When My Groom Married My Dying Best Friend

Charlotte Richardson slipped into the wedding dress I had personally chosen. The silver satin, dazzling under the brilliant lights, looked out of place on her, as if she were a performer in the wrong role.

“The dress is already made, so let Charlotte wear it. You’re still you, and at our real wedding, you’ll look stunning in this dress,” Ricardo Garza said, pretending to be sincere.

I watched coldly, thinking how tainted the gown seemed now.

“Valerie, you will give us your blessing, won’t you?” Charlotte, like a peacock basking in victory, lifted her chin arrogantly.

“Of course, I’ll give you my blessing,” I said, raising a glass of champagne and pouring it over her head.

“Ah! My dress!” she screamed, drawing the attention of the entire banquet hall.

“Valerie Davis,” she seethed, her rage stripping away her façade.

She glared at me, her arrogance laid bare.

“You just want my blessing, don’t you? Well, good luck with that.”

I picked up another glass of champagne and poured it at her feet, the bubbly liquid splashing her elegant shoes. What a pitiful sight.

Even things I throw away, I don’t want others to have.

“You…” Charlotte raised her hand, but I quickly grabbed her wrist.

“Oh, my dear Ricardo, your fiancée has quite the grip. She hardly seems delicate, does she?”

Charlotte shot Ricardo a look. Gone was the murderous glare; she instantly switched to a pitiable expression, tears welling up to feign vulnerability.

“Valerie, I know you’re upset I took what was yours. I’ll take it off and give it back to you,” she said.

“Go ahead, take it off then, right now.” Charlotte looked at Ricardo, clearly conflicted.

“Valerie, stop making a scene. I’ve already been more than generous. Don’t act crazy here,” Ricardo said, his patience running thin.

“I wanted you to stay so we could take pictures together and have memories from this engagement. Don’t later claim you weren’t given a place here.”

Even though my heart had already shattered, it still ached.

“I don’t need it,” I replied. “I’m sickened by all this.” I took a deep breath.

“Ricardo, I’ve already told you, we’re finished.”

“Finished? Valerie Davis, do you think your life will be easy without me? Your money-grubbing parents have already accepted my dowry for your brother’s car and house. If we break up, you’ll have to return every cent of those hundreds of thousands.”

“Do you have the money?” He looked at me, sure of his advantage.

No wonder my parents were so subservient to his mother, not caring if he married me or not. They had sold me off already. No wonder Yara Taylor always called me a gold-digger, looking down on me more and more.

“Valerie, I’ve given you a way out. Let’s pretend you didn’t say those things just now, and we’ll go back to how we used to be.”

I felt nothing but revulsion.

“I’ll say it one last time. We’re finished.”

Ricardo’s face hardened, his gaze locked on me, but then his voice softened.

“Valerie, stop this. Do you think anyone else will want you after me? We’ve been together for eight years.”

“Finished.”

“Fine, if you want to break up, either graciously wait to marry me, or return every cent of the dowry.”

He was confident I couldn’t come up with the enormous sum, standing there smugly, making my skin crawl.