My Fiancé Sent Me To Another Man On Our Wedding Day Chapter 01
The night before my wedding, I overheard Rafael talking to his best friend at the end of the hall.
“After you pick up Helena tomorrow, tell the driver to take her straight to the Hawthorne estate in Greenwich.”
“To the Hawthornes’ place?”
Rafael lowered his voice.
“The Bennetts are bankrupt. They owe the Hawthornes millions. Her parents are planning to send Margot to the Hawthornes to pay off the debt. I can’t just stand by and watch her life get ruined. The only way is to have Helena go in her place.”
His friend was silent for a few seconds.
“So, because you can’t stand to see Margot suffer, you’re sending Helena instead?”
“Old Mr. Hawthorne is ninety and bedridden. All he wants is a wedding in the family before he dies. Helena just has to go through the motions. In a year or two, once the old man is gone, I won’t care that she was married. I’ll still marry her.”
“You think Helena will agree to that?”
Rafael paused.
“I’ll have my mother put something in her orange juice tomorrow. By the time she wakes up, she’ll already be at the Hawthorne estate.”
“Once it’s a done deal, she won’t have a choice.”
I stood on the other side of the door and heard every word.
I didn’t push the door open.
I didn’t make a sound.
I just went back to my room and quietly waited for morning.
Later, when Rafael came looking for me, begging me to come back, I was already five months pregnant.
I looked at him and said, “Like you said. Once something is a done deal, there are no other options. Now you’re the one with no choice.”
…
The next morning, Rafael arrived with his groomsmen.
Margot Bennett came, too.
The second she saw me in my wedding dress, her eyes welled up.
“Helena, I’m so jealous. You get to marry the man you love. You’re so lucky.”
“Not that lucky. My parents are trying to marry me off to the ninety-year-old patriarch of the Hawthorne family to pay off their debt.”
At that, she dabbed at the corner of her eye, then glanced at Rafael.
“But it’s okay. Someone went with me to city hall this morning and took care of the paperwork. I’m legally married now. Even if that old man wants me, he can’t have me.”
I stood there, frozen.
I thought sending me in her place was cruel enough.
I never imagined Rafael would give her the legal marriage, too.
My bridesmaid, Chloe, had no idea what was happening.
She leaned in and whispered, “It’s your wedding. What is she doing here?”
“And crying, no less. Perfect timing.”
“It’s fine.” I patted her hand.
This was never my wedding to begin with.
Rafael was only pretending to pick me up. All he wanted was to trick me into the car and deliver me to another man.
A few of the bridesmaids were about to give him the traditional hard time, hiding my shoes and making him search for them.
But Rafael just frowned.
“Cut it out. We’re short on time. Find the shoes.”
His friends scanned the room and quickly spotted my wedding shoes.
Rafael took them, but he didn’t walk toward me.
He went straight to Margot.
“Helena, Margot twisted her ankle on the way here, and her heel broke.”
He knelt in front of her, expertly slipped off her stilettos, and put my wedding shoes on her feet.
“Her feet are delicate. She can’t wear shoes that are too stiff. Let her wear yours for now.”
Then he picked up a pair of white canvas sneakers from beside the door and set them in front of me.
“They’re just shoes.” He looked up at me, his tone placid. “You’re not going to make a scene about this, are you?”
Chloe lost it before I could.
“Rafael, those are her wedding shoes.”
“So what if they are?” He turned to Chloe. “They’re just shoes. What’s the difference?”
“Of course it makes a difference—”
“Let it go, Chloe.” I cut her off. “Let her have them.”
Margot was the boss’s daughter.
For the past two years, Rafael’s mantra had been, “She’s the boss’s daughter. Don’t cause trouble.”
I gave her my project proposal.
My cat died because of her.
The dresses and jewelry I loved ended up in her hands, one after another.
And now, he was giving her the groom who was supposed to be mine, too.
Rafael and I had been together for eight years.
In the end, all that was left was this carefully orchestrated betrayal.
Margot looked down at the shoes on her feet, unable to hide the triumph in her expression.
“Rafael, these fit perfectly. It’s like they were made for me.” She smiled. “Where did you buy them?”
He hadn’t bought them.
Rafael had made them for me by hand when he was twenty.
He had used soft thread, shaping the uppers himself, stitch by stitch. His fingers were pricked and bleeding by the end.
But he’d just smiled at me and said, “It doesn’t hurt, Helena. When we get married, you’ll wear these. No one else will have a pair. Only you.”
He had also said, “Helena, I’ll give you the very best of everything.”
Back then, Rafael had been so good to me.
But everything changed the day Margot appeared.
…
My mind was still reeling when Rafael bent down and slipped the canvas shoes onto my feet.
The material was stiff, rubbing uncomfortably against my skin.
A few bridesmaids, oblivious to the tension, started cheering.
“Kiss her!”
“Kiss the bride!”
Someone shoved Rafael toward me.
And in that exact instant, Margot swayed and fell straight into his arms.
The momentum pitched him forward.
Their lips met.
The room went dead silent.
Chloe’s expression turned thunderous.
“Margot Bennett, you did that on purpose.”
Margot immediately lowered her head.
“I’m sorry. I just… I lost my balance.”
Chloe let out a cold laugh.
“Of all the places to fall, you just happened to fall into the groom’s arms?”
“That’s enough,” Rafael snapped, steadying Margot. His face was grim. “Her ankle is sprained. Of course she’s unsteady.”
He turned his glare on Chloe.
“It’s not a big deal. Why are you overreacting?”
“This is not a small thing—”
Chloe started to argue, but I grabbed her arm.
For the past two years, Rafael had called too many things “not a big deal.”
Last year, when Margot stole the proposal I’d spent three months developing, he said it wasn’t a big deal.
Six months ago, when Margot crashed our anniversary dinner, he said it wasn’t a big deal.
Last month, when Margot killed my cat, he said it wasn’t a big deal.
Every single time, Rafael told me not to make a scene.
This time, I had no intention of making one.
While the air was still thick with tension, Rafael’s mother came in carrying a glass of orange juice.
“Helena, I’ve waited so long to see you get married.”
She held the glass out to me.
“Have a little something. You shouldn’t leave on an empty stomach.”
I stared at the orange juice, my heart sinking with each beat.
I’d lost my parents when I was young. The Romanos took me in and raised me.
All these years, I had believed they saw me as one of their own.
But now, the two of them stood before me, conspiring to send me into another man’s arms.
I knew what would happen if I drank it.
I took the glass anyway and slowly finished it.
Someone shouted from outside, “It’s time to go!”
Rafael came over, scooped me up, and carried me downstairs.
He used to carry me like this when I was little.
When I was twelve, my parents died in a car accident. I was inconsolable. I hid for three days, refusing to eat or drink.
Rafael was the one who found me and brought me home.
Back then, he held my hand and said, “Helena, from now on, my home is your home. My parents are your parents.”
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”
His arms were still as strong as I remembered.
But this man was no longer my protector.