My two closest friends, Mia and Clara, stood as witnesses. Clara whispered, “Are you sure?” at least three times, but I smiled through it. Mia just kept snapping photos.
I immediately posted the image Mia took right after the ceremony to Instagram, but with no caption. Just me in the white dress I planned to marry Jonathan in, with a man no one recognized.
I thought that was the end of it. A stunt, a moment of pettiness at my ex, with good lighting. I thought it would fizzle out in a week.
But I went to bed with a strange feeling in my chest, half exhilaration, half regret.
The next morning, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Adam standing there, holding two coffees and a photo.
“Morning,” he said. “Thought you should see this.”
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He handed me the picture. It was glossy, clearly old, taken on a yacht the size of a small island. Adam stood beside a man I immediately recognized, one of the richest businessmen in the country. Gregory is the CEO of a global logistics empire.
Adam looked younger, his hair longer, but it was unmistakably him.
My mouth went dry, and my stomach flipped so hard I nearly dropped the cup. “What does this mean?” I demanded, my voice shaking.
