I MARRIED MY EX'S RIVAL

**Judy's Pov

I froze.  

Not because the hall was cold,but because my body stopped working immediately I stepped into the hall.

“I, Isabella Grey, take you, Clark Knight, to be my lawful wedded husband. In sickness and in health, in poverty and in riches…”  

I didn’t hear the rest.  

I had heard those words before—at my uncle’s wedding. The vows, the promises, the excitement in the hall… I had imagined saying them myself one day. Now, hearing them spoken for someone else… it felt like a knife twisting in my chest,And the only thing I knew was that the man I called my fiance was getting married -----but the bride isn't me.

My ears rang. My chest tightened painfully, as if someone had wrapped their hands around it and squeezed.  

Clark leaned forward.  

And kissed her.  

Not a polite kiss.  

Not a quick one.  

The same lips that kissed me every morning before work.  

The same lips that kissed me every night before bed.  

Now, they belonged to another woman.  

The hall erupted in cheers.  

“Aww!”  

“They look perfect together!”  

“What a beautiful couple!”  

My fingers curled, gripping the edge of my dress, as if that was the only thing holding me upright.  

As they professed their love at the altar, memories hit me like a freight train. I had imagined standing there myself, in a white Vera Wang wedding gown. Elegant. Soft. Flowing lace and silk, hugging my body gently. Veil long, trailing behind me as I walked toward him. Martha De Villa Hotel. Our favorite place. The hotel where he whispered, “This is where I want to marry you someday.”  

All my dreams were stolen. Right in front of me.  

A deep, passionate kiss—like she was the only woman on earth.  

I never imagined that me coming to the hotel was going to cause me a heartbreak I would never recover from.  

---

**A few hours earlier…**  

I was at the hospital, exhausted. My mother’s condition had worsened again. The doctor’s words were sharp, unyielding.  

“Forty-five thousand dollars. That’s the minimum for her surgery. If you want her to live, you need to pay.”  

Forty-five thousand. My hands shook. Where could I even find that kind of money? My fiancé… Clark… he had promised to help. He had smiled the night before, whispered, “Everything will be fine.”  

But he wasn’t replying.  

Six years ago, my father died suddenly. Since then, our relatives had all but forgotten us. The small family restaurant he built closed. We had no one to turn to, and now my mother’s illness made me feel even smaller in the world.  

Sophia had been my backbone through everything. She was my resting place. She had fought for me countless times when I was bullied in school. She was the first to defend me when people whispered, laughed, or spread lies. She had always been there, unwavering, like the sun that never set.  

I kissed my mother’s cold hand. “Mom, I’ll find a way. I promise.”  

Then my phone buzzed.  

It was Sophia.  

“Hey girl, something is happening at Martha De Villa Hotel. You need to go there immediately.”  

My heart skipped a beat. Fear and curiosity clashed inside me.  

I couldn’t leave my mother alone. But… what if something terrible was happening?  

I pressed my lips to my mother’s hand again. “I’ll be back soon. Stay strong, Mom.”  

And I ran.  

---

The drive to Martha De Villa Hotel felt surreal. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white. My chest hurt with every beat. I couldn’t stop thinking about Clark, about all the promises, the plans, the quiet nights we spent talking about the future. I had imagined our wedding so many times—our first dance, the first kiss as husband and wife, the soft words whispered in the middle of the night.  

I remembered Sophia’s words from years ago. She had always been the voice of reason when I let hope cloud my judgment. “Don’t let anyone take away your worth, Judy,” she said, squeezing my hand when I cried over Clark’s moods. She had been there for every heartbreak, every insult, every time I felt small and unwanted. She had been my anchor, my voice of courage, my shield.  

And now I was driving toward a place I had dreamed about for years, knowing that everything could be ripped away from me in one moment. My stomach twisted. I prayed silently that it wasn’t what I feared—but part of me already knew.  

---

Back at the hall.  

I sank onto a chair. My legs gave up. Whispers rose around me.  

“Isn’t that his ex?”  

“How embarrassing.”  

“So pitiful.”  

Some stared at me with pity. Others with disgust, like I was dirt.  

Clark never looked at me. Not once.  

I couldn’t take it. I ran. Past music. Past laughter. Past people. Straight to the hotel bar.  

“Give me anything,” I said, slamming my hand on the counter.  

One glass. Then another. Then another.  

“Five years!” I screamed, grabbing a bottle. “Five years of my life! He promised me!”  

I threw the bottle. It shattered loudly. Cameras flashed. Phones recorded. Laughter followed me like a trail.  

Then strong arms held me.  

“Judy! Stop it!”  

It was Sophia. My best friend. My protector. The only person who had been with me since childhood.  

“Sophia…” I sobbed, collapsing into her arms.  

She glared at the onlookers. “What are you staring at? Haven’t you had enough?”  

She pulled me out. “We’re leaving. Now.”  

Sophia’s presence always calmed me. Even now, her hands around me made the pain manageable, like it was small and contained instead of spreading all over my chest. She had carried me through storms before. She would do it again.  

I remember nothing after that. Only crying. Only shaking. The hum of the car. Her arms around me. Falling asleep in her apartment, drained and broken.  

---

The next morning, my head throbbed.  

Sophia sat on the edge of the bed, her face dark.  

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.  

She hesitated. “Judy…”  

My stomach sank. “What?”  

She turned the screen toward me.  

The headline hit me like a fist:  

**“Woman Publicly Humiliated as Fiancé Marries Rich Ex-Girlfriend.”**  

My photo. Broken, shaking, at the bar.  

I couldn’t breathe.  

“They posted this?” I whispered.  

Sophia’s jaw tightened. “Heartless people.”  

Tears fell again.  

“Stop crying for that bastard,” she said, pulling me into a hug. “He doesn’t deserve you.”  

“Sophia… five years,” I whispered. “I really thought we’d end up together.”  

“I know,” she said softly. “And that’s why it hurts. Clark Knight is a coward. He chose money over loyalty.”  

I looked at Sophia, at the friend who had been stronger than me all my life. She had never let me feel alone, even when the world treated me like I was invisible. She had held me when I was humiliated, whispered words of courage when I felt weak, and fought for me when I couldn’t fight for myself.  

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.  

A message appeared:  

**“We need to talk, Judy. I can help you.”**  

Another followed:  

**“About your mother.”**  

My breath caught.  

Who was this stranger? And how did he know about my mother?  

I looked at Sophia. Her eyes were wide, full of concern. I wanted to tell her, but part of me hesitated. Whoever this was, maybe he could be the answer to my prayers… or maybe another heartbreak waiting to happen.