I believed my wedding day would be flawless, with my flowing dress and my fiancé, Tyler, waiting for me. But when the priest said, “I can’t let this marriage go forward,” and walked out, my dream collapsed. Running after him, I learned a painful truth that freed me from a lie.
Foster care taught me to guard my heart, not dream of weddings. When Tyler proposed after ten months, I let myself hope for love. “You’re breathtaking, Sarah,” said my maid of honor, Jenna, fixing my veil in the church’s small room. At 26, a schoolteacher who’d crafted centerpieces with my students, I felt like a princess, despite my simple gown.
“Will Tyler like it?” I asked, unsure. Jenna grinned. “He’ll be stunned.” Tyler always made me feel cherished, even in my messiest moments. He was vibrant, loving car races, while I enjoyed quiet nights sketching. His love was a lifeline after years of feeling invisible. Jenna teased, “He’s like a movie star!” I laughed. “He’s wild, but he loves me.”
Father Thomas, who’d known me since I was a teen, knocked. “Time, Sarah.” His eyes seemed heavy. “Everything okay?” I asked. “Just jitters,” he said, leaving. Jenna noted, “That was weird.” I blamed Tyler’s late party. My mentor, Mr. Reed, walked me down the aisle, past smiling friends and students. Tyler’s grin in his tight tux melted my fears.
Father Thomas began, but his gaze was uneasy. My vows shook with emotion; Tyler’s were confident. “Do you, Sarah, take Tyler?” Father Thomas asked. “I do,” I said, teary. He faced Tyler, tense. “And you, Tyler?” Tyler said, “I do.” Then, Father Thomas shut his book. “I’m sorry. This can’t happen.” He left the altar, gasps rising. Tyler snapped, “What’s this?”
I followed Father Thomas outside, my dress dragging. “Why?” I begged. His face was heavy. “Sarah, you’re special to me. You deserve honesty. I saw Tyler with Jenna before the ceremony, too close. A camera caught it.” My world spun. “No, you’re wrong,” I said. Tyler approached, angry. “This is lies!” Father Thomas stood firm. “I saw you with Jenna.” I mentioned the footage. Tyler softened. “Sarah, I’d never hurt you.” But I needed truth.
“Let’s see it,” I said. Jenna appeared, her dress like mine. “What’s happening?” Their glance confirmed my fears. The video in Father Thomas’s office showed Tyler and Jenna kissing, a familiar act. “It was nothing,” Tyler pleaded. “How long?” I demanded. Jenna whispered, “Five months.” Five months of deceit. “We’re done,” I said, leaving my ring. Tyler argued, “It wasn’t love!” I faced Jenna. “You betrayed me.” They left, defeated.
At the altar, I spoke. “No wedding today, but stay for food and music. I need my friends.” Murmurs spread, but I smiled. “Let’s celebrate my freedom.” A colleague whispered, “You’re brave.” At the reception, I sat with Father Thomas. “You saved me,” I said. He nodded. “Truth is love.” I felt lighter. “It hurts, but I’m okay,” I said. He toasted, “To strength.” Surrounded by love, I knew I was never alone.
