Frantically, I pulled out my own marriage certificate from my bag.
James snatched it from me, holding it up for everyone to see. “Look at this! It’s obviously fake. The photo’s been edited. People will go to any lengths these days, huh?”
Suddenly, it hit me. I remembered the day we supposedly got married. Right after the ceremony, I’d gotten a call that my mom had been rushed to the hospital.
I left in such a panic that I didn’t even look closely at the certificate he gave me later.
I turned to James, my voice trembling with anger. “Does your mother know about all of this?”
He didn’t respond directly, just said, “My mom’s fine now. Stop using her as an excuse to try to control me.”
It all started to make sense.
He and his mom were in on this together. Of course.
Fine. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Alright, if that’s the case, then we’re done. Just give me back the money I paid for the house.”
The bride rushed forward, furious. “Why should he give you anything? The house has already been transferred. It’s in our names now.”
She glared at me. “Looks like you’re the one who needs to leave.”
The crowd started whispering, casting judgmental looks my way.
I stood there, feeling like a complete fool, utterly alone.
I looked at the smug faces of James and his bride, and despite everything, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
“James,” I said, “I never realized you were such a good actor. You should’ve gone into drama.”
“I spent two years abroad taking care of your mother, and now, suddenly, our marriage was fake, and the house belongs to someone else?”
Suddenly, James' father burst out of the room, yelling at me, "Enough, Natalie! Haven't you done enough?"
His face was red with anger, like I was the one who had done something unforgivable.
He stormed over, slamming his hand on the table. “If it wasn’t for thinking of you, James would’ve never been tricked by you!”
I stared at him, stunned. “My mom paid for half of this house. Why shouldn’t I ask for what’s ours?”
He pointed straight at the door. “That’s what you owe my son. You gave it willingly. Now get out. This place has nothing to do with you anymore.”
He was throwing me out without a second thought.
“Nothing to do with me?” I shot back.
“Who was it that begged me to marry him on his knees? Who cried and swore they needed my help? Who promised that once we were married, I’d have the final say in this house?”