Three weeks before walking down the aisle, my world collapsed. My fiancé Jared confessed he was going on a trip—not with his groomsmen, but with Miranda, his ex. “It’s just closure,” he insisted.
I was devastated, but not defeated. That’s when I called Liam, my college sweetheart who’d never stopped checking in on me over the years. “Let’s ruin his trip,” he said.
So we did. On Jared’s departure day, Liam and I arrived at the airport, hand in hand, pretending to be the happy couple Jared had failed to be. The shock on his face was almost worth the heartache.
But then Liam surprised me. “We’re really doing this,” he said, waving two tickets to Costa Rica. That week away was a revelation—long talks under the stars, adventures that reminded me what real chemistry felt like.
When we returned, I ended things with Jared for good.
Now, Liam and I are married, living the life I thought I wanted with Jared—only better. Because this time, there are no secret trips, no exes in the shadows. Just us.
