Sorry, My Groom Has Changed

I took a bullet for my fiancé. For five years, I was a ghost trapped in my own body.

The day I woke up, I saw him.

Pinning his secretary to my hospital bed.

"Dante, careful," she whimpered. "I'm pregnant."

His hand just tightened on her throat. "Pregnant?" he sneered. "Get rid of it."

"Only Elara will ever be the mother of my children."

"But she's a vegetable!" she choked out. "She'll never wake up!"

"So what?" he spat. "Even in a coma, she's the only one I want."

He swore he loved only me. While he was still buried deep inside another woman.

So, three days later, I stood at the altar.

And gave my vows to his mortal enemy.

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1

Dante and Isabella fucked in my hospital room for what felt like an eternity. When they finally finished, they collapsed onto the sofa, panting.

Every grunt and gasp was a needle plunging into my heart, a sharp, searing pain that spread with every beat.

I stared numbly at the ceiling, hot tears slipping from the corners of my eyes to soak my collar.

I never imagined the man I'd risked my life for would do this to me. In my own hospital room.

"Dante, look, Elara... her hand moved!"

Isabella's gaze landed on my tightly clenched fist, and she shook Dante's arm in terror.

The color drained from Dante's face. He snapped his head toward me, and the moment his gaze caught the wet tracks of my tears, he scrambled forward in a panic.

"Elara?! Elara, you're awake! You're finally awake!"

The next second, he froze. His body was a roadmap of Isabella's scratches and lipstick stains. He frantically yanked the bedsheet over himself, babbling incoherently.

"Elara, it's not what you think. I can explain..."

"Who are you? Where am I?"

I cut him off, my voice a hollow whisper. I let my gaze drift aimlessly around the room, faking a blind, vacant stare.

I saw the tension drain from his shoulders the instant he bought my act. He stepped closer, taking my hand, his voice softening to a caress.

"Elara, it's me, your Dante. You're finally awake. I'm so happy. I thought I'd never hear your voice again."

The first second I woke up, he was all I could think about. I’d pictured him ecstatic, ready to finally make good on his promise to marry me.

Even when I saw him with Isabella, my mind had stubbornly insisted it was a hallucination.

My heart seized in my chest, the pain stealing my breath.

Pretending I couldn't see was the only way to find out how long he planned to keep up this disgusting charade.

Amid his frantic relief, Dante didn't forget to test me. He waved a hand in front of my face.

"Elara, you really... can't see me?"

I suppressed the hurricane churning inside me and slowly shook my head.

Dante let out a sigh of pure relief. He pulled a velvet box from his coat pocket and flipped it open, revealing a diamond ring.

I recognized it. "The Tear of Sicily." He'd had it custom-made five years ago. It was the Moretti family heirloom ring. He was going to propose on the very day of the attack.

He pulled out the ring, his eyes burning with an intense, unwavering affection that made my stomach churn.

"Elara, the assassination attempt five years ago… it interrupted my proposal. Now that you're back, I want to ask you again. Elara, I love you. Marry me."

His tone was so sincere, the love in his eyes so overwhelming, as if he truly meant to grow old with me.

Who would believe that just minutes ago, this same man had been buried deep inside another woman?

The image of them together, just minutes ago, sent a wave of bile rising in my throat.

Seeing my silence, Dante took it as tacit agreement. He took my hand, ready to slip the ring on my finger.

At the sight of this, Isabella's face contorted with rage. She angrily hurled something in our direction. It landed right on my blanket.

My eyes fixed on it. A condom. Used.