The Bride Was Not Me

I set the papers down and looked up, studying the girl sitting across from me.

She was very young, pale, and a little too thin.

My prolonged silence had clearly made her nervous.

Anna Greenfield spoke carefully, her voice tentative. "Ms. Shaw, is there something wrong with the information I gave you?"

I leaned back in my chair, my eyes drifting once more to the groom's name printed on the page.

"No. There's nothing wrong," I said. "I just thought the groom's name looked familiar."

Anna lowered her head guiltily and denied it on instinct. "I-I don't think so. You must be mistaken. My boyfriend has never been married."

The moment the words left her mouth, she realized what she had said. Her entire body stiffened.

I lowered my gaze and let out a soft laugh.

One casual sentence was all it took to scare her into exposing herself as a mistress. Victor's taste in women really was terrible.

I pretended not to hear her slip. Tapping the venue photos with my finger, I smoothly steered the conversation back on track.

"Ms. Greenfield, why did you choose this place? As far as I know, this church isn't very popular in the wedding industry."

Seeing that I wasn't pressing the issue, she visibly relaxed. A hint of pride crept into her voice.

"My boyfriend chose it. He said he spent years looking for the perfect place to get married. He's always dreamed of holding his wedding there, with the woman he loves."

She looked up at me, the smug satisfaction in her eyes impossible to miss.

"He told me he'd dated several women before, but he never once thought about bringing them there to get married. Then he met me, and he knew right away. I'm the one he wants to marry there."

I watched her bask in her own fantasy and lowered my eyes, hiding the mockery beneath them.

If I hadn't been certain she didn't recognize me, I might have thought she was deliberately provoking me.

I had agreed to be with Victor because, while I was busy designing perfect weddings for other people, he was the first man who had ever designed one for me.

He had held my hand and patiently described the ceremony that would belong to us.

Sunlight pouring through stained-glass windows. Us standing in a church, dressed in a wedding gown and tuxedo, exchanging vows to grow old together.

He said he wanted to give me the most precious memory of my most beautiful years. And just like that, because of a single promise, I waited five years.

Now he really was getting married.

At a place he had described to me countless times. It was just that the bride was a woman he had known for only two months.

I let out a quiet laugh. "What a touching love story."

If the groom hadn't been my husband, it really would have been a beautiful story.

Maybe my "praise" gave Anna back her confidence. She began showing off her relationship with Victor.

"That night, I was working the night shift at the hospital. I saw him outside the operating room where his wi—" she caught herself, then corrected, "his family member's surgery was taking place. He was gripping the doctor's hand, begging them to make sure everything went well. Seeing how distressed he was, I went over and offered a few words of comfort."

She pressed her lips together in a shy smile.

"He said it was my tenderness in that moment that made him fall in love with me."