and self-assured. "Until you rectify that face, forget about becoming my bride."


He genuinely believed matrimony was a tether to control me. He was oblivious—I've never been one to grovel for leftovers.


3#03