Standing at the altar, watching Claire float toward me in her wedding dress, I felt like I was living a dream. Her eyes sparkled with love, her smile radiant, and my heart pounded with happiness. We’d met a year ago at our ad agency, where she worked on my team. Claire was brilliant, kind, and made every day feel special. I’d told my cousin, Tom, she was like a melody in a world of noise. He’d warned me about her past—her divorce from her ex, Derek, was bitter—but I didn’t care. Our love was all that mattered. As Claire took my hand, I was ready to promise forever. Then the chapel doors slammed open.
Derek stood there, his face cold and determined. I’d met him once, a stiff handshake at work, but now his voice boomed. “Sorry, but this wedding’s done in five minutes.” The guests gasped, and Claire’s hand trembled in mine. Anger surged as I stepped forward. “Get out, Derek,” I said, my voice low. He didn’t move. “You need to know, Ben. Claire’s pregnant.” My heart stopped. Pregnant? I looked at Claire, waiting for her to laugh it off, but her face was pale, her eyes wide. Then Derek’s words hit harder. “It’s my baby.” The room tilted, and I glared at him. “You’re lying,” I said, but doubt gnawed at me.
Claire’s voice was barely audible. “Ben, please, let me talk.” Derek laughed, sharp and cruel. “Talk about what? How you’ve been with me for months?” Whispers spread through the crowd, and my chest tightened. Months? Half our time together? Derek’s voice grew harsh. “She’s using you, Ben—your money, your stability. Not your heart.” I turned to Claire, desperate for her to deny it, but she stood frozen, shaking. Then her legs gave out, and she collapsed. The room erupted, guests shouting for an ambulance. I knelt beside her, holding her cold body, my mind reeling with betrayal but focused on her safety.
In the hospital, the beeping monitors and antiseptic smell felt suffocating. Claire lay still, an IV in her arm, looking fragile under the dim lights. The doctor said her collapse was from stress and pregnancy, her body shutting down to cope. She’d recover with rest, but the baby needed care. I sat by her bed, torn between anger and worry, wondering if I’d caused this or if it was her lies. When she woke, her eyes met mine, filled with tears. “Ben, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. My voice was rough. “You let me plan our life while you were with him.” She looked away, clutching the blanket. “I wanted to be yours,” she said. “I thought I could move on.”
Her words cut deep. She’d wanted a secure life with me, but Derek still held her heart. I was furious, yet her pain tugged at me. “We’re doing a paternity test,” I said. She nodded quietly. Two weeks later, the results confirmed Derek was the father. I sat in my apartment, staring at the paper, the betrayal sinking in. Claire’s messages went unanswered. At Tom’s place, I told him and my aunt everything. “Would you have stayed if it was yours?” Tom asked. “No,” I said. “I can’t trust her.” My aunt promised I’d heal.
Work became my escape, and I avoided Claire’s weary glances at the office. One evening, Derek approached me outside. “She cared about you,” he said. “It just wasn’t enough.” I nodded, letting him go. The hurt was raw, but I was ready to let go of the past. Love had shattered me, but I’d rebuild, stronger than before.
