I think Im about to marry a successful businessman, only for his real wife and three children to walk into the ceremony.
Girl, youve completely lost it! This is a limitededition gownyou cant just have it taken apart! declares the designer, flinging his arms dramatically. Its like asking Leonardo daVinci to add a moustache to the MonaLisa!
Im paying £400 for this dress and I want it to fit perfectly, Emily says calmly, though her stomach twists. You can see the excess fabric hereI’ve lost weight in the last month.
At the last fitting you weighed the same! the designer snaps. Brides can slim down or put on a few pounds, but not that fast. This dress was cut to your exact measurements.
James Hawthorne, Emily sighs, the wedding is in three days. I dont have time for arguments. Please make the changes Im asking for.
The designer narrows his eyes, then nods. The dress does indeed sit a little loose. Emily has shed five kilos during the frantic month of wedding planningnot from diets but from endless errands and nerves. Invitations, the restaurant, the photographer, the floristall fall on her shoulders. James is too busy running his construction empire to bother with the details.
Alright, Thomas Whitaker, the designer, concedes, pinning the dress with his needles. Well make it a queen. But dont lose any more weight, or I wont be responsible for the result.
Emily smiles at her reflection. The white dress with a lace bodice and a full skirt looks like a fairytale. She turns, admiring the silhouette. In three days she will be Mrs. James Hawthorne, owner of a major building firm and, by every account, the most charming man she has ever met.
Her phone buzzes. A text from James: Stuck in a meeting. See you tonight. Kiss.
Emily swallows a sighthird time this week. Business demands his attention. After the wedding theyll have more time together.
That evening, while waiting for James at home, she flips through photos for the wedding album: their first seaside holiday, skiing in the Lake District, the restaurant where he proposed. Ten months isnt a long courtship, but when you know hes the one, why wait?
The front door opensJames returns, tired but smiling, tossing his jacket onto the armchair and pulling Emily into a kiss.
Im sorry Im late. Investors from Birmingham need my attention.
No problem, Emily laughs. Are you hungry? Ill heat up dinner.
I grabbed a bite at the office, James says, rubbing his eyes. Tell me how the fitting went.
Emily describes the temperamental designer; James nods absentmindedly, glancing at his phone now in his hand.
Youre not listening, she says.
Sorry, urgent call, he types a quick reply. What did you say?
It doesnt matter, Emily stands. Im going to shower. Its been a long day.
The water washes away fatigue but not the unease. Lately James feels distantmaybe wedding nerves, maybe work pressure? She steps out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and hears James whispering on the phone in the bedroom.
Yes, everythings fine. No, dont worry, Ive got it under control Yes, of course Ill be home soon.
Emily freezes in the hallway. Who is he talking to so affectionately? She tiptoes to the door.
Ill be home soon, James says, ending the call.
Home? Hes already here. A knot tightens in Emilys chest. She opens the door.
Who were you talking to?
James startles, then turns:
Victor, my deputy. We were discussing tomorrows meeting.
You said youd be home soon.
What? he frowns, then chuckles. Ah, I meant Ill be back at the office soon. I misspoke. Im exhausted, Em.
She tries to argue, but he pulls her close. A hint of expensive cologneand a faint trace of a feminine perfumeclings to him. She dismisses it as his secretarys scent.
Three days, and youll be Emily Hawthorne, he whispers. Sounds lovely, doesnt it?
She nods, pressing against his chest, doubting herself through the wedding jitters. What could possibly go wrong?
The next day Emily visits her friend Kate to pick up the beaded shoes shes been customizing.
You look worried, Kate observes over tea. Prewedding nerves?
I dont know, Emily twirls the mug. Yesterday James sounded odd on the phone. He said hed be home soon, even though he was already here.
Maybe he misspoke.
And he smelled like womens perfume.
Emily, youre being paranoid, Kate waves her hand. He runs a company with half the staff being women. Its bound to happen.
Emily forces a smile, but the anxiety lingers.
Are you both ready for married life? You havent even lived together.
Weve spent weekends together, gone on holidays. Thats enough to know each other.
And the parents? Emily asks.
My parents live in the north, theyre elderly and cant travel, but theyll come for the wedding.
Its odd we never visited them in ten months.
James is swamped. You know his business.
Construction, office in the city centre, trips abroad Kate lists. Why arent any of his partners coming to the wedding?
Theyll be. Victor will, and a few others.
What about friends?
He doesnt like big, noisy parties.
Kate eyes Emily skepticallyshes never trusted James fully. But not every man is an open book.
That night Emily decides to talk. In the kitchen James scrolls on his tablet while she stirs a sauce.
James, I need to ask are we really ready for marriage?
He looks up, surprised.
What do you mean?
We barely know each other. Ive never been to your home, never met your parents, I hardly know your friends.
Weve talked about this a hundred times, James says, setting the tablet aside. Ive been staying at your flat because my house is being renovated. Youll meet my parents at the wedding. As for friends Im not very social. Im a workaholic, you know that.
Right but
No buts, he pulls her into a hug from behind. In two days youll be my wife. Well move into the new house I bought for us. Itll be perfect, I promise.
Emily nods. Shes never seen the house; James says its a surprise after the ceremony. The gesture feels romantic yet unsettling.
Did you pick up the rings from the jeweller? she asks.
James freezes.
Not yet. Ill go tomorrow.
Maybe Ill go myself; I need them in that area.
No! Thats my job. Ill take care of everything.
That night Emily cant sleep. James breathes beside her, but she stares at the ceiling, wrestling with her feelings. She loves him, trusts him, yet a part of her screams danger.
In the morning James leaves early, saying he must settle work matters before the wedding. Emily is alone and decides to act. She finds Victors contact in her phone and dials.
Hello? a male voice answers.
This is Emily, James Hawthornes fiancée. I need details about tomorrows event.
What event? Victor asks, confused.
Our wedding. Emily feels a chill. Youre invited, right?
A long pause.
I dont know any James Hawthorne, Victor finally says. You must have the wrong number.
But youre his deputy at the construction firm
Im an accountant at a travel agency, never worked in construction.
Emily drops onto a chair, stunned. She thanks Victor and hangs up, staring at the empty wall. Who was the man she was about to marry?
She opens her laptop, types the company name James claimed to own, and searches. Several firms with similar names appear, none list a director called James Hawthorne. She checks social media, looks for news about major building projectsnothing.
She pulls a box from the wardrobe containing photos and documents James left. Inside are his passport, drivers licence, and a business card. She examines the licencegenuine? She dials the number on the card; the voicemail says the number doesnt exist.
The front door opensJames is back. She hurriedly stuffs everything into the box.
What are you doing? he asks, kissing her cheek.
Looking at our photos, Emily lies. Tomorrows a big day.
Exactly. I grabbed the rings. Want to see?
He produces a velvet pouch; two gold bands glint.
Beautiful, Emily whispers, a lump forming in her throat.
Try them on? he offers, pulling out the smaller one.
No, she steps back. Bad omen. Youll wear them tomorrow.
He laughs.
My superstition, huh? Fine, itll be a surprise.
He smells of expensive cologne mixed with a faint hint of perfume. She convinces herself its his secretarys scent.
Im staying at Kates tonighttradition, right? The groom doesnt see the bride before the ceremony.
Of course, James agrees. Ill be at a friends place. See you tomorrow, love.
He kisses her long, tenderly, as if it were the last time. A tear rolls down her cheek.
At Kates, Emily spills everything: the call to Victor, the deadend search, the odd smells, the mismatched stories.
Im scared he isnt who he says he is, Emily says, wiping her eyes.
Lets doublecheck his full name, Kate suggests.
James Ivor Hawthorne.
Whats his birthdate?
15May1979.
Kate types furiously, brows furrowing.
Nothing. No records, no news. Usually a successful businessman shows up somewhere.
Maybe hes private?
Or a fraud. That fake Victor Emily, youre being duped. Why?
Money? Emily guesses. But I have none. Im a teacher.
A flat, no car.
Maybe he plans to vanish after the wedding, steal gifts, cash out?
Exactly what I read about conartists.
Emily spends a sleepless night mulling over it. By morning a calm decision settles: she will attend the ceremony, look the man in the eye, and ask why.
The wedding is set for a small countryhouse restaurant outside town. Emily arrives an hour early to change and prep. Guestsher parents, friends, coworkersare already gathered. Jamess side is still empty.
In the bridal suite, friends help with the dress and hair. The gown fits perfectly, yet Emily feels like shes wearing someone elses skin.
A friend peeks in. James is herelook how dashing in his suit!
Emilys heart quickens. The truth will surface now.
Fifteen minutes until the ceremony. Emily watches the last cars pull up. A silver minivan stops, and a welldressed woman steps out with three children. She looks anxious, whispers to the kids, and they follow her inside.
Emilys skin goes cold. Something tells her this isnt coincidence. She slips out of the suite and heads to the main hall, where guests are chatting. She spots James standing by the register, then the door swings open and the woman enters.
Silence falls. James turns slowly; his face turns ashen.
Penny? the woman says, voice trembling. Whats happening?
Emily moves closer, still unsure. Is James or Paul?
Penny, what are you doing here? Jamesno, Paulasks.
What am I doing? Your mother called me, said you were getting married! Paul, we have three kids!
The crowd murmurs. Emily feels the floor give way. She grabs the nearest chair.
James, she calls, voice shaking. Who is this woman?
Its not James, the woman protests. Im Paula Dmitriyevna Kline. Hes my husband, the father of my children. I work as a carsales manager.
Emily looks at the childrena tenyearold boy, a nineyearold, and a fouryearold girlwho stare at the man they think is their dad, confused.
Dad? the oldest asks. Why are you in a suit? Is there a wedding?
Quiet, Kirill, Paula scolds gently. Dad will explain later.
Paul finally finds words.
Kids, wait outside. Ill sort this out.
No, Im not leaving until I know whats happening, Paula says, crossing her arms.
Emily steps forward, eyes locked on the man she thought she loved.
Who are you, really? she asks softly.
He hangs his head.
Paul Kline.
And youre married? Emily asks.
Yes.
And these are your children?
He nods.
Emily feels something snap inside. All the months of love, promises, future plansgone.
Why? she whispers. Why lie?
Paul stays silent. Paula steps closer, gripping his arm.
This has been going on for two years, hasnt it? Your trips, the delays, the secret calls she fumes. Ive put up with it, believed every word, and you?
Emily interjects, Why pretend to be a businessman? Why fake the parents, the proposal, the wedding?
The hall is so quiet you could hear a fly buzz. All the guests stare, frozen.
I I didnt plan this, Paul finally says, voice cracking. It just got out of hand.
Out of hand? Emily repeats. You dated me for ten months, proposed, organized a wedding, and now this?
I met you by chance, Paul begins. You were beautiful, smart. I wanted to impress you, so I said I owned a company. Then I couldnt stop.
Why marry? Paula asks.
I thought I could disappear after the ceremony, take the gifts, the money, and vanish, Katewho has been standing nearbysays. Is that right, Paul?
No! I could never do that to Emily, he protests.
But you did, Kate replies. Youve been leading two lives.
Emily looks at Paul, then at Paula and the kids.
You knew I didnt know you were married? she asks.
Yes, he admits.
Emily feels a mix of anger and relief.
You have to leave, she says quietly.
Emily, please, I can explain
No explanations, she replies. Just go.
Paul hesitates, then turns and walks toward the exit, the crowd parting for him.
Emily stands in the white wedding dress, surrounded by silent guests. Kate comes over, hugging her.
Lets get out of here, Kate suggests.
No, Emily says, surprising herself. Weve already paid for the banquet, the guests are here. Lets just celebrate.
What are we celebrating? Kate asks.
My freedom, Emily says with a weak smile. Imagine if shed shown up after the ceremony, or a year later, or when we already have kids.
She looks around at the guests.
Sorry for this spectacle. There wont be a wedding, but the banquet is paid, the music booked. Lets have a good time.
Emily pours herself a glass of champagne and drinks it in one go. Within an hour the room fills with dancing, laughter, stories. The sting of betrayal still burns, but something tells her shell survive.
Late that night, when the guests have left, Emily sits on the steps of the restaurant, still in her dress. Kate sits beside her, offering a glass of water.
How are you? Kate asks.
I dont know, Emily admits. I feel empty, cheated, but oddly grateful the truth came out now, not later.
Youre amazing, Kate says. I dont know if I could have held on like you did.
Me neither, Emily says, looking at the darkening sky. Were stronger than we think.
They sit in silence a moment, then Kate asks, Whats next for you?
First Ill return this dress to the designer, Emily jokes. Then I dont know. Ill keep living, learn to trust again. Maybe take a holiday somewhere sunny, no men involved.
Lets go on a break together, Kate offers. I have some savings.
Sounds perfect, Emily agrees. Somewhere with sun and sea.
They laugh, and Emily feels a weight liftShe boarded a train to Cornwall, heart lighter and eyes fixed on the horizon, ready for whatever comes next.
