The Marriage That Wasn't

My friend used the wedding plans I'd originally created for my own wedding.

Back then, I'd spent six months planning every detail. My wife, Isabel Wilson, had taken one minute to reject it all.

After a simple wedding ceremony, Isabel made me a promise. No matter how much she fooled around with other men, I would always be her only husband.

Until today, when she showed up at this wedding with her male secretary, Bishop Hart.

The moment I walked into the reception, heads turned in every direction.

Some people were waiting for a show. Some were eager for gossip. Others looked at me with pity.

Only Isabel remained perfectly unconcerned. "You're here."

I looked at the young Bishop clinging intimately to her arm and nodded calmly.

We'd been married for seven years. This was hardly the first time Isabel had cheated on me.

The groom, Samuel Ashley, looked awkward. Clearly, he hadn't expected this either. "Robert, you're here. Come on, have a seat. Make yourself comfortable."

I smiled at him, grateful that he'd tried to smooth things over.

Bishop was already sitting in my assigned seat, and with Isabel backing him, there was nothing I could do about it.

She glanced at me and said casually, "Someone's sitting in your seat. Find another one."

After years of giving in without a fight, going along with whatever Isabel wanted had become second nature.

"Okay."

The moment I sat down, I could feel the stares around me growing even more blatant.

Samuel was clearly sorry. Before he left, he even asked his family to look after me. Compared to Isabel, even he cared more about how I felt.

The wedding began as planned. Samuel wore the suit I'd designed and walked down the aisle I'd chosen. He had found the happiness I'd never had.

Everything was exactly as I'd once dreamed it would be.

Bishop, who was clinging to Isabel's arm, was young, with an innocent, lively expression.

"I've heard from Isabel that you're great around the house, Robert. She said you even personally clean the heels she wears. Think you could clean mine too?"

The atmosphere at the table instantly froze. Everyone exchanged uneasy looks, but no one dared say a word.

I set down my fork and instinctively looked at Isabel.

She affectionately ruffled Bishop's hair, then tipped her chin at me and ordered, "What are you waiting for? Go!"

I met the mockery in her eyes and smiled, suddenly at peace. Pushing back my chair, I stood and headed for the exit.

"Hurry up," Isabel added.

I didn't answer, and I never broke stride. I walked out of the reception hall, through the hotel entrance, and all the way to the street. Not once did I look back.

The family driver wasn't around, so I simply kept walking down the road.

When I passed a trash can, I yanked the designer tie from around my neck and tossed it in.

The instant I breathed in the fresh air again, it felt as though the shackles around me had finally disappeared. After seven years of marriage, I finally felt relieved.

I'd barely gotten home when Isabel called.

"How long does it take to get something to clean a pair of shoes? Don't you know Bishop's waiting for you?"

I almost laughed. "I never agreed to clean his shoes. And I'm already home."

Isabel scoffed. "Robert, you've gotten bold, haven't you?"