Hazel’s wedding is beautiful until a mystery lady claims to be Sam’s wife and ruins it. Hazel confronts a life-changing event when the truth emerges. Love isn’t always what it appears, and sometimes the unexpected is even better.
I sat in front of the mirror, sliding my fingertips over my wedding dress’s lace to trace the exquisite flower designs.
Today was it.
Taking a long inhale, I smelled peonies and roses from my bouquet.
Getting married to Sam.
Love of my life.
The young guy who brought me a daisy in a June thunderstorm, beaming like he had picked the sun for me. He knew my coffee order down to the extra shot of vanilla before I realized I had a regular order.
Whether we were laughing or arguing, he kissed my forehead every night.
Him I knew. I knew his steady hands, calm strength, and how his gaze softened when they discovered me in a throng.
Sam was my refuge.
I giggled at myself as a tear pinched my eye corner, wiping it away before it fell.
“Careful,” my maid of honor, Lauren, said from the doorway with a glass of champagne. “We spent way too long on your makeup for you to ruin it now.”
Shaking my head, I took the glass.
“I just…” My voice shook. “I can’t believe this is real.”
Lauren grinned, “You’re soon to be a wife.
A wife.
I was excited by the term. It wasn’t simply a wedding.
We got married. Our beginning.
I would walk down the aisle toward the guy I’d loved for what seemed like a lifetime in 30 minutes.
Everything was wonderful. Flowers, music, and visitors’ peaceful hum. My pulse pounded as I looked at Sam, my five-year fiancé, with my fingers wrapped around my bouquet at the altar.
We were seconds from eternity.
I envisioned this moment a thousand times, his look when I said I do, and his voice when he swore to love me forever.
Door creaked open.
Every head in the room turned as the boom sliced through the quiet.
A lady entered.
She walked slowly with her heels on the floor. She was gorgeous. Long, black hair hung over one shoulder, and her lips were vivid red.
It wasn’t her attractiveness that chilled me.
The way she regarded Sam.
My Sam.
“Aren’t you going to tell them?” Her voice was bold and polished.
My bouquet-holding fingers tensed.
“Tell us what?” Swallowed.
She didn’t look at me. She focused on Sam.
“That you’re married, Sam,” she added.
The room breathed simultaneously, gasps and whispers reverberating everywhere. I choked on my breath. My hands felt heavy with flowers, like I was drowning. Engagement ring felt like flesh branding.
I looked at Sam, expecting for him to laugh, shake his head, or do something! Anything to establish this was a cruel prank.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he advanced.
I felt my heart hit my ribs.
We heard whispers. My mother tensed beside me, reaching for her lips. Wide-eyed, my bridesmaids dropped their flowers.
Each heartbeat was loud in the quiet.
He approached her at our wedding.
The air may have fled my lungs.
My fiancé moved confidently. He didn’t hurry to correct her or refute it.
He then hugged her, God help me.
The room became silent from shock.
Tilted planet. My hands shook. I wanted to move, speak, and scream but couldn’t.
Sam murmured against her ear. Something she alone heard.
She laughed softly.
I felt like the earth had shattered and I was plummeting into nothing.
When he turned back, his face was filled with an unrecognizable emotion.
Regret?
Pain?
Betrayal?
“I…” He breathed hard and rubbed his face. “Hazel, I need to explain this.”
“You…” My voice broke. “You’re married?”
“No.” His voice was too cautious. It was like calculating how many words to describe.
“Not exactly, Hazel,” he said.
The stranger who had ruined my wedding chuckled casually, shaking her head.
“Wow,” she said. “That’s one way to put it.”
Voice shaking, I turned to her.
“Who are you?”
For the first time, her eyes met mine and softened.
Just “My name is Anna,” she said.
Anna.
I heard the name, the parts clicking slowly and painfully.
Sam had mentioned her earlier.
Childhood best pal. A longtime friend. However, he never discussed marriage.
Bile rose in my throat, making me ill.
“Sam,” I forced out. I want the truth. Right now. Present to relatives and friends.”
Before turning to me, he gulped hard and glanced between us.
“When we were kids, we had a pretend wedding,” acknowledged. Candy ring pops, scrawled vows, and Anna playing ukulele. It seemed genuine at the moment. We were 12.”
Running his fingers over his hair, he laughed nervously.
“But Anna is my best friend, that’s all.”
Room appeared to hold breath.
“Then, why…” Voice broke.
Cleared my throat and tried again.
You held her like that—why? Why did she enter and say that?”
Samantha’s face clouded. He sighed after much deliberation.
“A few years ago,” stated, “Anna was in a terrible car accident.”
Silence.
“The doctors said that she might never walk again.”
I heard my mother gasp as the room became silent. Again, I clutched my bouquet.
I asked “And then?”
“Anna spent years in rehab, fighting to get her life back,” Sam said. “I asked her to the wedding because how could I not? However, she said she couldn’t attend.”
Sam’s voice grew. I saw emotion in his eyes for the first time as he looked to Anna.
Not love.
It was different.
But it was as profound.
The speaker whispered, “She didn’t want me to know she was coming…”
Anna added, “I wanted to walk through those doors by myself,” gently. “I’ve practiced heels for years. I’ve been practicing walking in these for your day.”
Heart clenched.
Anna breathed slowly and looked at me.
“I’m so sorry for the drama, Hazel,” she replied, sounding guilty and amused. “Sam and I have always pranked each other, and I thought… why not one last time?”
She laughed softly, shaking her head.
I wanted to see his expression when he saw me enter most. following the accident, I isolated myself following my diagnosis. I couldn’t believe I’d be wheelchair-bound forever.”
Anna stopped to let us process her dilemma.
“Sam obtained me a space at the institution, and I walked in knowing the wheelchair reality may still find me. When I got there, I shut Sam and the world out again. Worked my tail off. Here we are.”
Tears burnt behind my eyelids. This is unbelievable. This lady fought her way up to regain her footing.
“I stalked Sam on social media,” Anna laughed. I’ve never seen him so joyful. Never once in my years knowing him. I contacted him after he wrote about your engagement to express my congratulations. Then we resumed chatting…”
I grinned at Sam.
I am thrilled for you both. Really “Anna declared.
Room was silent. Laughter followed.
The breath across my lips was soft at first. It then strengthened. It erupted within me, shocking me.
We weren’t betrayed. Not heartbreak. This was amazing.
My attention returned to Sam. Relief flooded his face as he separated his lips. I knew as I saw him with an open heart and eyes, surveying all we’d created.
It was correct.
“Come, take a seat here, Anna,” my mother replied, adjusting her purse.
The room relaxed as visitors murmured and laughed.
“Cue the music,” Sam remarked. “It’s time to get married.”
“Now, let’s get this show on the road,” the preacher smiled.
Things were back on track. Most of all?
The way Sam gazed at me brought me serenity. I needed nothing else.
At our wedding reception, laughter and conversation mixed with clinking cutlery.
Warm, savory rosemary, garlic, and butter scents permeated the air. Dinner was wonderful.
The lemon-herb chicken and truffle risotto were gone.
“Well done, Hazel,” I said. “You did a damn good job on the menu choice.”
My wedding was ideal.
I inhaled as I sat with my champagne glass chilled.
The love. The delight. The warmth of it all.
A quiet giggle escaped me. After how the ceremony began, I was lucky to be here celebrating our forever.
“Am I forgiven yet?”
Anna was slipping into the vacant seat next me, her eyes flashing with shame and delight.
“Well, you did nearly give me a heart attack,” I replied, watching Sam dance with my mom.
“Okay, fair,” Anna winced. “But… you’re happy?”
I sighed, watching Sam. He smiled when he turned, sensing my gaze.
That sweet grin. That always felt like home.
My chest tightened.
“Yeah, I really am.”
Anna grins.
“Then I’ll consider myself mostly forgiven.”
Though I rolled my eyes, my lips smiled. As the music grew and Sam approached, I was pleased.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s dance.”
