Three months ago, I met Ethan at a coffee shop. We both reached for the same book and laughed. From that moment, everything was a whirlwind — dinners under the stars, surprise weekend trips, and late-night chats. I fell for him so fast.
When Ethan proposed to me at the same spot where we met, I said yes without a second thought. We quickly set a date for a small, intimate wedding. The days flew by, and soon it was the night of our pre-wedding party.
Halfway through the evening, Ethan’s sister Olivia pulled me aside. “So, how does it feel to be part of our crazy family?” she asked, eyes twinkling.
“It feels amazing,” I said, smiling. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have met Ethan.”
Olivia laughed, but her expression shifted slightly. “Lucky indeed. You know, I still can’t believe you two managed to pull this off. You two deserve an Oscar for this performance,” she said, sipping her drink.
My heart SANK. “What do you mean?”
Olivia’s eyes broadened as she realized her mistake. “Wait, you didn’t know?” she stammered, face paling. “I thought… I thought you were in on it.”
I felt a cold wave of shock. “In on WHAT?”
Olivia hesitated, then sighed, as if debating whether to say more. “Ethan’s… well, Ethan’s not exactly who he says he is,” she began nervously. “He owes a lot of money. To some serious people. They’ve been after him, threatening him. Marrying you was his way of getting access to… your family’s wealth.”
I stared at her, unable to comprehend her words. “My family’s wealth? Olivia, my family isn’t rich!”
Her face turned even paler. “What?” she whispered. “But Ethan said…” She trailed off, realization dawning on her face.
The pieces started falling into place: the whirlwind romance, the extravagant dates, the rushed proposal. Ethan hadn’t fallen for me. He’d fallen for a version of me he thought came with a fortune.
I excused myself and walked to the patio, needing fresh air. The noise of the party faded as I tried to process what I’d just learned. Moments later, Ethan joined me, his smile faltering when he saw my expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etched across his face.
I took a deep breath, looking him straight in the eyes. “Olivia told me everything, Ethan. About the money. About why you proposed.”
For a moment, he froze. Then, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s true,” he admitted. “At first, it was about the money. But it’s not anymore. I swear. I fell in love with you, for *you.* I just… I didn’t know how to tell you the truth.”
Tears stung my eyes. “You lied to me, Ethan. You used me.”
“I made a mistake,” he pleaded. “But the way I feel about you is real.”
I shook my head, heartbroken. “Maybe it is. But I can’t build a life on lies.”
The next day, instead of walking down the aisle, I packed my things and left. It hurt, more than I could put into words, but I knew I deserved better — someone who loved me for who I was, not for who they thought I might be.
Weeks turned into months, and though moving on was hard, I found strength in knowing I had chosen myself. And while Ethan’s chapter in my life ended painfully, it taught me an invaluable lesson: love should never come with strings attached.
