Right before I became a bride, my dad stormed into the church, shouting that my wedding was over. His shocking revelation about my fiancé left me reeling, but it taught me what love really means. The church glowed with soft light filtering through stained glass, my white gown sparkling as I sat in my wheelchair, grinning. My best friend, Emma, fixed my veil. “You’re gorgeous, Sophie.” I laughed, heart racing. “I’m actually getting married!” Born with a mobility condition, I’d always felt different, but today I was unstoppable. “Mark loves you just as you are,” Emma said. Mark and I met at a disability support group six months ago, bonding over shared struggles, and fell hard. “I never thought I’d find this,” I told Emma. “It’s your fairy tale,” she said. Mom knocked. “Ready, Sophie?” I nodded, thrilled.
Dad pushed me down the aisle, guests smiling as Mark beamed at the altar. He kissed my cheek. “You’re stunning.” The ceremony began, but Dad’s seat was empty. I ignored it, focusing on Mark. As the priest said, “Do you, Mark,” Dad burst in, yelling, “Stop! He’s a liar!” The crowd gasped. I froze. “What are you saying?” Dad pointed. “He’s faking his disability to trick women for money!” Mark stammered, “I love her!” Dad signaled a man with a cup. “This will show you,” he said, splashing water on Mark’s legs. Mark screamed and stood—his legs were fine. Shock hit me. “Just water,” Dad said. “He’s a fraud.” Tears stung. “Mark, how?” “I didn’t mean it,” he said. Police stormed in, cuffing him as Jonathan Hayes, a scammer. My heart broke.
At home, I sat in silence. Dad came in, eyes sad. “I saw him walk this morning, no wheelchair. He took money for a fake honeymoon. A detective confirmed he’s done this before.” I sobbed. “I was so dumb.” “No,” he said, hugging me. “We let you down. You’re not alone.” I whispered, “I just wanted love.” “You’ve got us,” he said. “Ice cream run?” I chuckled. “Sure.” Weeks later, I painted a fiery phoenix. Emma texted, “Okay?” I replied, “Getting there.” Mom suggested cooking together, like when I was little. We laughed, chopping veggies, the kitchen warm. My wedding day hurt, but it showed me love is in family and healing. I’m ready to start anew.
