WHEN I FIRST RECEIVED THE MESSAGE, I ASSUMED IT WAS MERELY A PRANK. HOWEVER, WHEN I ATTEMPTED TO CALL MY FIANCÉ, HIS PHONE WAS UNREACHABLE! THE ROOM WAS FULL, WITH EVERYONE EAGERLY WAITING FOR THE CEREMONY TO BEGIN… AND MY FIANCÉ WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.
Then, unexpectedly, the doors burst open, and there he was—Ian—running in and apologizing, saying, “I’m SO SORRY! It was a terrible mistake!”
“I’ve already made my vows,” I responded calmly.
Ian’s expression turned to one of confusion. “What do you mean? To who?!”Everyone in the room gasped. My mother clutched her pearls. The pastor looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. I could feel the weight of a hundred eyes pressing on me, but somehow, I stayed calm.
I took a deep breath. “To myself, Ian,” I said, my voice steady. “I promised myself that I’d never allow someone to make me feel this insignificant again.”
Ian stepped forward, looking desperate. His tuxedo was wrinkled, his tie half undone. “Please, you have to let me explain. My phone died, and then—then—someone sent you that message. I don’t even know who would do that!”
I clenched my fists at my sides. My cousin Mira tried to pull me aside, but I held my ground. “You expect me to believe that? On our wedding day?”
Ian’s eyes darted nervously around the room. “It was anonymous! Someone sent you that text just to ruin this!”
I bit my lip. The message was simple: “Don’t marry him. He’s not who you think.”
No name. No explanation. But it hit me like a freight train.