The Other Woman's Wedding

Eleven years. We’d been together for eleven years when Ethan Hayes promised me the wedding of the century.
But three days before I was supposed to walk down the aisle, an anonymous email landed in my inbox.
It was a photo: Ethan and another woman, beaming, holding up a marriage certificate from City Hall.
Her smile was radiant. The way Ethan looked at her was pure adoration.
The caption was a single, chilling line: “I’m coming home.”

I took the photo to Ethan. His response was a casual shrug.
“It’s real,” he said, as if discussing the weather. “Sienna decided she never wants to get married for real, but she wanted to know what it felt like to get the license. I was just helping her out.”
My mind flashed back to the day he proposed. I remembered the giddy way I’d blasted the news to hundreds of friends, the absolute fool I must have looked.
“If you have a problem with it,” he added, his voice cool, “we can just cancel the wedding. It’s not like I have to marry you.”
“I’ll marry you,” I said.
The wedding would go on as planned. But it would be his one-man show.

1
“Good. You get ready, then,” Ethan said, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smirk. He knew he’d won. He’d always been sure that no matter what, I’d never leave him. “Sienna’s flight gets in today. I’m going to pick her up, and we’re having a welcome home party for her tonight. You can go to the final dress fitting by yourself.”

And why wouldn’t he be sure? For eleven years, I was the one doing the chasing. I gave up my first-choice university for him, passed on my dream job to follow his. I even missed my parents’ last moments because I was on another continent with him. He was used to it—to me sacrificing everything for him. So even after he legally married Sienna, he expected me to walk down that aisle without a second thought.

“Oh, and you need to be at the party tonight,” he said, adjusting his cuffs in the reflection of the floor-length mirror, glancing at me. “Sienna specifically mentioned she hasn’t seen you in ages and wants to catch up. I’ll text you the address. Just head over right after your fitting.”

Ethan and Sienna. They were the golden couple, the prom king and queen everyone assumed would end up together. When we were kids playing house, they were the prince and princess; I was the maid who served them. He was the sun in my universe, brilliant and untouchable. If Sienna hadn’t moved abroad all those years ago, I probably never would have had a chance.

And Sienna was so thoughtful, wasn’t she? Sending me that little email before she came back.
But this time, for the first time, I didn’t just roll over.
“I can’t make it tonight,” I said. “I have plans.”
Ethan’s smile vanished. “You have plans?” he scoffed. “What could you possibly have plans for?”
“Packing,” I said under my breath. To get the hell out of here.
He cut me off before I could finish.
“Tessa, for God’s sake, can you not be dramatic?” His voice was sharp. “You can’t even be bothered to come up with a good lie. You have to be there tonight. I already promised Sienna. If she can be mature enough to see you, the least you can do is not be so petty.”

2
She could be mature enough to see me. Wasn’t that only because I was the one being gracious?
But there was no point in arguing. Ethan wouldn’t listen.
He left, and I didn’t say another word. The silence in the apartment was deafening as I tried to figure out how I was going to tell my grandfather that the wedding was off.
I dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring. “Tessa-girl.”
“Grandpa,” I started, my voice tight. “That little start-up you said you’d give me… is the offer still on the table?”
There was a brief pause. “Tessa? You’re not getting married?”
“No.”
I braced myself for the questions, the disappointment. But all he said was, “Alright. A promise is a promise. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”
After hanging up, I called the bridal shop to cancel my fitting, then I started to pack. The apartment belonged to Ethan. I’d moved in a year ago, right after his grand proposal. That period had been the happiest of my life. “Tessa,” he’d said, down on one knee. “I can charge forward without fear because I know you’re always behind me. It’s been ten years. I want to give us a real home. Will you marry me?”
Of course, I said yes. I moved in the next day, pouring my heart into every detail, turning this empty space into our home. I watched it fill with warmth and life, and my heart swelled with a satisfaction I’d never known.
But looking around now, I realized almost nothing in it was mine. It was all for him. And it was all useless now.
I grabbed a handful of large trash bags. Into them went the decorative pieces I’d bought for his study, the matching “his and hers” items he’d never used, the celebratory banners for the wedding in three days, and our engagement photos, which he’d insisted on keeping hidden in the back of the closet.
I was halfway through when the doorbell rang.
Two people in professional black uniforms stood at the door, clipboards in hand.
“Good afternoon, are you Ms. Sienna Laurent?”
A bitter smile touched my lips. “I’m not. If you’re looking for her, you might want to try again in a few days.”
Once I was gone, this would be their home. Or maybe they’d find it tainted by my presence and move somewhere else. Not my problem anymore.
“Is there anyone else home?” one of them asked. “We contacted Ms. Laurent through the homeowner’s group chat. We’re here for the annual fire safety inspection.”
“The homeowner’s group chat?”

3
I had lived here for a year and had never heard of any homeowner’s group chat.
And why would Sienna be in it?
“Yes, ma’am. Our records are based on the property deed. Apartment 1201 is registered to Mr. Ethan Hayes and Ms. Sienna Laurent. Are you a friend of theirs, or…?”
Their eyes shifted, their professional smiles tightening. I was standing there in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, looking nothing like a guest.
But I couldn't spare a single thought for what they were thinking.
It felt like the top of my skull had been peeled back and my veins filled with cement. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe.
I thought I was living in Ethan’s home. I thought I was building our future love nest.
But the truth?
I was a guest in the home he co-owned with Sienna.
The absurdity of it was suffocating.
“I’m sorry, this isn’t her home. Please leave,” I snapped, pushing them out and slamming the door. The moment it clicked shut, my strength gave out. I slid down the door, burying my face in my arms, my body trembling.
I’d been with him since I was eighteen, following him across the country, across the world, for a decade. A year ago, he proposed, and we finally settled down.
And only today did I learn the truth. On the very day he proposed, the day I was ecstatically telling everyone I was getting married, he was at City Hall, signing a marriage certificate with Sienna.
The home I’d lived in for a year had both their names on the deed.
They were the legally married couple.
So what did that make me? The girlfriend of eleven years.
What the hell was I?
A wave of fury washed over me. I tore through the apartment, ripping open drawers, throwing things aside until I found it in his study: the dark red folder containing the deed.
Just then, my phone began to scream, ringing over and over.
After what felt like an eternity, my numb fingers finally answered.
“Where have you been? I told you to come to the party. Where are you?” Ethan’s voice was impatient.
Then another, brighter voice chimed in. “Tessa! I just landed! I’ve missed you so much, you have to come say hi!”
The names on the deed, printed in crisp, official lettering, blurred and merged with the voices in my ear. They owned my sight and my hearing. A sharp pain lanced through my eyes, making my vision swim.
After the call ended, a dozen more texts from Ethan came through, each one more demanding than the last.
Numbly, I put everything back in its place, smoothing over the chaos I’d created. I changed my clothes and walked out the door.
If they wanted to see me so badly, then I would go.

4
The private room was roaring with noise when I pushed the door open.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
A crowd of their friends was clapping and cheering. No one even noticed me.
Ethan chuckled, a look of fond exasperation on his face, and wrapped an arm around Sienna’s shoulders. He leaned in and gave her a deep, lingering kiss right on the lips.
Sienna played the part of the blushing recipient perfectly, and the room erupted.
I thought watching this would shatter me. I thought I’d be sick with jealousy, that I’d rush forward and tear them apart.
Instead, I found myself raising my phone, coolly framing the shot. I even took a moment to find the best angle, the one that captured the full, cloying intimacy of the moment.
Suddenly, Sienna’s head whipped around. Her eyes widened in panic as she saw me, and she shoved Ethan away.
“Tessa! You’re here! Don’t get the wrong idea, we were just playing a game. I lost a dare, so…”
“Ethan, hurry up and explain it to her!” she urged, tugging at his sleeve.
Ethan, a smear of red lipstick on his lips, looked at me, his expression flat. “Sienna lost a game. I was just helping her out.”
There it was again. Just helping her out. Helping her get a marriage license, helping her with a kiss. What was next? Helping her into bed? Helping her have a baby?
I forced a smile. “I get it. It’s fine.”
Ethan frowned, seemingly thrown off by my calm demeanor. Before he could say anything else, Sienna rushed over and grabbed my arm.
“Come on, sit! It’s been years, we have so much to catch up on.”
Whether it was intentional or not, she steered me into the seat directly between her and Ethan. Every time she asked me a question, she would lean across me to get Ethan’s opinion, and he would answer her patiently every time.
The looks on the faces of everyone else in the room were telling. I was an obstacle, a roadblock between the two of them. My very presence was an inconvenience.

5
“Sienna, you didn’t come back all of a sudden because you heard Ethan was getting married, did you? Here to crash the wedding?” someone finally asked, their tone laced with amusement.
Sienna’s sweet voice was playfully chiding. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing going on between me and Ethan!”
“Oh, come on,” another person chimed in. “Everyone knows you two are legally married. That social media post went viral in our circle!”
“Exactly! And we all know Ethan’s been in love with you forever. If you just said the word, no one else would even stand a chance. Right, Ethan?”
They were shameless, their words deliberately provocative. These were the people who had grown up rooting for them as a couple, who had never accepted me. I remembered the one and only time I’d attended a gathering with them as Ethan’s girlfriend. They’d asked me to my face what made me think I was good enough for him, how I had the nerve to even pursue him. I’d caused a huge scene that night, and Ethan had never taken me to one of their events again.
But this time, I felt nothing. I smiled along with everyone else and looked at Sienna.
“He’s just waiting for you to say yes,” I said, my voice even. “Give him the word, and you can be the bride in three days.”
Everyone stared at me like I had lost my mind. Even Sienna couldn’t hide the flash of surprise—and excitement—in her eyes.
But Ethan’s face darkened. “Tessa!” he snarled. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m not talking nonsense,” I said calmly, my expression deadly serious.
He shot up from the sofa, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me out of the room.
“Tessa, are you insane?”

6
Insane?
Maybe I was, once. But I was cured now.
Before I could answer, my phone rang. It was my grandfather. I shook Ethan’s hand off and answered.
“Tessa-girl, did you book your flight yet? What day are you coming home?”
“I got it, Grandpa. The day after tomorrow, in the evening.”
We chatted for another minute before I hung up.
Ethan’s sharp eyes were fixed on me. “What flight? Are you going somewhere?”
“No,” I lied smoothly. “Grandpa’s coming for the wedding. He was just asking if I’d booked his ticket.”
He accepted it without question, though his brow remained furrowed. “Just… don’t cause any more trouble tonight, okay? I’ll talk to my parents. I’ll try to get them to come to the wedding.”
His tone was that of a king bestowing a great favor. I felt none of the old excitement or gratitude I would have a week ago. All I felt was a hollow, bitter amusement.
My good behavior, my silence about him and Sienna, was the price for his parents’ attendance at our wedding.
The Hayes family came from a long line of academics. His parents were both professors; Ethan was a prestigious researcher. My family was in business. They’d always looked down on me, on my "new money" background. For years, I had showered them with gifts, spent more time with his parents than I had with my own. None of it mattered. In their eyes, I would never be one of them.
Now that I was finally giving up, they wouldn't have to pretend to appreciate my efforts anymore.
“Okay,” I said. “Well, I’m heading home. You guys have fun.”
“I’ll drive you.”
For some reason, he was suddenly patient with me. In the past, I’d have to beg for a ride days in advance, and even then, he’d likely forget.
He pulled up to the front of my building, got out, and opened my door, holding a hand over the frame so I wouldn’t hit my head.
I was silent the whole way, but as the car’s headlights cut through the darkness, a flicker of warmth sparked in my chest.
Maybe… maybe he did care about me, just a little. Even a tiny bit was something.
But then my phone buzzed with a new message. It was a screenshot of a social media post from a year ago.

7
Two profile pictures, side by side. On the exact same day that Ethan proposed to me, he and Sienna had both posted photos of their marriage certificate.
Sienna’s caption: “With you, my life is complete!”
Ethan’s caption: “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
The comments below were a flood of congratulations. I had never seen this post. In all our years together, Ethan had never once posted a single thing about me.
We had the same circle of friends. Did that mean while I was joyfully telling the world about our engagement, they were all seeing this?
I had been a clown, performing for an audience that was in on the joke.
The warmth in my chest turned to ice water. Sharp, painful, and cold.
At that exact moment, a bucket of actual ice water drenched me from head to toe. Someone screamed.
“She’s the homewrecker! Get her! Tear her apart!”
A storm of pain and confusion engulfed me. I was surrounded. Garbage, smelling sour and rotten, rained down on me from all directions. They were yelling, shouting about “teaching the mistress a lesson.”
I couldn’t fight back; I couldn’t even see where it was coming from. The world dissolved into a nightmare of snarling faces and grasping hands, demons dragging me down into hell.
“Stop!”
After what felt like a century, I finally heard Ethan’s voice.
The taut string in my mind snapped. Everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, I was staring at the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room. The shame of the attack washed over me again, and I gasped for breath, turning my head to look at Ethan. He was disheveled, his usual pristine appearance gone. His lips moved.
“I’m sorry.”
I didn’t know if he was apologizing because his fiancée had been mistaken for a mistress and beaten in the street, or because he’d let me live in the home he shared with another woman.
But the tears came anyway, hot and unstoppable, streaming from the corners of my eyes into my hair. Ethan tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming.

8
At first, he was composed, but soon he became flustered, his movements clumsy. “Please don’t cry, Tessa. Okay?” His voice was strained with a helpless frustration.
“I know this was unfair to you. I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”
I covered my eyes with my hand, my voice thick with congestion.
“Make it up to me? How?”
“We’ll make the wedding even bigger. A grander celebration. Would that be enough?”
The flood of tears stopped as if a faucet had been turned off. I almost laughed.
When I finally spoke, my voice was flat. “Ethan. Let’s cancel the wedding.”
“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” he snapped, his tone hardening.
In his mind, I was just throwing a tantrum.
“I’m being—”
Serious.
Before I could finish, his phone rang. It was a different ringtone than his usual one.
I couldn’t hear what was said, but his expression grew conflicted. He glanced at me.
“You guys watch her. I have something here. I can’t leave right now.”
He hung up and pressed his lips together.
“Stop overthinking things. Just get some rest. I’ll stay here with you.”
And he did. He answered three more calls, but he didn’t leave my room. He brought me water, adjusted my pillows, surprisingly attentive.
But my mind was a chaotic mess. I couldn’t appreciate this rare display of care.
I was just drifting off to sleep when my phone vibrated insistently on the nightstand.
A text from an unknown number.
“You think he’s staying because he’s worried about you? Because he cares? Take a look at this.”
Attached were several screenshots of a group chat.
The building’s homeowner chat. Someone had posted a photo of me, beaten and covered in garbage, with the words ‘HOMERWRECKER’ scrawled across it in red.
Someone else had tagged Sienna. “Your husband is cheating on you. This is the other woman.”

9
Sienna hadn’t replied with words. Just a single, perfect broken-heart emoji.
The chat exploded into a vicious tirade against me. I never knew words could inflict so much pain.
Finally, Ethan, apparently pricked by some last shred of conscience, had typed:
“She is not the other woman.”
But his weak defense only fueled the fire. The insults grew harsher, and they started planning to “teach me another lesson.”
Someone asked him directly: If I wasn’t the other woman, then what was Sienna?
The argument escalated until they cornered him, demanding to know who his real wife was: Sienna, or me.
The final screenshot was his answer. “The one whose name is on the deed, of course.”
A deep, shuddering cold seized me.
My entire body trembled.
No wonder he had been so insistent on driving me home. No wonder he’d stayed with me even after Sienna’s calls.
This entire nightmare… it all started with him.
Eleven years of devotion, and in return, he personally pointed the finger and branded me the mistress.
I thought I was past caring. I thought nothing he did could touch me anymore.
But in that moment, a fire ignited in my chest, a wild, consuming rage that wanted to burn everything to the ground.
Just then, Ethan walked back into the room. I stared at him, my eyes burning. “Ethan…”
“Tessa, Sienna has alcohol poisoning. She’s getting her stomach pumped. I have to go check on her. You be good and get some rest.”
“Ethan, don’t you dare leave.”
Maybe he didn’t notice the raw fury in my voice. Or maybe he just didn’t care.
He scowled, his voice dropping to an icy chill.
“What more do you want? I’ve been here with you for hours. Isn’t that enough? Sienna’s condition is serious. I don’t have time for your games.”
Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the room.
The door clicked shut, a final, definitive sound. It was the story of my life: always chasing after him, only to have him shut the door in my face, leaving me in the dark.
The fire in my chest was instantly extinguished, leaving behind only cold ash.
I let out a quiet, mirthless laugh, lay back down, and pulled the covers up to my chin.
Soon. It would all be over soon.

10
Ethan was gone. He didn’t come back the next day.
But I expected nothing, and the solitude was a relief.
A little while later, a message from Sienna popped up on my phone. “Want to make a bet on whether your wedding will actually happen?”
I smiled and typed back a quick reply. “No need to bet. The wedding will be a very lively affair.”
“Good. I can’t wait to watch the show.”
I turned off my phone and ignored her.
After getting the official discharge papers from the doctor, I went straight to the police station and filed a report. No matter what Ethan had said, those people had no right to attack me.
I didn’t go back to the apartment. I checked into a hotel.
By the time I boarded the flight home, I still hadn’t heard from Ethan again.
It was evening when the plane landed. The moment I turned my phone on, it rang. It was him.
“Tessa, you’re out of the hospital and back home, right?”
I wasn’t surprised he knew I’d been discharged. And I knew this wasn’t a call of concern. Based on how obsessed I’d always been with our wedding, he was absolutely certain that as long as I could walk, I would be at that altar on time.
He had no doubts about that.
I gave him a few vague answers and hung up.
Looking up, I saw my grandfather waiting for me. His hair was whiter than I remembered, his frame a little more stooped.
A lump formed in my throat. “Grandpa…”
“Hey now,” he said, his voice cheerful, but his eyes were misty. “No tears. I’m here to take you home. This is a happy day!”
When my parents died in the car crash, I was stuck overseas with Ethan. By the time we got back, they were already buried. I couldn’t forgive myself, but my grandfather never blamed me. He comforted me for months, encouraging me to go and find my own happiness.
Looking back now, I saw how unbelievably selfish I had been.
October 20th. An auspicious day for a wedding.
I had consulted with several experts to pick the perfect date. When I’d asked Ethan for his opinion, he’d just said, “Whatever you want.”
At the time, those words filled me with hope. I never would have dreamed that for our relationship, the wedding would be the end.
The night before the ceremony, I stayed up all night, cozy in my hotel bed, and binged three movies.
As dawn broke, I switched my phone to silent, found the most comfortable position I could, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Today’s wedding was destined to be Ethan’s one-man show.
I wondered what his face would look like when he realized I was gone.

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