Flash marriage: falling hard everyday

"Agatha, you whore! How dare you do this?"

I stared in shock at the woman I once thought of as my mother—my stepmother. She was the one who had just thrown explicit images at my face.

Images of me and another man.

A strange man I couldn’t recognize.

And a woman... a woman whose face looked exactly like mine.

What was this? When was this picture taken?

"I—I can’t recognize this man," I whispered.

Today was supposed to be my wedding day. I was getting married to my long-time fiancé... but the man in the pictures—the one claimed to be my lover—he was also standing next to me now, clinging to my hand.

"Agatha, please don’t marry him," the strange man suddenly said. "I’ve loved you for many years. You shouldn’t marry this man. You told me you loved me! Why are you accepting this marriage? Agatha, leave this marriage and come with—"

His words echoed in my ears.

I couldn’t believe it.

I turned, eyes wide, to my fiancé—standing just beside my stepmother.

"Mark, please. Don’t believe him. What he’s saying—it’s not true," I said, lips trembling.

I hoped Mark would understand me. We had grown together, known each other for so long. Surely, a single lie from a stranger wouldn’t sway him.

"Agatha... so you’re that kind of woman," Mark said.

His thunderous voice cut me off.

I froze, my shoulders trembling. I stared at him with sadness and disbelief.

"I never knew you were such a whore. So all this while... you had another lover? And you still tried to marry me?"

"No! Mark, you should believe me—I didn’t cheat on you! Not in any way!"

"You filthy liar! Why should I believe a single word you say?"

"I didn’t cheat on you!" I repeated, almost as if I was trying to convince myself.

I looked around. The hall was crowded—people whispering, watching. Some of the bridesmaids were actually enjoying the drama like it was a reality show.

All of this... it was a setup. A cruel scheme to ruin me.

I understood now.

I glanced around. Reporters—press—had already gathered. They were going to love this headline.

"Agatha, I thought you said he was just a stand-in!" my so-called boyfriend hissed.

"Shut up!" I snapped at him. I had had enough.

The man I was supposed to marry—James—

No. Mark.

Mark spoke again, voice full of venom.

"Agatha, you know what? I don’t want to marry you anymore. You’re disgusting. All this time you were just after my family’s money. What were you planning, huh? Still trying to marry me after sleeping with someone else? Planning to kill me after the wedding and then steal everything with your lover?"

He sneered. "You filthy little gold digger. I always knew it. You slut."

His father stepped forward, rage twisting his face.

"My gut always told me not to let you marry my son!" he roared, raising his hand.

I flinched and barely managed to dodge the slap that came flying at my face.

"Don’t touch me, Mister," I said, voice hard. I glared at them, bitterness twisting my mouth into a scowl.

Mark’s mother—Mrs. Rose—pointed a trembling, accusing finger at me.

"You are such a whore! I never wanted you as my daughter-in-law. You’re a disgrace. Thank God your filthy affair got exposed before my son married you!"

Even my father—who stood beside Mark’s family—raised his hand to strike me.

I ducked again.

How many people were lining up to slap me today?

"You are a disgrace to our family, Agatha!" my father barked. "So you had a secret man all along, huh?"

My heart boiled with pain. This man calling me a disgrace?

I had lived outside his home for years. Ever since my mother died, I’d been alone. And when I finally came back, I found my father remarried with a daughter older than me.

This was proof.

He had been cheating on my mother all along.

"Your precious daughter—maybe she might know about it," I said, bitterness laced in my voice. "Maleficent might know what’s going on. She’s the one who framed me, who brought this actor to pretend as my boyfriend and ruin my marriage with Mark."

Speak of the devil.

Maleficent, who had been standing far from the commotion, walked over to my father and clung to his hand like a sweet little lamb. She looked up at him with those fake innocent eyes and said,

"Father, you should forgive sister. People make mistakes all the time. Maybe... maybe she’s just in love with that man and couldn’t help herself. Maybe you should let her be with him. She shouldn’t marry Mark if her heart’s elsewhere."

My father, that blind fool, always had a soft spot for Maleficent. He looked down at her and smiled.

"You’re such a calm and well-mannered child. Unlike this disgrace of a daughter I have," he said, casting a disgusted glance my way.

Everyone pointed fingers at me now. I was the villain at my own wedding. A cheater. A liar. And yet I knew the truth—this was all a setup.

Mark looked like he was falling for everything, but a part of me still wanted to believe in him. We’d known each other for so long. He had to believe me.

"Mark," I said, stepping closer to him. "I want you to look into my eyes and tell me—do you believe me?"

"Believe you?" Mark scoffed. "How can I believe nothing’s going on between the two of you? All the evidence is right in front of me."

I cleared my throat, trying to fight the tears. His words stabbed deep.

Then, my father turned to Mark’s father and said,

"Since Agatha has brought disgrace upon this engagement, let Maleficent substitute her. She's the better girl anyway. Not as filthy as Agatha. I promise she’ll make a better wife."

Wow.

So this was the plan all along?

Mark’s mother agreed instantly.

"That’s good. I’ve always wanted a daughter-in-law like Maleficent. Not like Agatha—this girl always seemed like a bad egg to me. Maleficent is sweet and lovely. She should be the one to marry my son."

I stared at Mark, but he said nothing. He made no effort to stop this madness. No opposition. Nothing.

"Is that it?" I asked him, my voice cool now, steady. "Okay. Since you’ve all decided… Mark, I want you to remember—this engagement isn’t being broken by you. I, Agatha Clinton Damien, am the one breaking it. I reject you."

Mark just looked at me and smirked.

"It means nothing to me that you’re breaking it. Go be with your lover. You don’t deserve me. You’re just a filthy whore."

I chuckled. Those words? They didn’t hurt anymore.

Everyone turned to Maleficent now, grinning at her like she was a damn Disney princess. Mark stepped forward, looked her in the eyes, and asked,

"Maleficent, will you be my bride?"

She giggled. "Yes."

I just stood there like a statue, watching my wedding become a circus. My own day—hijacked. And everyone was smiling… everyone except me.

Maleficent walked up to me and leaned in, her breath cold against my ear.

"Now I’m the one marrying Mark. And your mother’s inheritance? It’s going to be mine."

I clenched my jaw. Her words dug into me like nails.

So that was it. It was all about my mother’s inheritance. And somehow, the will said I could only claim it if I married Mark.

Everyone seemed happy.

But no. I wasn’t going to let them have the last laugh.

They were all laughing now—so I needed to smile too.

A thought flashed in my mind. My eyes darted through the crowd… until they landed on him.

A man—young but mature, not some boy in his twenties. I’d heard about him before. I didn’t know what came over me, but my feet moved on their own.

As I walked to him, the room fell silent. All eyes were on me. I reached him, knelt down, took his hand, and asked:

"Will you marry me?"