After Forgetting Me, He Regretted Seeing Me Marry Someone ElseChapter 1
Theron Carter and I had been together for six years.
But just three days before our wedding, he publicly declared his reunion with his first love.
Without a second thought, I calmly turned around and found a college guy to take his place to marry me.
Right there and then, I stood calm and composed, watching as he carried on like nothing was amiss.
On our wedding day, I boldly moved and swapped out the groom, leaving Theron stunned and speechless.
…
By the time my phone buzzed, the clock had already struck ten. It was the wedding planner again, nudging me to finalize the dress selection.
I opened the chat and noticed the message I had sent Theron that morning asking for his opinions, which were still unanswered.
When I tried calling him, the line was dead, and his phone was completely off.
Later, I found out he’d been wrapped up in the bachelor party his friends threw for him, so I brushed it off without a second thought.
As I casually scrolled through my feed, I spotted a new post from him, made only ten minutes earlier.
In the post, there she was, Lyra Adamson, his first love, with her elegance and allure even more captivating than they were six years ago.
They had drawn half a heart on each of their cheeks with lipstick, and together, their faces completed a perfect heart, a picture-perfect romance straight out of a fairy tale. The caption read, [We are still us.]
That was Theron’s first public post in six years. At that moment, my heart raced, and time seemed to stand still.
Suddenly, it all unveiled the truth; no wonder my messages pleading for answers had been left in the dark.
Through thick and thin, Theron and I endured all our challenges back then. We shared countless tender moments, yet he never posted a photo of us or let our relationship shine in the public eye.
No matter how much I cried my heart out and pleaded, he would brush it off with, “Come on, love, we see each other every day. There’s no need for all that.”
Only now did it hit me: it wasn’t about the need. To him, I had always been nothing more than a shadow, unimportant and easily overlooked.
For six years, I’d wrapped myself in excuses for his coldness, holding on to my stubborn faith. Now, it all seemed like a cruel joke.