When Love Strays, No Trace RemainsChapter 1
I returned to Illinois in secret, clutching my wedding dress—a symbol of the promise Jason Grey and I had made three years ago. My heart raced with anticipation as I approached the venue of our long-awaited reunion. Instead of the romantic encounter I’d imagined, I stumbled into a nightmare.
Jason stood there, his hand entwined with another woman’s. It wasn’t just any woman—she was my mirror image. A carbon copy.
They were in the middle of their engagement ceremony.
The moment her tearful eyes met mine, she froze, then broke into sobs. Without another word, she fled the hall, tripping over her own feet as though escaping a ghost.
Jason turned to me, fury etched into his handsome features. “Why does your face have to look like that?” he snapped. “You’re making everyone uncomfortable!”
His words stung like icy daggers. Before I could respond, the man I once trusted dashed after his ‘bride’, leaving me stranded and humiliated.
The crowd was relentless. Fingers pointed, whispers turned into mocking laughter and I became the evening’s entertainment. My so-called friends—familiar faces that once smiled at me—didn’t even attempt to hide their disdain.
“Did you have to come back and ruin everything? Wouldn’t it have been better if you’d stayed dead abroad?”
“All these years, Paula had to carry your face like a curse. The moment you step back in, you stir up chaos like a storm.”
“Apologize and repent, or you’re no longer my friend.”
Disgust filled their eyes, but I didn’t flinch. I let their words fall like raindrops on a shield of indifference. Without another glance, I dialed my mother’s number.
“Mom,” I said, my voice steady and cold, “I’ll accept the marriage proposal from the Moore family.”
The room fell into stunned silence as I walked out, leaving their gossip and judgment behind. These so-called friends weren’t worth the effort.
***
I returned to the house Jason and I had once shared—six years of memories locked behind its door. I hadn’t been back in three years, but stepping inside felt like trespassing in someone else’s life.
The master bedroom was unrecognizable. My belongings were gone, replaced by someone else’s: flowery perfume lingered in the air, a pair of lace underwear and men’s boxers were tossed carelessly on our bed.
The audacity stung.
Right on cue, my phone rang. Jason.