Rewriting the Vow

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today…"

The host's clear, steady voice echoed through the grand ballroom, blending with the soft melodic music. Crystal chandeliers shimmered overhead, casting warm light across rows of elegantly dressed guests.

Clusters of people stood around, whispering among themselves, their eyes full of admiration as they looked toward the stage.

Everyone knew how deeply Wyatt Sterling loved me, Anna Larson.

Even though he claimed he could not show his face due to a sudden allergic reaction, he still insisted on going through with the ceremony. He wore a mask just to make sure that this important day would not be ruined.

After all, I was the only daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the South.

"If anyone has any objections, speak now, or—"

"Wait." My voice cut cleanly through the room.

The man standing across from me stiffened.

Even with the mask covering his face, I could feel his panic. His gaze flickered, and a thin sheen of sweat formed at his temples.

Through my veil, I watched his hands tremble slightly.

I could not help but smile.

"Wyatt… your hands are shaking. Is your old problem acting up again?"

He cleared his throat. His voice sounded weak. "Y-Yeah… I just need a moment. I'm not feeling great."

Ignoring the confused looks from the guests, I turned to the host.

"Give us a minute."

Then I reached out, took the groom's hand, and led him off the stage toward a private lounge at the back of the hall.

The moment we stepped inside, my assistant Ruby hurried over and handed me a letter.

"This just arrived," she said quietly. "It's from Mr. Sterling's cousin. Ms. Jones."

I opened it.

[Anna, you already know the groom is fake, right? Surprise. Wyatt and I are on a yacht across the river right now, watching your wedding.]

Attached to the letter was a pendant I had once given Wyatt.

It had been snapped cleanly in half.

Ruby's face flushed with anger.

"That woman said this wedding is just a joke. Mr. Sterling only did all this to amuse her."

I let out an icy laugh.

Taking a pen, I wrote a single line on the paper and handed it back.

"Send this to her."

[Is that so? Do you believe that with just one word from me, he'll come crawling back like a slave?]

Only then did I turn to the man beside me.

He had been silent the whole time, clearly uneasy. "I… I…"

I reached out and gently patted his shoulder. "Joseph. Relax."

He froze for a second, then exhaled like a weight had finally been lifted off him.

"So… you already knew."

After a brief period of silence, he seemed to make up his mind. "Ms. Larson… Wyatt isn't worth marrying. What he did today, humiliating you like this… he's not someone you can entrust your life to."

I stepped closer, close enough to see his eyes behind the mask.

"I didn't stop the wedding to expose you," I said softly. "I just need you to help me finish this performance."

The truth of my previous life was something I only learned after I died.

Joseph Smith had loved me for many years.

After what happened to me, he was the only one who refused to believe it was an accident.

Later, he discovered that the real culprit was Wyatt.

However, without proof, he had no way to bring him down.

In the end, on the anniversary of my death, he chose to take Wyatt down with him.

The memories surged back, tightening in my chest. Before I knew it, tears slid down my face.

He panicked. He lifted his hand, wanting to wipe my tears, but froze midway, unsure if he should touch me.

"If you feel wronged, I can—"

I looked straight at him, my voice calm and firm. "Joseph, listen carefully. The person I want to marry… is you."

When we returned to the wedding hall, the host picked up smoothly, still wearing a polite smile.

"If there are no objections, then let us continue—"

The moment we took our places again, something unexpected happened.

The groom's custom-tailored suit suddenly split along the seams. He instinctively tried to cover it, his expression awkward.

I reached out and stopped him.

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"Wait… wasn't that suit made specifically for Wyatt?"

"How could something like this happen at a wedding?"

"Is this a ceremony or a joke?"

In the front row, Wyatt's parents turned pale. They exchanged a glance, panic written all over their faces.

So they had known all along, but still chose to go along with it.

On the other side, my mother frowned deeply, looking at me with concern.

I gave her a small nod, reassuring her.

Then, as countless confused and shocked gazes looked on, I raised my hand.

I removed the groom's mask.

A handsome but unfamiliar face appeared before everyone’s eyes.

The entire hall fell silent for a split second, and then chaos erupted.

"Oh my God! That's not Wyatt!"

"Who is that?"

"Where's the real groom?!"