1 The night before my wedding, I drove forty miles to bring my fiancé’s mistress to our house. When Patrick pushed the front door open, he was greeted by the sight of the two of us sitting in the living room, sharing a quiet pot of tea. He let out a visible sigh of relief. “Rebecca, since you already know, it’s best if Brooke stays here with us.” He stepped closer, adjusting his collar. “You are still my legal wife, but Brooke is fragile. Let her have tomorrow’s ceremony first. Once she settles down and her emotions are stable, I will come back and marry you.” I took a slow sip of my tea, remaining silent. Taking my silence as agreement, Patrick didn’t waste another second. He grabbed Brooke’s hand and took her upstairs to choose from my wedding wardrobe. I didn’t get angry. I simply unlocked my phone, opened a private group chat, and sent a single message: I’m getting married tomorrow, but I’m missing a groom. Who’s in? Instantly, the thread exploded. Patrick’s closest friends began replying one after another, practically tripping over themselves to claim the spot. I let out a soft laugh. You see, Patrick, if you won’t marry me, there are plenty of men who will. … I muted the group notifications and set my phone down. “Rebecca, Mr. Patrick wants you to bring down tomorrow’s wedding dress.” The housekeeper walked over, pausing uncomfortably before continuing. “He said since you won’t be getting married tomorrow anyway, his bride might as well use it.” That wedding dress. I had spent six months designing it and another year flying across the country, hand-stitching every delicate detail myself. Nobody knew better than Patrick how much of my soul I had poured into that gown. Now, just because Brooke wanted to wear it, I was expected to hand it over? “Tell him,” I said quietly, “if he wants it, he can get on his knees and beg.” Half an hour later, the front door was kicked open. Patrick marched in, followed by a dozen boutique assistants, each holding two different designer gowns. He threw himself onto the sofa, casually reaching over to twirl a strand of my hair between his fingers. “Rebecca, our wedding is still a long way off. The girl took a liking to your dress, so let her have it first.” He gestured to the rows of dresses. “Pick one of these. Do you like any of them?” “If you don’t, that’s fine too. Once Brooke is done with yours, you can just wear it for our ceremony. I don’t mind.” Brooke let out a giggling laugh. She threw herself into Patrick’s lap, tracing lazy circles on his chest with her French-tipped nails. “Patrick, you are so bad. You told everyone in the city that Rebecca was never to wear second-hand goods.” She smirked at me. “Now you’re making her wear a dress I used first. She must absolutely hate me.” Patrick didn’t care. He stroked her hair, his voice dripping with easy confidence. “She isn’t that petty.” “Besides, she’s been with me for ten years. Who else is she going to marry if not me?” I looked down, keeping my eyes on my phone. In the group chat, those very same men were sending photos of their tailored suits, trying to present their best selves to me. Every single one of them had posted on social media, expressing how nervous they were about a wedding tomorrow. Patrick’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the posts, letting out a chuckle. “Look at this. Tomorrow is my wedding, but the guys are ordering custom tuxedos overnight. They are taking this more seriously than I am.” He casually unlocked his phone and sent a voice note to the groomsmen’s thread. “Alright, guys, no need to be so formal tomorrow.” “Just treat it like a regular hangout. Eat, drink, and do whatever you want. Just make sure you all show proper respect and call Brooke the lady of the house.” Patrick didn’t notice that not a single person replied to his message. He pulled Brooke closer, settling into a more comfortable position, and reached his hand out toward me. “Rebecca, where do we keep the protection? You know how clingy Brooke is. She practically drapes herself over me every second, and she throws a fit if she doesn’t get her way.” “But don’t worry, I kept my promise to you. The firstborn of this family will still come from your womb.” A bitter smile touched my lips. The promise he made years ago. He only remembered the second half, entirely forgetting the first. When he was twenty, under a sky lit with fireworks, he had sworn that I would be the only woman he would ever marry. He promised that our wedding would be his first, and our child would be his first. Ten years had passed, and everything had turned to ash. Seeing my smile, Patrick blinked, his tone turning unusually serious. “Rebecca, you should smile more. You used to laugh all the time in your early twenties. Now you’re always so cold. It isn’t flattering.” I pulled my smile back, instructing the housekeeper to order a bulk box of protection for him. Patrick instantly forgot his complaints. He seemed highly satisfied with my compliance. He scooped Brooke up in his arms and headed toward the stairs. “Oh, by the way, Rebecca, sleep in the guest room tonight.” “Tomorrow is the big day, and she wants to celebrate tonight. She has a terrible temper when she doesn’t get enough sleep, so have the makeup artists wait outside her door tomorrow morning. They can start once she wakes up.” “Patrick,” I called out, sitting quietly on the sofa. The man at the top of the stairs paused. He glanced back at me, his brow furrowed in annoyance, prompting me to speak quickly. I looked directly into his eyes, speaking slowly and clearly. “Tomorrow’s wedding is still happening.” “If you won’t be the groom, I will find someone else.” 2 Patrick clearly didn’t believe me. He let out a condescending chuckle, shaking his head. “Stop it, Rebecca. This isn’t the time to vie for my attention.” “I need to go keep Brooke happy. If she’s in a good mood tomorrow, maybe she’ll let you be her maid of honor.” In his arms, Brooke pouted, whispering in his ear. Urged by her, Patrick walked up the stairs without looking back. Soon, muffled sounds began to drift down from the master bedroom. The housekeeper stood near the door, opening her mouth several times before finally speaking. “Rebecca, the position of Mrs. Patrick… he has never considered anyone but you.” I looked at the box of protection still sitting on the counter. I gestured toward the stairs. “Take it up to him.” In the middle of the night, my phone rang. My best friend Hazel’s voice blasted through the receiver, nearly deafening me. “Rebecca! What the hell is going on? Why did Patrick just post that your wedding is canceled?” “You two have been planning this for over a year! The venue alone cost millions, not to mention the custom decorations you stayed up nights designing! How can he just call it off?” I sat up, rubbing my temples, entirely drained of sleep. Just as I was about to tell her that the wedding was still on, Hazel’s voice spiked another octave, trembling with fury. “Wait! Is Patrick insane? He just sent out a new digital invite! The wedding is still on, but the bride’s name has been changed to Brooke! Who the hell is Brooke?” I lowered my eyes. Patrick had always been like this. When he loved you, he would give you the world. But when he stopped caring, he would strip everything away without a second thought. Outside, the headlights of a passing car flickered against the window, casting brief shadows across the dark room. “Hazel, don’t worry about any of that,” I said quietly. “Just show up tomorrow. The wedding is still on.” “If he can change the bride, I can change the groom.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Hazel quickly pieced together what was happening, her voice cracking with anger. “That absolute bastard! Yes! Change him! Change him immediately!” “He acted so devoted before the wedding, traveling to twenty-eight countries with you to take photos, renting out a fleet of drones to announce the date! And now he does this? Men are truly worthless!” She began to sniffle, her anger turning to tears. “Rebecca, wait for me. I’m going to kick my boyfriend out of bed right now just to vent some of this anger for you!” I let out a helpless laugh. I wanted to tell her that things weren’t as bleak as they seemed. My backup grooms were highly qualified, each better than the last. Before I could speak, a soft knock came at my door. The housekeeper stood outside, looking deeply apologetic. “Rebecca, Mr. Patrick wants you to come to the master bedroom.” I knew that if I didn’t go, Patrick would only take his frustration out on the staff. I told Hazel to put on her bridesmaid dress and wait for me at the venue, then I hung up and walked upstairs. The half-open door revealed a disheveled room, thick with the scent of their intimacy. Patrick had clearly just showered. Water droplets fell from his damp hair, tracing down his neck over a fresh collar of bite marks. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to ignore the sharp, dull ache in my chest. Seeing me enter, Patrick pointed carelessly at the floor. A crumpled, stained bridesmaid dress lay in the corner. “Rebecca, I know you put a lot of effort into this wedding. Wear this tomorrow and stand as Brooke’s maid of honor. Consider it a way to honor all the planning you did this past year.” Brooke lay under the sheets, a malicious grin playing on her lips. She leaned in, whispering seductively against Patrick’s ear. “Patrick, Rebecca is a designer. Her custom wedding ring must be beautiful. I want it.” My face remained entirely blank. The wedding ring, like the dress, was a piece of art I had spent months sketching, molding, and perfecting with my own hands. Patrick knew this better than anyone. Yet, he only shrugged, his tone incredibly casual. “Rebecca, it’s just a ring. If the girl wants it, let her have it.” “Our actual wedding date isn’t set yet. We have plenty of time for you to design a new one.” He spoke with such absolute entitlement that the dull ache in my chest suddenly vanished. I felt absolutely nothing. I looked at Patrick and repeated myself one last time. “I told you, the wedding is still happening tomorrow.” 3 Patrick stared at me, blinking in surprise before letting out a confident laugh. “How? I’m the groom, and I won’t be there. Who are you going to marry?” “Alright, Rebecca, you aren’t the type to throw a tantrum. I promised I would marry you eventually, and I will keep my word. You just need to be patient and wait a little longer, okay?” Wait. Always waiting. I had waited ten years for him, finally reaching the altar, only to discover he had been cheating on me for the last three. And now he wanted me to wait again? To watch him marry another woman and then wait for him to condescend to bring me home? “I’m done waiting, Patrick.” He didn’t hear me. He glanced at his luxury watch, pulling Brooke back under the covers, throwing a careless remark over his shoulder. “It’s still early. We can go another round. Don’t worry, Rebecca, the firstborn of the family will still come from you.” I looked down, my eyes devoid of any warmth. Leaving the ruined bridesmaid dress on the floor, I turned and walked back to the guest room. The next morning, neither of them woke up early. The makeup artists stood awkwardly in the hallway. I walked up to them. “I am the bride. You can start on me.” I had been the only one coordinating with them for months, so they recognized me immediately. By the time my makeup and hair were nearly finished, Patrick and Brooke finally wandered downstairs. The morning sun streamed through the window, reflecting off my gown. Patrick stopped dead in his tracks, staring at me. The stylist secured the veil to my hair. I lifted the heavy skirt, standing up to face him. Patrick finally snapped out of his trance, pinching the bridge of his nose with a weary sigh. “Rebecca, I told you I would give you a proper wedding later.” “Let Brooke have this one. Be good, take the dress off. She’s going to throw a fit if she sees you in it.” Right on cue, footsteps hurried down the stairs. Brooke ran down, wrapping her arms around Patrick’s. The moment she saw me in the wedding gown, she lost her mind, pointing a finger at me. “Patrick! Today is my wedding! Why is she wearing a wedding dress?” “My mother was a mistress, and I swore I would never be like her. But for you, I threw away my pride! I became the very thing I hated!” Tears welled in her eyes. “For three years, I kept quiet! And now you’re going to make me share my wedding day with another woman?” Patrick immediately leaned down, softly comforting her. His frantic, gentle demeanor looked exactly like the boy from fifteen years ago. The boy who had pulled me from the rubble of a collapsed building, holding my terrified, orphaned self in his arms, swearing he would protect me forever. Memories were a cruel thing. I let out a soft chuckle, tossing a small, palm-sized pink notebook onto the floor. “Patrick, I don’t need this anymore. You can have it back.” If Patrick had bothered to look, he would have recognized the bucket list we had started fifteen years ago. Back then, he said that once we completed all one hundred wishes, we would never be parted. There were still ten wishes left, but I no longer wanted to complete them with him. “Rebecca, thank you. This is perfect timing.” Patrick picked up the notebook, offering a warm smile as he handed it to Brooke. “This is our couples’ journal. Once we complete all one hundred wishes, we will be together forever.” “Be good now. The dress is yours, and the wedding is yours.” Brooke’s tears instantly turned into a smug smile. She leaned against Patrick’s chest, throwing a triumphant look at me. “Patrick, make her take the dress off.” “She’s just a maid of honor. What right does she have to wear a wedding gown?” Patrick gestured with his hand, and several maids began to close in on me. “Rebecca, take it off.” The makeup artist looked around awkwardly. She tried to speak up for me, but the security guards blocked her, escorting her to another room. The gown was heavy, and I wore nothing but my undergarments beneath it. I looked at the crowded room. “Patrick, are you sure you want me to strip right here?” 4 Patrick’s hand twitched, clearly intending to have the maids take me to a private room. But Brooke’s sharp voice cut in first. “Of course! That is my wedding dress! Every second you wear it makes me sick!” Patrick remained silent, offering his silent consent. The maids swarmed me, aggressively pulling the gown from my body, tearing my hair loose in the process. The guards at the door couldn’t help but look, their eyes lingering on my exposed skin. In the next second, Patrick threw his suit jacket over my shoulders. He pulled me tightly against his chest, shielding me from view, and roared at the door. “Housekeeper! Get those guards out of here! Fire them!” I looked up at his furrowed brow, suddenly finding the entire situation hilarious. He was the one who ordered them to strip my dress. And now he was the one trying to protect my modesty. I pulled away from his embrace, letting the jacket slide. “Patrick, are you done acting? You have a wedding to get to, and so do I.” “Let’s not waste each other’s time.” Patrick froze, then let out a lazy, amused chuckle. “Alright, Rebecca, you don’t have to attend the ceremony.” “I know you don’t want to be the maid of honor. How about this? I’ll bring Brooke’s bouquet back to you tonight as an apology.” He reached out to pat my head. “You have such a temper. Who else but me would put up with you?” The wedding was scheduled to begin in an hour. Patrick was in a rush. Afraid that I would show up and cause a scene, he instructed the housekeeper to lock me in the study before he boarded the wedding car and drove away. Through the glass windows, I watched his car disappear down the driveway. My dress was gone, my ring was gone, and my groom was gone. But this wedding was still going to happen. At the main wedding venue, the bride stood at the entrance, complaining loudly. “Patrick, you promised me a perfect wedding! Now I don’t even have a bouquet! What kind of bride doesn’t have a bouquet?” “There was no choice,” Patrick replied, setting the flowers aside. “Rebecca’s wedding has been postponed. If I didn’t at least leave her the bouquet, she would have completely lost her mind.” Brooke pouted, turning her head away. “Then you have to treat me even better from now on.” Patrick looked at her annoyed expression, reaching over to pinch her cheek with a casual smile. “Of course. I’ll spoil you to the ends of the earth.” The officiant was already calling for them to enter. It was only then that Patrick realized his groomsmen had not yet arrived. The group of men seemed to have vanished into thin air. None of them were answering his texts or calls. But the guests were waiting. Suppressing his irritation, Patrick took Brooke’s hand and began to walk toward the main hall. As they passed one of the smaller banquet halls, a wave of cheers and applause drifted through the double doors, catching his attention. Through the half-open door, he saw a newlywed couple kissing. And standing right there in the middle of the crowd, cheering them on, were his own groomsmen… the very friends who had ghosted him. And on the stage, radiant in a breathtaking wedding gown, stood Rebecca. Patrick’s mind went entirely blank.
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