I always thought I was about to marry a thriving businessman, until his actual wife turned up at the ceremony with three children.
My dear, youre mad! the couturier exclaimed, flinging his arms theatrically. Shes a oneoff piece; you cant simply recut her! It would be like asking Leonardo daVinci to add a moustache to the MonaLisa!
Im paying £500 for this dress and I expect it to fit like a glove, Emma said calmly, though her heart hammered. You can see the excess fabric right there. Ive lost weight over the past month.
At the last fitting you weighed exactly the same! the designer retorted. A bride may slim down or put on a few pounds, but not that quickly. This gown was sewn to your exact measurements.
Edward Clarke, Emma sighed, the wedding is in three days. I have no time for arguments. Please make the alterations I requested.
Edward gave her a curt look, then nodded. The dress sat a little loose. Emma had shed five kilograms in the month leading up to the weddingnot through dieting, but from endless errands and nerves. Invitations, the venue, the photographer, the floristsall fell on her shoulders. James was too absorbed in his enterprises to bother with such details.
Very well, Edward softened, pinning the fabric. Well make a queen of you. But dont lose any more weight, or I cant guarantee the result.
Emma smiled at her reflection. The white dress, with its lace bodice and billowing skirt, looked like something out of a storybook. She turned sideways, admiring the silhouette. In three days she would become the wife of James Bennett, owner of a construction firm and, by all accounts, the most charming man she had ever known.
Her phone buzzed. A message from James: Running late at a meeting. See you this evening. Kiss.
Emma swallowed a sigh. The third time that week. Business demanded his attention, she reminded herself. After the wedding they would finally have time for each other.
That night, while waiting for James at home, she sifted through photos for the wedding album. Here was their first seaside trip, a ski holiday in the Lake District, and the restaurant where James had proposed. Ten monthshardly long before marriage, but when you know hes the one, why wait?
A knock announced Jamess return. He dropped his coat on the armchair, tired yet smiling, and pulled Emma into a kiss.
Sorry for the delay. Investors from Birmingham needed extra care.
No trouble, Emma replied. Are you hungry? Ill heat up dinner.
I grabbed a bite at the office, James said, blinking. Tell me how the fitting went.
As Emma recounted the temperamental designer, James nodded absently, his gaze drifting to the phone in his hand.
Youre not listening, she noted.
Sorry, urgent matter, he typed quickly. What did you say?
Never mind, Emma rose. Ill take a shower. Its been a draining day.
The water washed away fatigue but not the unease. Lately James seemed distantperhaps prewedding nerves, perhaps work pressures. She emerged, wrapped in a towel, and heard James murmuring on the phone in the bedroom.
Yes, everythings fine. No, dont worry, Ive got it under control Right, of course Im also
Emma froze in the hallway. Who was he speaking to so tenderly? She slipped closer to the door.
Ill be home soon, James said before ending the call.
Home? He was already home. A cold knot tightened in Emmas chest. She opened the door.
Who were you talking to?
James startled, turning.
Victor, my deputy. We were discussing tomorrows meeting.
You said youd be home soon.
What? I meant Id be back at the office shortly. I misspoke. Im exhausted, Emma.
She tried to protest, but James drew her into an embrace, scented with an expensive cologne and, faintly, a hint of womens perfume. She dismissed it as the lingering fragrance of his secretary from a recent boardroom.
In three days youll be Emma Bennett, he whispered. Sounds lovely, doesnt it?
She pressed closer, the doubts of prewedding anxiety rising like a tide. What could possibly go wrong?
The next morning Emma visited her friend Katie to collect the beaded shoes she had asked her to embellish.
You look worried, Katie remarked, pouring tea. Prewedding jitters?
I dont know, Emma twirled the mug. Yesterday was odd. James seemed to be talking to someone on the phone and said hed be home soon, even though he already was.
Maybe he misspoke.
He did, but there was a different scent.
Youre being paranoid, Katie waved her hand. He runs a firm with a hundred staff, half of them women. Of course there could be a trace of perfume.
Emma forced a smile, though the anxiety lingered.
Are you both ready for married life? You havent even lived together.
Weve spent weekends together, gone on holidays. Thats enough to know a person.
And his parents?
They live up north, elderly, cant travel, but theyll attend the wedding.
Katie frowned, noting the lack of any meeting with his family, and remained silent. From the start she had regarded James with suspiciontoo perfect, too mysterious, too busy. Yet not every man is an open book.
That evening Emma decided to speak. In the kitchen James was scrolling through a tablet while she stirred a sauce.
James, I need to ask are we truly ready for marriage? she began, voice trembling.
What do you mean? he asked, surprised.
We know so little about each other. Ive never been to your house, never met your parents, I barely know your friends.
Emma, weve talked about this a hundred times, James said, setting the tablet aside. Ive spent most of my time in your flat while my own place is being renovated. Youll meet my parents at the wedding. As for friends, I dont have many; Im a workaholic, you know that.
Yes, but
No buts, he said, pulling her into a hug from behind. In two days youll be my wife. Well move into the new house Ive bought for us. A wonderful life awaits, I promise.
Emma nodded, though she had never seen the house. He claimed it would be a surprise after the ceremony, a romantic gesture that somehow also unsettled her.
Did you collect the wedding rings from the jeweller? she asked.
James froze.
Not yet. Ill go tomorrow.
Maybe Ill go myself. I need to be there.
No! Its my responsibility. Ill take care of everything.
That night Emma lay awake while James slept beside her, the ceiling staring back at her as she wrestled with her feelings. She loved him, trusted him, yet a part of her screamed danger.
At dawn James left early, saying he had to settle work matters before the wedding. Alone, Emma resolved to act. She found Victors number in her contacts and dialed.
Hello? a male voice answered.
Good afternoon, this is Emma, fiancé of James Bennett, she introduced. I need details about tomorrows event.
Excuse me? Victor sounded confused. What event?
Our wedding, Emma said, feeling a chill. Youre invited, arent you?
A long pause followed.
I dont know any James Bennett, Victor finally said. 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.
Emma sank onto a chair, her legs numb. She thanked Victor and hung up, staring at the empty room. Who was the man she had been planning to spend her life with?
With shaking hands she opened her laptop, typing the company name James claimed to own. Several firms with similar titles appeared, yet none listed a director named James Bennett. Social media, project listings, nothing.
She rummaged through a box of papers James had lefthis passport, drivers licence, a business card. The licence looked genuine, but the phone number on the card led to a dead line.
The front door opened; James returned. She quickly shoved the documents back into the box.
What are you doing? he asked, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Looking at our photos, Emma replied, lying. Tomorrow is a big day.
Indeed, he smiled, pulling a velvet box from his pocket. Inside lay two glittering gold bands.
Beautiful, Emma whispered, throat tight.
Want to try them on? he offered, holding out the smaller band.
No, she stepped back. Its a bad omen. Youll wear them tomorrow.
James laughed.
Superstitious, arent we? Lets keep it a surprise.
He smelled of expensive cologne, a faint trace of perfume still lingered, but Emma dismissed it as a secretarial scent.
Im heading to Katies, she said. Ill spend the night there. Tradition, you knowgroom doesnt see bride before the ceremony.
Of course, James agreed. Ill stay with a friend. See you tomorrow, love.
He kissed her long and tenderly, as if it might be the last. A tear escaped down her cheek.
At Katies, Emma spilled everythingthe call to Victor, the fruitless search, the odd inconsistencies in Jamess stories and behaviour.
Im scared he isnt who he says he is, Katie concluded, wiping Emmas tears.
Lets doublecheck, Katie said, opening her laptop. Full name?
James Edward Bennett.
Date of birth?
15May1979.
Katie typed furiously, brows furrowing.
Nothing. No news articles, no social media presence. Usually a successful businessman shows up somewhere.
Maybe hes reclusive?
To this degree? And that fake Victor Katie shook her head. Youre being duped, Emma. The question is why.
Money? Emma guessed. But I have none. Im a schoolteacher.
A house? A car?
I live with my parents, no car.
Could he be a con man planning to marry, collect gifts, and vanish?
It happens.
Exactly, Katie affirmed. Ive read about it. They usually target wealthy victims, but they can pick anyone.
Emma lay awake that night, a strange calm settling over her. By morning she knew what she would do: attend the ceremony, look the man who had lied to her for ten months straight in the eye, and ask why.
The wedding was booked at a modest country inn. Emma arrived an hour early to change and prepare. Guestsher parents, friends, colleagueshad begun to gather; Jamess party was absent.
In the bridal suite her friends helped with the dress and hair. The gown fit perfectly, yet Emma felt as though she were wearing someone elses skin.
James is here, a friend announced, peeking into the room. He looks dashing in his suit!
Her heart quickened. Would the truth finally emerge?
Fifteen minutes before the ceremony, Emma stood by the window watching the last cars arrive. A silver minivan pulled up, and a woman stepped out, welldressed, clutching three small children. She whispered something, and the kids obediently followed her toward the entrance.
A chill ran down Emmas spine. Something told her this was no accident. She slipped out of the suite and entered the main hall, where guests were already seated. James stood near the register, back turned to the door. The minivan doors opened and the woman entered, her face pale.
Silence fell. James turned slowly; his complexion went as white as a sheet.
Penny? the woman croaked, voice trembling. Whats happening?
Emma moved closer, bewildered. Jamesor was it Peter?stood between two women, eyes darting.
Ellie, he finally managed, what are you doing here?
What am I doing? the woman snapped. Your mother called me, said you were getting married! Peter, we have three children!
A murmur rose among the guests. Emma felt the floor give way beneath her. She grabbed the nearest chair.
James, she called out, voice shaking. Who is this?
What James? the woman shouted. Hes Peter Dmitriyevich Clarke. Hes my husband, the father of my kids. I work as a manager at a car dealership.
Emma stared at the childrena pair of boys and a little girl. The oldest, about ten, looked up at Peter with a puzzled expression.
Dad? he asked. Why are you in a suit? Is there a wedding?
Quiet, Kieran, Ellie scolded, Dad will explain everything later.
Peter finally spoke.
Ellie, children, wait outside. Ill sort this out.
No, Ellie crossed her arms. Im not leaving until I know whats going on.
Emma stepped forward, eyes locked on the man she had loved.
Who are you, really? she whispered.
He lowered his head.
Peter Clarke.
Are you married?
Yes.
And these are your children?
Yes.
The realization crashed over Emma like a wave; months of affection, future plans, all reduced to a lie.
Why? she managed to ask. Why did you do this?
Peter was silent. Ellie seized his arm.
Its been two years, hasnt it? Your trips, the late meetings Youve been living a double life!
Ellie, not now, Peter pleaded.
Now! she shouted. I trusted every word you said! And you
Emma interjected, Why pretend to be a businessman? Why fabricate the company, the parents, the proposal?
The hall was so quiet one could hear a moth flutter. All eyes watched the unfolding drama.
I I didnt plan this, Peter began, voice cracking. It got out of hand.
Out of hand? Emma repeated. You dated me ten months, proposed, organized a wedding, and it all spiralled?
I met you by chance, Peter continued. You were beautiful, intelligent. I wanted to impress you, so I invented a firm. Then I couldnt stop.
Why marry? Ellie asked.
Peter fell silent, gaze dropping.
I thought I could disappear after the ceremony, take the gifts, the money, and vanish, Katie, who had stepped forward, declared. Is that right, Peter?
No! he protested. I could never do that to Emma.
But you fooled her, Katie said, shaking her head. How long did you intend to keep two families?
Peter said nothing; his silence spoke louder than any confession.
Did you know she was married? Ellie asked, eyes fierce.
No, Emma replied, shaking her head. I only learned yesterday that you were lying, and I never imagined it would be this monstrous.
Disgusting, isnt it? Ellie said. Exactly that.
She turned to the children.
Lets go home. We have nothing to do here.
The children obeyed, trailing after their mother. Ellie lingered a moment.
Ill take the kids and go to my mother. You can stay, Peter, if you want, but dont expect me to return.
She left, head held high.
Peter stood alone, surrounded by accusing stares. Emma looked at him and no longer recognized the man she thought she loved.
You should leave, she whispered.
Emma, please, I can explain
No explanations needed, she said, shaking her head. Just go.
He lingered a heartbeat longer, then turned and walked out, unchallenged.
Emma remained in the centre of the hall, her white wedding dress immaculate, the guests hushed. A strange mix of emptiness and relief washed over her. Katie came over, embracing her gently.
Shall we leave? Katie asked. Ill drive you home.
No, Emma said suddenly. Weve already paid for the banquet. The guests are here. Lets just celebrate.
Celebrate what? Katie protested.
My liberation, Emma managed a faint smile. Imagine if shed arrived after the ceremony, or a year later, or when we already had children.
She scanned the room.
Apologies for the drama. There will be no wedding, but the banquet is paid, the music booked. Lets make the most of itAs the first glass of champagne clinked and laughter rose, Emma realized that the night, however unexpected, marked the true beginning of her own courageous, uncharted future.
