One day, I attended the wedding of a highly affluent woman, acting as the event manager. I had been closely involved with the wedding planning from the beginning. But when I saw the groom for the first time, I was stunned—standing there was John!
My name is Amanda, 28, and I work as a private event and celebration organizer. Today’s occasion was the most elaborate wedding I had ever coordinated, hosted for Catherine, a 38-year-old heiress of a fashion empire who spared no expense for her big day. To organize Catherine’s wedding, I took a two-hour flight, eager to bring her dream ceremony to life.
Both she and I wanted everything to be flawless, but neither of us could have foreseen the shocking twist the evening would take. Catherine was marrying Arnold, a young, wealthy businessman. Despite numerous planning sessions, I had never met him.
“My fiancé trusts my vision and prefers to focus on his business,” Catherine would explain. It was peculiar that he never participated, not even to review the music or menu. When I once asked, “Wouldn’t he want input on the band or wine?” Catherine merely chuckled and assured me he was content with her choices.
As Catherine’s confidence remained unshaken, my curiosity about the mysterious groom only grew as the wedding day approached. Little did I know that the biggest surprise was waiting for me, one that would paralyze me with disbelief. On the wedding day, the venue buzzed with activity from early morning.
I directed every detail, from placing ivory tablecloths and golden centerpieces to arranging crystal glassware and fine china. “Stack the plates carefully by size over there and ensure the glasses match the caterer’s inventory,” I instructed the loaders. As the banquet hall filled, gentle music and quiet conversations blended into a refined atmosphere.
Then, the announcer’s voice boomed, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the groom, Arnold!”
I waited to catch a glimpse of the elusive groom, the man who had been absent from all preparations. A sleek black limousine rolled up, and the door opened. Out stepped John, impeccably dressed in a tuxedo—my John, who had vanished six months prior, leaving me heartbroken and drowning in debt.
A shiver ran down my spine, and I was frozen in shock. His gaze met mine briefly, without any hint of recognition, just a detached indifference. The room spun around me as I struggled to process the scene.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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