I thought I had met the perfect man. Jake was charming, successful, and had a way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the world. For the past month, every date had felt like something out of a romance novel—rooftop dinners, quiet walks by the river, and surprise picnics in hidden gardens.
But everything changed the night he vanished.
We had been out for dinner at an elegant rooftop restaurant. The candlelight flickered between us, the city skyline glowing in the background. But Jake was different that night. He wasn’t his usual self. His jaw tightened when he thought I wasn’t looking, his responses were short, and his eyes had a distant look.
“Long day?” I asked, trying to make sense of his mood.
“You could say that.” He barely looked at me.
I set my fork down, watching him closely. “You seem… different tonight.”
He forced a smile. “Do I? Sorry, I guess I’m just tired.”
Tired? No. Something wasn’t right. He hardly touched his food, and by the time dessert arrived, he suddenly sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“I think I might have caught something,” he murmured. “We should cancel our weekend trip to the lake house.”
I frowned. “What? But we’ve been planning that trip for weeks. Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I just need a few days to rest.”
I searched his face for an answer, but all I saw was a man who seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. When he dropped me off at my apartment later, I lingered in the doorway, hoping he’d say something more. Instead, he kissed my cheek, whispered goodnight, and left.
Something felt off.
The next morning, silence. No text. No call.
By lunchtime, I was staring at my phone, willing it to ring. But it just sat there, motionless. Finally, unable to take the suspense any longer, I grabbed a basket of fresh fruit and decided to check on him.
He said he wasn’t feeling well—so he needed food, right? That’s what I told myself. But in truth, I just needed to see him.
When I arrived at his house, his driveway was empty. No lights. No movement. I rang the doorbell. Nothing.
“Jake?” I called, knocking harder. “Jake, it’s me, Emily!”
Still no answer.
Then, a voice behind me.
“Looking for someone?”
I turned to see an older woman standing by the picket fence, her graying hair tied into a neat bun.
“Yes,” I said, forcing a smile. “I was just checking on Jake. He said he wasn’t feeling well.”
“Oh, he’s not home. He’s at a wedding.”
I blinked. “A wedding?”
She nodded, smiling like she’d just delivered the juiciest piece of gossip. “Yes, his own!”
My heart stopped.
“His… own wedding?” I whispered, feeling the world tilt beneath me.
“Guess whatever he caught must’ve been ‘commitment fever,’” she chuckled. “Dangerous stuff, I hear.”
I felt like I was drowning.
“Oh, it’s no mistake,” she continued. “It’s at Nora’s house—the red-and-white one with the big garden on Maple Street.”
“Nora?” I repeated. “Who is she?”
“She’s Julia’s mother, the bride’s mother.”
Julia. The bride.
Without another word, I turned and walked to my car, my hands shaking as I gripped the wheel. My mind was racing with images of Jake—his soft smiles, the way he held my hand across the dinner table. How could he be standing at an altar with someone else?
The house on Maple Street was decorated for a dream wedding. Guests milled about, laughter and music filling the air. And there he was—Jake. Standing on the steps in a perfectly tailored suit, looking as handsome as ever. Beside him, a woman in a flowing white dress.
I wanted to run, but before I could move, a tall woman emerged from the house. Her sharp gaze landed on me like a spotlight.
“I know who you are,” she said coldly. “My son Jake is married now. I suggest you leave him alone.”
Nora. The mother of the bride.
Her words sliced through me, but before I could respond, Jake turned. He saw me. His face drained of color, and within seconds, he was rushing toward me.
“Emily,” he gasped. “I can explain.”
“You’re married?” My voice shook.
“It’s not what it looks like.” He grabbed my hand. “Julia’s sick… Her mother begged me. The insurance will cover her surgery.”
I stared at him, my vision blurring with tears. “Who does this if they’re not in love?”
I turned and ran.
The next day, I tried everything to distract myself. But no matter what I did, Jake’s face, Nora’s smug smile, and Julia’s white dress haunted me.
And Julia… she didn’t look sick. Not even a little.
Something wasn’t right.
That evening, I found myself back at the house. I knew it was crazy, but I needed answers.
As I crept closer, I heard raised voices from inside. Julia’s.
“You staged all of this! Why? He doesn’t love me. You lied about me being sick to manipulate him into marrying me!”
Then, Nora’s chilling response.
“I did it for you. You’d be a fool to let a man like Jake slip away. He’s too honorable to leave you now, no matter what.”
My heart pounded. I pulled out my phone and dialed Jake.
“You need to see this,” I whispered.
I turned my camera toward the window, letting him hear the truth for himself.
Minutes later, his car screeched to a stop outside. He passed me without a word, his face like stone as he stormed inside.
The next morning, there was a knock on my door.
Jake stood there, looking exhausted.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
I stepped aside, and he walked in, standing in the middle of my living room, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“I filed for an annulment,” he said. “It’s over.”
I swallowed. “Why did you agree to it in the first place?”
He sighed, rubbing his face. “Julia and I grew up together. When my mom died, she was there for me. When Nora called, saying Julia was sick and refused help unless it was from me… I thought I was doing the right thing.”
I studied his face. This wasn’t the confident, charming Jake I had known. He looked broken.
“Let’s go outside,” I said gently. “We both need a long walk.”
He hesitated, then smiled slightly. “Or… we could go to the lake. I’ll renew the booking.”
I laughed softly. “I never unpacked my suitcase.”
And just like that, we left. Away from the lies, away from the past. Because love isn’t about perfection—it’s about finding the courage to face the mess together.