The night before the wedding, I was too nervous to sleep. My brain wouldn’t shut off. I kept replaying the last few months in my head—how he proposed out of the blue, how he pushed for this rushed ceremony, how he insisted we didn’t need anything “big or fancy.”
At first, it all felt spontaneous and romantic. Like he just couldn’t wait to marry me. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt… off. Almost like he was rushing to meet a deadline.
So in the middle of the night, I did something I never thought I’d do. I opened his old laptop—the one he claimed was broken and “not worth fixing.” Out of pure curiosity, I pressed the power button. To my surprise, it turned on without a hitch.
That was the moment my entire world cracked.
I found emails. Hundreds of them. Between him and a woman named Emily. At first, I thought maybe she was an old friend or something work-related. But no—Emily wasn’t just an ex. She was still in his life. He had been seeing her the entire time we were together.
I scrolled with shaking hands, heart in my throat. Then I saw it. An email from just two weeks ago. It read: “Don’t worry, this wedding is just to shut everyone up. You’re the one I really want.”
I swear, I sat there staring at those words for what felt like hours. My chest physically hurt. I couldn’t breathe. All those little “red flags” I brushed off suddenly made sense. The rushed proposal. The secretive texts. The way he’d get defensive whenever I asked too many questions.
By the time the sun came up, I knew what I had to do.
The next morning, I didn’t put on the dress. I didn’t walk down the aisle. I didn’t even call anyone to explain. I just left the ring on the kitchen counter, grabbed my bag, and walked out the door.
Let him explain to his family and friends why the bride never showed up.
I may have lost a fiancé, but honestly? I feel like I dodged a bullet.