He Left Me at the Altar, Now He Begs

The more lavish the wedding had been, the more envied—the more wretched I was now, and the louder they laughed.

I stood there white-faced, fingers crushing the fabric of my skirt, while the voices around me sharpened into something vicious, each one crueler than the last, until I'd become the most despicable woman in Harbor City.

My parents called too, screaming at me. Told me I'd dragged their name through the dirt, told me to end this now.

I fled home through the laughter.

When I pushed open the door, he was fresh from the act, Rachel Summers draped in his arms. His voice was flat.

“Oh. I forgot we were getting married today. I'll make it up to you next time.”

Later it was Rachel who came to twist the knife, to make sure I knew.

“Sis, all I did was slip out of my clothes. He wouldn't even put on the groom's suit—how is that my fault?”

“Could you……take off your mask for a moment?”

Clark's voice, slightly hesitant, cut through the memory.

I looked up at him. My gaze was flat. I didn't move.

Rachel threw herself between us, sobbing.

“Clark, Vera is gone!”

“She doesn't want you anymore! Why won't you even look at me?!”

“You think dropping me year after year to chase her is going to make her forgive the nightmare of you not showing up?! Dream on!”

The words landed somewhere deep. Clark went still, and something dark and grieved passed across his face.

A long time passed before he stood.

He raised his hand and slapped Rachel across the face.

He didn't spare a glance at her sprawled on the floor, clutching her cheek in disbelief.

He turned to me and said evenly:

“Let's continue where we left off. I'd like to retain you to draft an asset transfer agreement for a woman named Vera Fernandez.”

I spoke, not hiding my irritation.

“An asset transfer agreement requires the recipient to be present. Without her, the document is void.”

“By your own account, you can't even find the recipient. How am I supposed to draft this?”

“Mr. Sanchez, I think you should go.”

Rachel scrambled to her feet and threw her arms around Clark's leg.

“Clark, if hitting me makes you feel better, then hit me! Just don't give her everything!”

“I'm carrying your child! Our baby needs money too!”

“She doesn't need it! For all you know, she's left you and married someone better!”

That last line struck something in me. Without thinking, my thumb traced the wedding band on my ring finger.

Rachel was right about that much. The thought of the man whose smile always carried that quiet warmth sent a small wave of comfort through my chest.

I had to admit it. After leaving Clark, I'd married well.

But Clark clearly couldn't stomach even the possibility.

He slammed the table, hard.

“Shut up! I'll set aside the child's share for you.”

“But Vera—she was mine for ten years. Everyone in Harbor City knows she was my woman. No one would dare want her!”

“I owe her. I need to give her a reason to come back to me.”

“The moment I hand her that asset transfer agreement and tell her I'm willing to sign over everything, she'll come back. I know she will!”

He said it with absolute certainty.

Never knowing that I was sitting right across from him, listening to every word.

Feeling nothing.

But what happened next, I didn't expect.

Rachel stood frozen, watching Clark with a dark, shifting expression for a long time.

Then she broke.

“Her, her, her! It's always her!”

“I keep telling you she's never coming back, and you spend every waking minute looking for her, seeing her in every woman's face!”

“Open your eyes and look! Is she Vera Fernandez?!”

Rachel lunged at me and ripped the mask off my face.