27 March 2025 News Time Uncategorised 0
Love stories aren’t supposed to end the night before the wedding. But mine did. My fiancé called and shattered our future with four words: “I can’t marry you.” Days later, I learned the cruelest truth: he hadn’t just dumped me… he’d replaced me.
Jerry and I met when I was seven and he was nine, both with scraped knees and wild imaginations. We spent summers climbing trees and winters building snow forts. At some point, our friendship blossomed into something more, but neither of us ever said it out loud. I still remember the day something changed between us: senior year, homecoming…
A couple in love | Source: Unsplash
“Will you dance with me, Bridget?” he asked me, his hand extended.
That night, under cheap streamers and a disco ball, I realized I’d always been in love with him.
During college, we supported each other’s dreams. When he entered business school, I spent all night helping him pack. When I got my first journalism job, he brought champagne to my modest apartment.
The proposal came on a random Tuesday. No fancy restaurant, no hidden ring in the dessert. Just Jerry, kneeling in the kitchen while I wore fuzzy socks and his old T-shirt.
Close-up of a couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” he said, his voice slightly trembling. “Will you marry me?”
I said yes before he could even finish asking. That night, tangled in our sheets, I whispered, “I can’t believe we’re getting married.”
Jerry stroked my cheek with his finger. “It was always going to be you, Bridget. Always.”
Eight months of planning had resulted in the perfect wedding of my dreams. I spent every weekend tasting cakes, choosing flowers, and sending out invitations. My mother cried when I found my dress. My father rehearsed his speech for months.
A stunning wedding venue | Source: Unsplash
The night before the wedding, I was at my parents’ house. It was tradition not to see the bride before the ceremony. My bridesmaids had just left after our small celebration. I was hanging up my wedding dress when my phone rang.
“Jerry?” I answered, smiling.
The silence on the other end lasted too long.
“I…” Her voice cracked. “I can’t do this anymore.”
My knees buckled. “What are you talking about?”
A shocked woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Every word sounded torn from him.
“Jerry, if you’re nervous, that’s normal…”
“It’s not that. It’s just… I can’t.”
“Talk to me. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”
“I can’t… I can’t marry you.”
I froze. Before I could process his words, the line went dead.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I called again. I called again. And again. He didn’t answer. I called his parents, his friends. But no one knew anything. My mother hugged me while I screamed until my voice failed me.
“What kind of person does this?” I choked out between sobs.
My mother stroked my hair, tears streaming down her own face. “I don’t know, honey. I don’t know.”
Three days passed in a blur. I canceled vendors, returned gifts, and endured endless pitying looks. I hadn’t showered or eaten. Then my phone received a text from my best friend, Mara.
“Call me. Now.”
When I did, his voice was strange.
Close-up of a woman holding her phone | Source: Unsplash
“Have you seen the photos?”
“What photos?”
A pause. Then: “Jerry got married.”
I laughed. “That’s not funny.”
“Bridget, I’m serious. There are pictures on the Internet. He… got married the same day you were supposed to get married.”
“That’s impossible.” My heart hammered against my ribs. “With whom?”
“With a woman named Ellen. I don’t know her.”
A newlywed couple kissing | Source: Pexels
I hung up and, with trembling hands, opened my social media feed. There he was. Jerry, wearing the tuxedo he’d picked out for our wedding, smiling next to a woman I’d never met before.
My stomach churned, and I could barely make it to the bathroom. When I could breathe again, I called her number, not expecting a reply. But this time she answered.
“Bridget…”
“Who is it?”.
“I can explain it to you.”
“Then explain it to me! You owe me.”
Silence, then a deep breath. “Can we meet?”
“Now”.
A man holding his phone | Source: Midjourney
We met in the park where we had first kissed. Jerry looked terrible: his eyes bloodshot, his shoulders slumped.
I didn’t sit on the bench next to him. I stood with my arms crossed.
“Speaks”.
He rubbed his face. “Remember when I was eleven and needed that heart surgery?”
“And what does that have to do with it?”
An emotional man | Source: Midjourney
“Everything.” Her eyes met mine, filled with anguish. “My parents couldn’t afford it. They were going to lose the house trying to pay. Then that man, Mr. Hargrove, intervened.”
“Ellen’s father,” I guessed, the pieces falling into place.
Jerry nodded. “He paid for everything. He saved my life. But just the day before our wedding, he showed up at our apartment… and called in his debt.”
Money hidden in a suitcase | Source: Pexels
“Her daughter had pictures of me on her wall since high school. She’d been obsessed with me for years.” Jerry’s voice cracked. “She said either I married Ellen, or my family would have to pay her back… with interest. My parents would lose everything.”
“So you chose her?”
“He gave me no choice! He threatened my family’s business, said he’d make sure my dad never worked again.” Jerry tried to take my hand, but I pulled away. “And he made me promise not to tell anyone why.”
“Why on our wedding day?”
A furious woman | Source: Midjourney
Jerry’s face crumpled. “It was Ellen’s idea. A sick power move. I fought her, but…”
“But not enough.”
“I hate myself for what I’ve done to you, Bridget… I’ve never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”
I stood up, my whole body shaking. “Love doesn’t do this.”
“Bridget…”
“Goodbye, Jerry.”
***
Five years passed. I moved to Chicago and built a career I was proud of. I started therapy, learned to trust again, and started dating someone… nothing serious, though.
A lonely woman looking out the window | Source: Pexels
Sometimes I still thought about Jerry, wondering if he was happy in his forced marriage and if it had been worth it.
Then one night, I came home to find someone sitting on the steps of my brownstone.
Jerry.
Five years had changed him. His dark hair had silver threads at the temples. Lines framed his eyes. But something else was different.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, keys clenched in my hand.
A man in front of a house | Source: Midjourney
“I left her,” he said simply. “Or rather, she left me.”
I gestured for him to move so I could open the door. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Ellen finally realized she couldn’t force someone to love her.” She followed me upstairs, but stayed in the doorway. “The obsession faded when reality set in. We’ve been legally separated for a year.”
I put down my bag, a storm of emotions warring inside me. “And his father?”
“He died two years ago.” Jerry leaned against the doorframe. “The debt is paid. I’m free.”
A person’s grave | Source: Pexels
“So you came straight here? What did you expect?”
“Nothing. I don’t expect anything. I just needed you to know that I’ve never stopped loving you. I saw your parents and they gave me your address.”
I stared at him. “Love isn’t enough, Jerry. Not after what happened.”
“I know.” He took a business card out of his pocket and placed it on my nightstand. “I’ll be in Chicago for a month. If you want to talk… about anything… I’m here. If not, I’ll understand.”
A woman with a broken heart | Source: Midjourney
“Did you ever tell your parents the truth?” I asked as he turned to walk away.
Jerry paused. “Yeah. Last year. They told me I should have gone to them. That they would have thought of something.” His smile was sad. “They also told me I was an idiot for letting you go.”
“They were right.”
“I know. Bye, Bridget.”
Three weeks passed before I called. We met for coffee. Then we had dinner the following week. Then a walk around the lake.
A couple strolling by the lake | Source: Pexels
Slowly and cautiously, we began to rebuild a relationship. Not the one we had before… that one was gone forever. This was something new… something fragile.
“I thought you were never going to talk to me again,” Jerry confessed to me one afternoon as we walked back to my apartment.
“Me neither.” I looked up at the stars. “But I spent five years being angry, and I was fed up.”
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
I stopped walking. “It’s not about what you deserve. It’s about what I choose.”
Her eyes filled with hope. “And what do you choose?”
“I’m still figuring it out.” I took her hand, and our fingers intertwined for the first time in years. “But I’d like to keep trying, if you’d like.”
Cropped photo of a couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
Jerry squeezed my hand. “As long as you’ll let me.”
It took two more years of long conversations, rebuilding trust, and learning about each other again. We were different people now. Stronger, perhaps.
When Jerry proposed for the second time, there was no ring. Just the two of us on my couch on a Sunday morning.
“I’ve loved you since I was 17,” he said, taking my hands in his. “I’ll love you until my last breath. Will you marry me, Bridget? For real this time?”
Couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
I studied his face, the face I’d known for most of my life. The face that had caused me so much pain and, now, so much joy.
“Yes,” I whispered. “But this time, we’re eloping.”
He laughed, tears in his eyes. “Deal.”
We got married three months later, just the two of us with a witness, on a beach in Hawaii. No families, no friends, no debts. Just promises we intended to keep.
A stunning beach wedding | Source: Pexels
That night, watching the sunset from our garden, Jerry put his arms around me.
“Do you regret it?” I asked. “The years we wasted?”
“Every day,” he admitted. “But we were led here. And I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.”
I turned in his arms to face him. “No more secrets or sacrifices. Promise me.”
“I promise.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “Now it’s just us. Nothing and no one will ever come between us again.”
Grayscale shot of a couple sitting on a wooden bench | Source: Pexels
I believed him. Not because love conquered all… I knew that better than anyone now. But because we both learned the hard way that what we had was worth fighting for. It was worth waiting for. And it was worth choosing every day.
“I love you,” I said. Simple words for a complicated journey.
“I love you too,” he replied. “I’ve always loved you. I always will.”
And this time I knew it was true.
A couple hugging | Source: Unsplash
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental and not the author’s intention.
The author and publisher do not guarantee the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters, and are not responsible for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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