Married To The Crippled Billionaire

I never imagined that today would mark the end of my single life. Dressed in an elegant white gown, holding a bouquet of soft pink roses, I should have been feeling ecstatic. Brides dreamed of this moment—walking down the aisle, exchanging vows, stepping into forever with the one they loved. Yet, standing in front of the mirror, I felt disconnected, as if the reflection staring back wasn’t mine. It had all started six months ago when Matthew proposed to me on my twenty-fourth birthday. He had been everything I ever wanted—loving, attentive, kind. He didn’t come from extreme wealth, but I never cared about luxury. All I ever wanted was happiness, a simple married life filled with love and warmth, something that had always seemed just out of reach. A sudden swing of the door startled me out of my thoughts.Maria Sears—no, Maria Comb now—stepped into the room, her presence sucking the air from it. My stepmother, for the last nine years, carried herself like a queen, always adorned with layers of heavy makeup and dressed in elegance that screamed authority. She looked at me with that familiar sharp cynicism in her eyes, scanning me as if assessing my worth. My fingers tightened around the bouquet.

“Layla,” she said coolly. “Wh haven’t you put on your dress yet?

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, her next words struck me like a slap.

“There’s no need. The wedding isn’t for you.”

For a moment, my brain refused to process her words. I blinked, gripping the fabric of my robe. “What are you talking about?”

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk, and I knew she was enjoying this moment. Before she could say anything more, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Leah appeared first, her blonde hair falling in perfect waves over her shoulder. And then, behind her—Matthew. My heart clenched at the sight of him standing in my house instead of waiting at the altar. Something was wrong. His face was pale, his dark eyes filled with something I couldn’t place. Guilt? Fear? The air in the room thickened, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on me. I turned to him, instinctively reaching out, needing reassurance. But he flinched away.

I froze.

“Matthew?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

He looked at Maria, as if seeking her permission to speak. And when he finally did, his voice trembled. “I can’t marry you.”

The words slammed into me like a crashing wave, pulling the air from my lungs. My fingers went numb, the bouquet slipping from my grasp and landing on the floor with a soft thud. I shook my head, trying to make sense of what he had just said.

“What?” I managed to choke out. “You… you’re joking, right?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t even look at me.

And then Leah stepped forward, her lips parting, her voice slicing through the silence with devastating finality. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “And Matthew is the father.”

The room spun. The walls caved in. And my world shattered in an instant.

The silence in the room was deafening. Leah stood tall, her chin slightly raised as if she had won some grand prize. Her arms tightened around Matthew’s waist possessively, as though she had just claimed what had always belonged to her. At twenty-two, she carried the same cold arrogance that had made my life unbearable for years. Growing up, she had wielded insults like daggers, but this—this was far worse than anything she had ever done

.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I looked at Matthew. I wanted—needed—him to deny it, to tell me this was some cruel, elaborate joke. His dark eyes refused to meet mine, his jaw locked tight.

He said nothing.

“Matthew,” I whispered, my voice barely holding together. “Please tell me this isn’t true.”

He stiffened under my gaze. Leah, never one for patience, let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, for God’s sake, Layla. He’s already told you. I’m pregnant. And guess what? He’s the father.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “No… No, he wouldn’t…”

“Say it, Matthew,” Leah taunted. “Tell her the truth.”

His fingers twitched, and for a brief second, I saw hesitation. A tiny flicker of something that almost resembled regret. But then, his spine straightened, and when he spoke, his voice was void of warmth.

“It’s true.”

The words crashed into me like a tidal wave. My knees threatened to give out, and I stumbled backward until the edge of the bed caught me. The air in my lungs turned to lead, heavy and suffocating.

“I have to marry her,” Matthew added, as though that would somehow justify the betrayal.

A hollow laugh escaped me. “You have to? And what about me? What about everything we planned? You proposed to me, Matthew. You promised me forever.”

His eyes flickered, but he stayed silent.

“Guess it wasn’t forever after all,” Leah mocked, tilting her head. “You always were a bit naive, Layla.”

My stomach churned. The betrayal wasn’t just from Matthew. Leah had done this with intent. She had destroyed my life, my love, my future—and she was proud of it.

I turned to Matthew, my voice shaking. “How long?”

A beat of silence.

Three months.

Three. Months.

I felt the ground beneath me shift. Three months ago, Matthew was still telling me he loved me. Still kissing me goodnight. Still planning a future with me. And the entire time, he had been with her.

“You looked me in the eyes,” I whispered. “You held my hand, you kissed me, and you—” My voice broke. “And all along, you were lying.”

Matthew flinched but said nothing.

Leah scoffed. “Oh, come on. You can’t really be surprised. I mean, look at you and look at me. Did you really think he’d pick you?”

A cold fury unfurled inside me. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe through the rage boiling in my veins.

Leah wasn’t even free to be with Matthew—she had a fiancé. I had heard Maria and my father, Dave, discussing her upcoming wedding not long ago. And yet, here she was, destroying my life just because she could.

Maria, standing in the doorway with an expression of utter boredom, finally spoke. “Well, I suppose this saves us the trouble of a divorce later. Consider yourself lucky, Layla.”

Lucky.

I laughed bitterly. “You think I’m lucky?” I wiped at my tears, my heart breaking into pieces. “You’re all unbelievable.”

Leah smirked. “You’re just upset because you lost. But don’t worry, sis. I’ll take good care of him.”

Something inside me snapped.

I wasn’t going to beg. I wasn’t going to cry anymore. I was done.

I slowly stood up, my gaze locking onto Matthew’s. “You want to marry her? Fine.” My voice was quiet, but every syllable was sharp, cutting through the room. “I hope she was worth everything you just threw away.”

Matthew’s face paled, but I didn’t wait for a response.

With steady hands, I reached for the engagement ring on my finger, twisting it off with more strength than I thought I had left. The cold metal pressed against my palm as I stared at it one last time. Then, without hesitation, I placed it on the nightstand.

Turning away from the people who had shattered me, I walked toward the door.

No screams. No begging. No grand declarations.

Just silence.