Theron Carter and I had been together for six years.
But just three days before our wedding, he publicly declared his reunion with his first love.
Without a second thought, I calmly turned around and found a college guy to take his place to marry me.
Right there and then, I stood calm and composed, watching as he carried on like nothing was amiss.
On our wedding day, I boldly moved and swapped out the groom, leaving Theron stunned and speechless.
…
By the time my phone buzzed, the clock had already struck ten. It was the wedding planner again, nudging me to finalize the dress selection.
I opened the chat and noticed the message I had sent Theron that morning asking for his opinions, which were still unanswered.
When I tried calling him, the line was dead, and his phone was completely off.
Later, I found out he’d been wrapped up in the bachelor party his friends threw for him, so I brushed it off without a second thought.
As I casually scrolled through my feed, I spotted a new post from him, made only ten minutes earlier.
In the post, there she was, Lyra Adamson, his first love, with her elegance and allure even more captivating than they were six years ago.
They had drawn half a heart on each of their cheeks with lipstick, and together, their faces completed a perfect heart, a picture-perfect romance straight out of a fairy tale. The caption read, [We are still us.]
That was Theron’s first public post in six years. At that moment, my heart raced, and time seemed to stand still.
Suddenly, it all unveiled the truth; no wonder my messages pleading for answers had been left in the dark.
Through thick and thin, Theron and I endured all our challenges back then. We shared countless tender moments, yet he never posted a photo of us or let our relationship shine in the public eye.
No matter how much I cried my heart out and pleaded, he would brush it off with, “Come on, love, we see each other every day. There’s no need for all that.”
Only now did it hit me: it wasn’t about the need. To him, I had always been nothing more than a shadow, unimportant and easily overlooked.
For six years, I’d wrapped myself in excuses for his coldness, holding on to my stubborn faith. Now, it all seemed like a cruel joke.
When Theron’s friends caught wind of our wedding, I overheard one exclaim, “You’re going to marry? Is this part of your scheme? You’ve pulled out all the stops this time!”
Back then, I had been blind to Theron's sidelong glances, confidently proclaiming, “Of course! We have been in love for six long years!”
Those words felt like nothing more than a regretful whisper when the truth lay bare before me.
Maybe I wouldn't have fallen apart if it had been just a social media post. But a week ago, I stumbled upon tens of thousands of encrypted photos in his cloud storage.
Each shot was a snapshot of Lyra’s ever-changing smile from high school to college.
My furiousness erupted like wildfire when his sea of deception was laid bare, sparking our first real argument.
He shrugged it off, insisting he had forgotten to delete the photos. But I knew it was just another lame excuse, a last-ditch effort to make me swallow his line of nonsense.
Then he turned the tables, accusing me of invading his privacy. There wasn’t a trace of remorse in his voice, nor did he offer comfort for my wounded heart.
We had been giving each other the cold shoulder for a whole week.
Out of the blue, he had proposed to me, and I took it as a sign that he was finally backing down.
I steered clear of mentioning the photos again, immediately saying yes, fearing any hesitation might make him reconsider. Eager to seize the moment, I immediately contacted the wedding planners.
The whirlwind wedding, rushed into place in three days, felt like a mad dash, but I couldn’t have been happier.
Until his social media post jolted me back to reality, I rubbed my sore eyes, fingers trembling as I hovered over the send button for a breakup message.
I typed "breakup" into the text box, but just as I was about to hit send, one of Theron's friends called me.
“Hey Avery! Theron had too much to drink and could barely stand. Can you come pick him up? I’ll text you the address,” his friend urged, sounding frantic.
Theron’s slurred voice came through the line as I listened, calling for “Lyra.” My heart clenched with a sharp, painful ache, and I struggled to comprehend the depth of my sorrow.
In a heartbeat, his friend ended the call and hung up. I took a deep breath, massaged my aching temples, and hurriedly threw on some clothes to head out.
But just as I was about to leave, my eye caught a glimpse of something Theron had carelessly discarded by the door.
It was the handmade fabric photo album I’d poured my heart into for our sixth anniversary, meticulously crafted over a month.
Yet, he had dismissed it as meaningless and carelessly tossed it aside, barely glancing at it.
I sighed, ready to shove the album into the cupboard. But as I swung open the door, a cascade of unopened boxes spilled out. They were all the carefully chosen couple’s keepsakes I’d picked out for us, each still wrapped in its original packaging, untouched and forgotten.
I was brimming with frustration as I snatched the trash bin and threw all the couple’s keepsakes into it.
After tossing out the garbage, I hailed a taxi and sped off to the address his friend had sent, feeling like I was racing against time.
As I drew closer to the private room, the laughter from inside wafted through the door like an unwelcome breeze, teasing me with the celebration I was about to crash.
"Theron lost again! Truth or dare? You didn’t throw the game just to cozy up to Lyra, did you?" his friend teased, laughing.
I took a steadying breath, forced a smile to my lips, and gently pushed the door open.
The room fell silent; their laughter was cut short as every head turned toward me, panic flashing across their faces.
At the center of it all sat Theron, the man I was supposed to marry in just three days, leaning far too close to Lyra.
They leaned in, the playing card pinned between their lips, so close their lips hovered inches apart, as if a whisper could close the gap.
Chapter 2Theron’s friends flinched at my sudden appearance, clearly caught off guard.
One of his friends reached out to pull him away, but Theron, clearly intoxicated, scowled in annoyance at the interruption. The playing card still dangled from his lips as he slurred, "Get lost! Don’t touch me!"
I knew better than anyone that he was just playing the part, far from the intoxicated fool he tried to appear.
One of his friends leaned in. “Avery’s here to pick you up. Snap out of it! You’re on the verge of getting married…” he whispered, his breath hot against Theron’s ear.
While the others scrambled to lend a hand, Lyra eventually pulled away, leaving the card still clenched between Theron’s lips.
In an instant, he slumped onto the sofa, his face flushed and eyes unfocused, as if the weight of the world had come crashing down.
His friend smiled sheepishly and said, “Don’t overthink it. Theron just lost a round of truth or dare. And the photo he posted? That was part of the game, too. There's nothing for you to get worried about.”
In the past, I might have erupted on the spot, demanding to know why, with our wedding just around the corner, they’d invited Lyra and allowed such intimate photos.
But at that moment, I stood still, a tight smile on my lips, choosing silence over confrontation.
As Lyra watched from the sidelines, her eyes twinkling with mischief, I reached out to guide Theron home. But then again, he pushed me aside, annoyed with me lending a hand.
Some of his friends buzzed with attempts to defuse the tension, suggesting, "Looks like Theron’s still in the mood for more fun. How about another round? Avery, you should join in too.”
It was soon uncovered that the next was to spill the beans of the pinned conversation from each of our social apps.
Though I was wary of joining the game, I took my place and watched as the bottle whirled. It spun and swayed, finally coming to a stop right in front of Theron once more.
From across the room, someone couldn't resist teasing, “Theron’s lost again! Let’s see your phone!”
Another voice said with a sigh, “With Theron about to get married, his pinned conversation is bound to be with his fiancée. What’s the thrill here? This round’s a flop!”
Theron, having been caught in the act, stayed silent. With a nervous demeanor, he handed the phone to Lyra, hoping for her nod of approval.
With a casual flick, Lyra unlocked the phone, letting everyone see it.
The screen quickly revealed Theron’s social app, displaying only one pinned conversation, Lyra’s profile picture.
Amidst a flood of messages from public accounts and work groups, our chat window was hidden at the bottom.
Beside my full name was a “Do Not Disturb” icon and a small red dot next to my avatar, indicating that my messages had gone unread.
Under the soft lighting, Lyra’s gaze lingered on me, and my embarrassment was laid bare for all to see.
Beneath my sleeve, my hand tightened into a fist, nails digging into my palm as I struggled to control the trembling.
The room grew tense as everyone’s faces turned uneasy, all eyes locked on me.
Breaking the silence, Lyra quipped, “Wow, it’s been six years, and Theron still hasn’t bothered to unpin me. Some guys are just so forgetful, I swear!”
At that moment, Theron, who had stayed tight-lipped, broke his silence, his voice rough with frustration. “You were the one who asked me to pin you back then. You said I could never unpin you for the rest of my life. Don’t you remember?”
His voice was surprisingly clear, showing no trace of drunkenness.
As Lyra playfully stuck out her tongue, it was as if she were teasingly admitting to a lighthearted mistake.
At that moment, a sudden realization struck me. It cut deep, leaving my heart raw and aching.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t compromise; he simply chose not to be with me. Each request he had shrugged off over the years now painfully brought to light that he never truly loved me.
I could no longer fool myself. With a cold demeanor, I extended a hand for him to rise from the sofa.
“You’ve had too much to drink. Let’s head home,” I said, gently guiding him.
Lyra rose with a smile and said, “Yes, it’s getting late. I should be heading out too; it’s tough to catch a taxi in the suburbs.”
Theron, who had just begun to move, halted at her words. He shrugged off my hand and turned to her.
“I’ll give you a ride. I can’t just let you wander off on your own,” he said, his voice laced with genuine concern.
“But I’m on my own, too,” I pointed out.
As Theron heard this, his face clouded over, and the tension in his expression sharpened.
“Lyra just got back from overseas; she’s not familiar with this part of town,” he uttered, calm and composed.
My hand, frozen in mid-air, slowly fell as I silently watched them drift away. His friends trickled out one by one, leaving me alone inside the room.
Chapter 3As I was left alone, I seized an unopened bottle of alcohol from the table and slipped to a dim, secluded corner of the bar.
Recalling how Theron had once mocked girls who drank, I took a defiant sip from the bottle, daring him to pass judgment. Not long after, the liquor's warmth spread through me, and my vision grew hazy.
Right afterward, a youthful, boyish face came into view.
His attractive allure left me feeling hazy. He waved his friends away, watched them depart, and sat beside me.
Despite my intoxication, I thought he was just one of the bar’s charming models trying to catch my eye.
With a stranger, I no longer felt the need to hold back.
Overcome with emotion, I began to cry my heart out.
Taken aback, he hurriedly reached out to brush away my tears.
“You’ve had too much to drink,” he said gently.
I shoved his hand away and collapsed into his arms, insisting stubbornly, “I’m not drunk! I’m perfectly sober! I know you’re a model, so how much to come with me? Will ten thousand do it?”
In my haze, I writhed against him, beating his chest with frustrated, unsteady fists. Above me, I could hear him gulping with unease.
With a fleeing hesitation, in the end, he scooped me up and carried me out.
The next morning arrived, and I woke up from my deep slumber only to find myself in his arms in an intimate embrace.
Before I could process anything, a familiar face came into view.
Spencer Smith, the new permanent hire at our company, graduated from a prestigious university.
Seeing his face surprised me, and my heart skipped a beat. Cold sweat instantly coated my forehead.
Seizing the chance while he was still asleep, I immediately dressed and slipped out of the hotel room.
Unbeknownst to me, Spencer smirked in bed as the door clicked shut.
Minutes later, I arrived home, and Theron was nowhere to be found.
I checked my phone and saw our chat window still empty, a mocking smile playing at the corners of my lips.
After freshening up, I heard the door click shut and turned to find Theron standing there, casually explaining, “Lyra had too much to drink last night. She caught a bit of a chill after getting some fresh air, so I stayed behind to look after her. Nothing happened between us, so don’t think too much about it.”
As usual, Theron tossed his jacket onto the sofa and placed his phone on the coffee table to charge before heading into the bedroom.
When I finished my makeup and stepped out, I noticed a used hygiene product poking out of his pocket. A wave of nausea quickly rose in my throat.
Today was supposed to be our wedding photo day. I walked to the bedroom door with a cold demeanor and asked, “Are we still going ahead with the photos today?”
His irritated voice immediately cut in, “I didn’t sleep well last night. How can I have the energy for this? Why the rush? Can’t you wait a few days?”
In the past, I might have launched into a heated argument, desperately questioning his feelings for me.
Without a word, I nodded and moved to the sofa. As I was about to cancel the photoshoot, my eyes landed on his phone.
Driven by an impulse, I entered the password I recalled last night and unlocked the screen.
The first thing that grabbed my attention was his chat with his friends.
[I’m down to my last move. Like using a fake marriage to finally get Avery to walk away. I can't bear another day with her.]
[But hey, Lyra’s back; this plan should do the trick! It’s all on you tonight. If it goes well, drinks are on me. Just make sure Avery gets the call and shows up. Lyra needs to believe this is real.]
My fingers froze on the screen, and my breath came in shallow gasps.
No matter how hard I tried to draw in the air, it felt like my lungs were empty.
Tears began to spill uncontrollably down my cheeks.
I muffled my gasp, making sure no sound escaped.
In a calm tone, I saved Lyra’s account and added her as a friend.
Like a hidden observer, I watched their story unfold. Just then, a new message popped up on my phone.
[Hey, about last night, aren’t you going to do something about it?]
Chapter 4Spencer’s name flashed onto the screen, and memories of last night flooded.
With only a moment’s hesitation, I shot off a response, [Responsibility? Hmm, how about marriage?]
I had dismissed last night as a fleeting lapse, but Spencer’s unexpected arrival was a pleasant surprise.
His presence brought an unforeseen relief, and his infectious energy effortlessly brightened my mood.
Five hours later, the wedding photo shoot wrapped up, and I still felt disoriented.
I graciously turned down his offer to drive me home.
After a shared meal, I caught a taxi on my own.
The moment I stepped through the door, the aroma of food greeted me, making me stop in my tracks.
That’s when I noticed Theron in the kitchen, wearing an apron and setting dishes on the dining table.
If I remember correctly, it was the first time he’d cooked a meal in six years. His face flushed with a hint of awkwardness as soon as he saw me.
“The thing in my pocket... don’t think too much about it, alright? My friend just pushed it on me; it’s nothing—” Theron said, looking uncomfortable.
“Oh, that?” I replied, brushing it off. “It’s no big deal. I didn’t think twice about it. We’re adults; it’s all part of life.”
He seemed to expect anger or a confrontation, but my calm reaction caught him off guard. His unease grew, and his brow furrowed deeply.
“I’m trying to explain—” he began, his voice tight.
I set my bag on the shelf and gave a curt nod. “I understand, and I’m on the same page.”
“I’ve already eaten out, so I won’t be joining you. Enjoy your meal.”
With that, I turned on my heel and headed for the bedroom.
Maybe he sensed that skipping the wedding photos had crossed a line, so he extended an apology.
“I was unwell today and exhausted when I got home this morning,” he said.
Lost in the wedding photos Spencer had sent, I nodded absentmindedly.
Despite all our time together, I had turned him down during the rare moments he’d shown humility.
Theron’s face grew dark with frustration. "I’ve already explained. Believe it or not!"
With that, he slammed the door and stormed out, not returning.
While he sat in the living room, absorbed in replying to Lyra’s messages, I lay in bed, scrolling through wedding photos with Spencer.
A door had firmly closed between us. Later that night, Theron hurriedly left, the space between us growing ever wider.
By the time the morning arrived for us to collect our marriage certificate, he was still nowhere to be found.
No explanation, no message.
I checked Lyra’s social media and found a post from her late at night, showing her hooked up to an IV in the hospital.
[How did I catch the flu as soon as I got back? Luckily, you were there for me.]
I tried calling Theron, but his phone was off. He had, indeed, blocked me.
Once Lyra was back, Theron stopped bothering with excuses for me. I breathed deeply and texted Spencer, [How about picking up our marriage certificate? We’re just one short.]
He replied instantly, [On my way!]
An hour later, I held the marriage certificate, torn between hesitation and uncertainty.
Out of the blue, a message from the elusive Theron popped up. [Something came up at work. Let’s postpone getting the certificate for a few days.]
He quickly added, [Don’t read too much into it—just work.]
He was fumbling through his excuses, hoping I wouldn’t notice. Wedding photos could wait, the marriage certificate could be postponed, and so on. I had been patient for six years; now, I was through waiting.
In sharp contrast, Spencer’s excitement was infectious. He was on cloud nine as he exclaimed, “Avery, my dear wife, may I finally have the honor of dining with you today?”
As I turned off my phone and looked into his eager eyes, I hesitated for a moment, but ultimately, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
It wasn’t until we reached the restaurant that the contrast between love and indifference hit me like a ton of bricks.
Even if Spencer’s feelings for me were still in the crush phase, he went the extra mile. He inquired about my food preferences, jotted them down, and made sure to steer clear of them when he ordered.
He placed the first bite on my plate with each dish using the serving spoon. Then he gazed at me with those wide, puppy-dog eyes, hanging on my every word, before breaking into a grin that said he’d just hit the jackpot.
It felt as if I had returned to my student days for a brief moment. His genuine and simple affection tugged at my heartstrings, stirring a deep, nostalgic ache.
When I got home, I packed my belongings and arranged for a moving company to take them to Spencer’s place.
Alone in the empty living room, I watched the clock slowly tick toward midnight. With just three hours left before the wedding, Theron was still nowhere to be seen.
I let out a bitter laugh, stretched out my stiff body, and changed into fresh clothes to start getting ready. Next, I contacted the wedding company to replace the groom. Thankfully, the quick and straightforward setup made the change seamless.
When I called Spencer, he answered before the first ring finished. Without a second thought, he agreed to my invitation.
We stood before the officiant three hours later, dressed in our wedding best.
Love and joy danced in his eyes, reflecting a long-awaited dream finally coming to life.
But just as the officiant asked us to exchange vows, the door burst open. Theron barged in, breathless and furious, his voice trembling with rage.
"Avery! What is the meaning of this?! How dare you betray me?!"