Chapter 1: Shattered Wedding Dreams
1172 Words
The boutique smelled of peonies and perfume, the air thick with excitement and the scent of expensive silk.
Lily Evans turned in front of the mirror, her mother clapping softly. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s the one. You look beautiful.”
Her soon-to-be mother-in-law, Margaret Hartley, nodded approvingly from her chair, a hand pressed to her pearls. “Leon won’t believe his eyes when he sees you in that, darling. The lace is exquisite.”
Beside her, Leon’s sister—Abigail, all sharp cheekbones and polite smiles—scrolled through her phone, muttering, “You’ll break the internet with this one.”
Lily laughed lightly, trying to steady her nerves. “I’m not sure about the sleeves…”
“Nonsense,” Margaret declared. “It’s elegant. Classy. You’re going to be part of this family, Lily. It needs to be perfect.”
Her mother squeezed her hand. “It will be.”
For a moment, everything felt warm and right. The dress hugged her figure just so, the veil caught the light like spun sugar. She could already imagine Leon’s face when she walked down the aisle—his wide grin, the dimple in his left cheek. The man she’d loved since university, her safe place.
She changed back into her clothes, promised to call the boutique tomorrow, and left with her mother still gushing about flowers and table linens. The two women chatted the whole drive home, but Lily’s mind was miles away.
By the time they reached the house, she was exhausted—happy, but drained. Her mother hugged her tightly in the doorway. “Rest, sweetheart. Big week ahead.”
When the door clicked shut, Lily exhaled, finally alone. The house was quiet, sun pooling across the polished floors. Leon’s jacket hung carelessly over a chair, his phone buzzing faintly on the side table.
She wasn’t the type to snoop. She had never been. But something about the way it kept lighting up—three messages in under a minute—made her glance over.
Mia flashed across the screen—his assistant.
Her heart gave a small, hard thump. She hesitated, chewing her lip, then picked it up.
The first message preview was harmless enough. “Still thinking about last night 😉”
The second wasn’t. “Can’t wait for another round. You drive me mad.”
The third included a photo she couldn’t mistake for anything innocent.
Lily’s hand went cold. Her pulse roared in her ears. The world narrowed to the glowing screen in her trembling hand.
She read every word. Every emoji. Every lie.
When she heard the front door open, she stood perfectly still, gripping the phone. Leon’s voice floated down the hall, casual as ever. “Lil? You home, love?”
He walked in, loosened his tie, kissed her cheek—then froze when he saw his phone in her hand.
“Where did you get that?” he asked quietly.
Her voice was a whisper. “You left it right here.”
He swallowed, his eyes flicking from her face to the screen. “Okay… that looks bad, but—”
“‘Still thinking about last night,’” she read, her voice breaking. “What exactly does that mean, Leon?”
He sighed, already weary, as though she were the one exhausting him. “It was stupid, alright? It just happened once. It didn’t mean anything.”
Her stomach lurched. “You slept with her.”
He rubbed a hand through his hair, looking irritated. “I said it was a mistake. Don’t make a scene about it.”
“Don’t make a—” She laughed, a strangled, hysterical sound. “Leon, we’re getting married next month! I’ve spent every day planning this wedding while you’ve been—what? Sleeping with your assistant?”
“Stop shouting,” he snapped, glancing toward the window. “The neighbours don’t need to hear this.”
Lily pressed a hand to her chest, trying to breathe. Her vision blurred. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m human,” he said flatly. “People make mistakes. It’s not worth throwing everything away for.”
That was when something in her broke.
She turned, stormed into the bedroom, and yanked open the wardrobe. Her suitcase hit the bed with a dull thud. Dresses, jumpers, random clothes—all of it went in at once.
“Lily, for God’s sake,” Leon groaned, following her. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” She spun on him, eyes wild. “You cheated on me, Leon! You lied to me for months!”
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as if bored with the entire conversation. “You’re blowing it out of proportion. It’s not like I’m in love with her.”
“That’s meant to make me feel better?”
He shrugged. “You’ll calm down. We’ll talk in the morning.”
That calm, patronising tone—the one he used when she disagreed with him about anything—made her see red. “No. There won’t be a morning. The wedding’s off.”
He froze. “Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not marrying a liar.”
“Lily—”
“I said it’s over!” she shouted, tears spilling now, her voice cracking under the weight of it all.
Leon pulled out his phone, muttering, “Fine. Maybe your mum can talk some sense into you.”
“Don’t you dare—”
But it was too late. She heard him speaking in low tones. “Margaret? Yeah, she’s having one of her moods. Could you—? Yes, come round, would you?”
Her rage turned cold. “You called my mother?”
He met her eyes, defensive. “Someone has to be reasonable here.”
Reasonable. The word rang in her ears like a slap.
She zipped the suitcase, grabbed her coat, and headed for the door.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“Away from you.”
“Lily!” His voice followed her, sharp and commanding. “Don’t walk out like this!”
But she did. She walked straight past him, suitcase wheels rattling against the marble floor. Her vision blurred again as she stepped into the freezing night air.
The moment the door slammed behind her, her phone started vibrating.
First, it was her mother. Then Margaret. Then Abigail. Then all of them at once. Calls. Voicemails. Messages are lighting up the screen like fireworks.
Lily, come back. Don’t do anything rash.
Sweetheart, you can fix this.
You’re overreacting. Every couple has rough patches.
Please, talk to Leon.
She stared at the screen, hands shaking, then pressed Do Not Disturb.
The silence that followed was deafening.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and began walking down the quiet street, the suitcase trailing behind her. Her tears blurred the streetlights into streaks of gold.
Behind her was betrayal. Ahead of her—nothing but the unknown.
But at least, for the first time, it was hers.
- Writer
