“No, this can’t be happening!” Greg’s anticipation turned to horror when I revealed the tattoo of his ex beneath my wedding dress. All day, I’d been playing my part—smiling, laughing, dancing like everything was perfect. But I knew the truth.
After our reception, Greg eagerly led me to the master suite, ready for our wedding night. But when I took off my dress, his excitement turned to shock. The tattoo of Sarah, his ex, stretched across my torso, a cruel reminder of his betrayal.
“No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” he sobbed. His parents, Marianne and James, barged in, stunned.
I calmly explained, “Greg cheated on me the night before our wedding.”
Greg, unable to answer, collapsed in tears. His father, full of rage, confronted him, while I made it clear: I was done.
As I left, Greg begged, but I wasn’t swayed. I was free from him, from the lies, from the betrayal.
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