My Stolen Wedding
On the eve of my wedding, my wife, Sharon Moonstone, drugged me and knocked me unconscious.
She let her first love, Aaron Miller, take my place as the groom, standing beside her as they held the wedding that was supposed to belong to both of us.
By the time I finally found them, they had already gone into the bridal suite and consummated their marriage.
When I demanded answers, Sharon did not show a trace of guilt. "You live off me. You'd better behave. Make a scene, and we'll divorce."
My heart went cold. I handed her the divorce papers, but she barely looked at them.
"Looks like you've improved," she said lightly. "At least you know a performance should be convincing from start to finish."