ns about money.

“Finances stress me out, babe. Let’s just focus on us. Yeah?”

Or what about that time he convinced me to put the wedding deposits on my card?

“I’ll pay you back, I swear, babe.

You have better credit than me and all that stuff.”

And what about how weirdly quiet he got when I mentioned wanting to open a joint account after the wedding?

“We can cross that bridge when we get there,” he had said. “Let’s make it to our honeymoon first.”

There were also the few times I caught him watching me, almost like he was studying me.

I had called it love. I had called it adoration.

I had told myself that Patrick was just a live in the moment kind of guy. That he wasn’t avoiding the future, just that he loved and trusted me enough to handle it.

But now?

My goodness. Now, I knew the truth.

This man had never planned a future with me at all.

I forced myself to look at him while taking deep breaths to curb the nausea.

“You scammed her?

You scammed a woman that you claimed to love? Did you help plan an entire wedding just to steal her money?”

Tears streaked down Patrick’s face, but instead of making me feel sympathetic, he just looked like a loser.

“Amanda, I panicked. I was young!

I was stupid and reckless, and I thought that a meaningful life meant having a lot of money.”

My mother cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“And guess who tracked him down? Noelle.”

Oh God, what now? I thought.

She reached into her handbag on the coffee table and pulled out a letter.

“Patrick’s ex-fiancée contacted me three months ago,” she said.

“She thought that the truth rather come from me than a stranger on the internet. She found me on Facebook. This is a copy of our conversation.”

A sharp, bitter laugh clawed its way up my throat.

For a moment, I thought of the three hyenas from The Lion King and wanted to laugh again.

Get a grip, Amanda, I thought to myself.

“Three months ago, Mom? And you didn’t tell me?! You just helped me pick out my wedding dress and sort out the menu?

And the entire time, you didn’t tell me?”

My mother’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she looked guilty. But just for a moment. She regained her composure quickly and took command of the room again.

“I needed proof first, Amanda,” she said.

“I wasn’t going to blow up your life without it. Obviously.”

My hands trembled.

“And now?”

“Now,” she met my gaze, “now, I have proof.”

Patrick looked at me, frantic.

“Amanda, I love you! I would never!

Noelle just told your mother lies! She told her what Diane wanted to hear. Your mother has never liked me.

You know that!”

“What was the one condition you mentioned, Mom?” I asked.

She smirked.

“That he leaves. Tonight. No wedding, no explanations, just a groom who vanished into thin air.”

Patrick looked at me again.

“If you’ve ever believed in me, Amanda, don’t do this.

We can fix this!”

I held up a hand.

“Get out.”

He froze.

“But—”

“Get out now!” I shouted.

And for the first time since I met him, Patrick listened.

Three days after I called off the wedding, I stood in my bedroom, staring at the ivory lace gown hanging on the closet door.

It was supposed to be the dress. The one I walked down the aisle in. The one Patrick would have looked at me in with those soft, deceitful eyes.

The one I would have worn while unknowingly walking straight into ruin.

I stepped closer, running my fingers over the fabric. And then I noticed it.

I frowned, pulling at it. I hadn’t noticed the tag before because the bridal shop had told me everything had been paid in full.

Patrick had insisted on covering it.

“It’s my gift to you, babe.”

But the tag told another story.

Payment Outstanding: $3,200.

My throat tightened.

He never paid for it. Not fully. He never intended to.

My stomach turned as the truth fully sank in.

Patrick had let me believe that the wedding was ours, when really, it was just another one of his investments. A setup. A scam.

If I hadn’t found out, I would have woken up on my wedding day believing in forever with him, while Patrick had already planned his escape.

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

Imagine if I had gotten stuck in his web?

Two weeks later, I sat across from a woman I had never met before but who knew exactly how I felt.

Noelle. Patrick’s ex-fiancée.

We clinked glasses of whiskey in a dimly lit bar, the weight of what we had both survived sitting between us like an invisible thread.

“Did he tell you that he wanted three kids?” I asked.

She let out a dry laugh.

“Of course, he did! And that he wanted to name the oldest one after his dad.”

“He told me that his dad died when he was six.”

She shook her head.

“Nope.

Fred is alive and well. I went searching for his parents after he took all my savings.”

We both went quiet.

“You know, I used to think I was stupid for falling for it. But the entire act was just so… believable.”

“Me too,” I said quietly.

“But you know what?”

She met my eyes.

“We’re not stupid, Amanda.

We are just good people who believed in love. And Patrick used that against us.”

For the first time in a long time, my shoulders relaxed.

“To us. And to making sure that he never does this again.”

I lifted my glass, and she clinked hers against mine again.

“And to karma,” she smirked.

Source: amomama