My fiancé and I had been together for over four years and were planning to get married. The wedding was just three months away, and we had already started the preparations.
But then, something really bizarre happened.
One day, I came home from work, opened the door, and my eyes widened in shock. There were suitcases on the doorstep—and they were filled with MY STUFF.
“Is this some kind of joke?” I whispered, my heart racing.
I tried calling my fiancé, but he wasn’t picking up. My hands trembled as I dialed again and again. Straight to voicemail.
Suddenly, I heard a noise from upstairs. A door creaking. My chest tightened as I rushed up, praying it was him.
But when I pushed open the bedroom door, I froze.
There she was. MY FIANCÉ’S MOM. Sitting on the bed like she owned the place, her arms crossed and her face twisted with satisfaction.
“WHAT’S GOING ON?!” I shouted, my voice breaking.
She looked me dead in the eye. “I’m saving my son from a terrible mistake.”
My stomach flipped. “Excuse me? Where’s Andrew? Why are my things outside?”
“You won’t be marrying him,” she said coldly. “I told him the truth about you. About what you really are.”
“What I really am?” I gasped. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Her lips curled into a cruel smile. “You think I don’t know? You think I’d let my only son throw his life away on some… gold digger?”
The word sliced through me. I worked two jobs, helped Andrew save for our wedding, and never once asked for anything.
“Andrew doesn’t believe that,” I said, my voice shaking.
Her smirk widened. “Oh, he does now. And by the time I’m done, you’ll be nothing more than a bad memory.”
And then—I heard the front door slam. Andrew was home.
At that moment, I realized everything was about to unravel… and the truth, whichever way it went, would decide whether I walked down the aisle—or walked away forever.