Five Years' Love, Shattered by a Call
My wedding to Ethan, the man I’d loved for five years, was weeks away.
Everything was set for our future, a beautifully planned life together.
Then the call came: Ethan’s high school sweetheart, Chloe, was found with severe amnesia, still believing she was his girlfriend.
Ethan postponed our wedding, asked me to pretend to be his brother Liam’s girlfriend, insisting it was "for Chloe’s sake."
I endured quiet agony watching him relive their past, his every loving gesture now for her.
Chloe’s Instagram became a public shrine to their "rekindled" love, #TrueLove emblazoned everywhere.
I even found a groundbreaking clinic for Chloe, hoping for an end, but Ethan brushed it off.
Then, I overheard him: I was just a "placeholder," a "good sport" who would wait, because I had "nowhere else to go."
Five years of my life, my love, my loyalty, reduced to a disposable convenience.
The cold, calculated betrayal punched the air from my lungs.
He thought I was trapped, that he could use me at will, then return to me, expecting gratitude.
Numb, I stumbled.
And then, I met Liam, Ethan’s quiet brother.
"I need to get married, Liam. To someone. Soon." The words escaped me.
Liam, who had watched silently, responded: "What if I said I'd marry you, Ava? For real."
A dangerous, desperate plan ignited within me, fueled by pain and a fierce desire for reckoning.
"Alright, Liam," I declared, a new resolve hardening my voice.
"But I have conditions: Ethan must be your Best Man, and he must give me away at the altar."
The charade was about to begin, but now, it was on my terms.
And Ethan had no idea the bride was truly me.