From the very beginning, I knew this wedding would be my stage. Greg thought he had it all figured out—that he was the one in control. But little did he know, I was the one holding the detonator.
Our wedding looked like something out of a fairytale. The sun dipped low as Greg stood at the altar, smiling like the happiest man alive. To him, it was the start of our “perfect” life together. But to me, it was the end of a carefully constructed lie.
The reception unfolded beautifully—champagne flowing, laughter filling the air, his parents glowing with pride. And me? I played my part perfectly.
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I smiled. I danced with him. I leaned into his kisses as though everything was fine. But inside, I was waiting for the perfect moment to drop the truth that would shatter his world.
Later that night, when the guests had left and his parents retired to the guest rooms, Greg led me upstairs to the master suite his parents had gifted us. His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he shut the door.
He approached slowly, whispering, “I’ve been waiting for this all night.”
“So have I,” I said with a smile.
His hands carefully unzipped my dress. When it slipped to the floor, I turned around—watching his expression twist from desire to horror.
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Stretched across my torso was a temporary tattoo—realistic enough to look permanent. It was the face of Sarah, his ex-girlfriend. Underneath, in bold letters, were the exact words he had whispered to her the night before our wedding:
“One last taste of freedom before being stuck with the same body forever.”
Greg collapsed to his knees. “No… this can’t be happening…”
“How did you know?” he stammered.
I smirked. “Sarah couldn’t wait to tell me. She wanted me to suffer. Instead, I made sure you’ll never forget.”
Just then, footsteps echoed outside. The door swung open. Marianne and James, his parents, rushed in.
“What’s going on?” Marianne gasped.
Her eyes landed on the tattoo. She froze. James clenched his fists, his jaw twitching with rage.
“It’s simple,” I said. “Greg cheated on me. With his ex. The night before our wedding.”
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Silence thickened the air. Marianne’s face turned pale, tears brimming. James’s voice was low, deadly. “Gregory… is this true?”
Greg couldn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
I spoke instead. “He told Sarah he needed one last taste of freedom. That marrying me would trap him.”
Marianne broke down sobbing. James’s eyes burned holes through his son.
Greg finally whispered, “It was a mistake… I didn’t mean to—”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” I snapped. “It was a choice. And you chose to betray me.”
He crawled toward me, begging. “Please, Lilith… I love you. Don’t leave me.”
I laughed bitterly. “Love? Greg, if you knew what love was, you wouldn’t have been in her bed the night before our vows.”
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He wept. His parents looked at him with disgust. And I… I felt lighter than I had in months.
I slipped into a robe, covering the tattoo, and headed for the door.
“Lilith!” he screamed. “I’ll change! I’ll fix this!”
I didn’t even turn around. I was already done.
As I descended the stairs, James’s thunderous voice echoed behind me:
“This is what you did, Greg. You ruined everything.”
And then came Greg’s sobs—broken, pathetic, powerless.
But none of it touched me.
I walked away free.
Free of lies.
Free of betrayal.
Free of Greg.
