The Wedding That Freed Me
I overslept by six hours on my wedding day.
By the time I got there, my fiancée, Yvonne Burke, had already gone through the entire ceremony with her ex, Tony Cooke.
I stood there, drenched in sweat. Yvonne just smiled and came clean.
"I was the one who drugged you. Tony wanted a wedding ceremony. It's not a big deal, so I gave him one."
Like she was afraid I'd make a scene, she added, "Be good. Next week, I'll get the marriage certification with you. Besides, throwing a fit now won't change anything. Look—even if he takes off the suit, it still won't fit you."
My eyes landed on the groom.
The suit he was wearing was the one I'd spent nearly six months picking out.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for me to lose it.
Instead, I felt a wave of relief.
She should've told me sooner.
I'd already been having second thoughts.
My ex once said that if I ever dared get married, she'd show up in a wedding dress and steal me away.
Looks like everything worked out perfectly.
We both got what we wanted.