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The Bride Was Not Me Novel Cover

The Bride Was Not Me

After five years together and two years of marriage, a dedicated wedding planner is shocked to receive a new client request. The bride-to-be is a hopeful young woman who reveals her groom is Victor Langford—the narrator's own husband. Tasked with organizing their ceremony at her dream venue in Clairmont, she realizes Victor is giving his mistress of two months the lavish wedding he always denied his wife. Now, she must plan the event where the bride is not her.
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Chapter 3

The Wedding I Was Never Meant to Attend

I never imagined he could be so cruel to his own son.

In the video, Victor forced the child's limbs apart while Anna calmly drove needles into his small body.

My son's cries grew weaker and weaker, and my heart hurt so badly it felt like I couldn't breathe. I wanted to smash through the screen and kill that vile man and woman with my own hands.

Then, in the very next second, my phone rang.

I answered, and Anna's shy, sugary voice came through the line. "Ms. Shaw, the wedding may need to be moved up. My future mother-in-law had the date specially chosen for us. We'll get married in three days. It's the perfect timing. It'll help us conceive a child in one go."

Almost at the same time, Victor sent me a message.

'Honey, my business trip got moved up. I might have to leave as early as tomorrow. You and the baby stay home. I'll bring you both presents.'

I looked at the wallpaper on my phone, my son sleeping peacefully, his face soft and innocent, and suddenly, I smiled.

Since my husband's wedding was about to take place, how could I, the lawful wife and the wedding planner, possibly not attend?

…

I flew to Clairmont one step ahead of Victor.

The moment I landed and turned on my phone, his message popped up. 'Honey, how are you and our son doing?'

With a cold expression, I casually sent him a photo of me and the baby together.

He replied almost instantly, 'Our son looks so good. Honey, you're beautiful too. I don't even want to go on this trip anymore. I just want to come home and be with you both.'

I stared at those lines of text, a faint sneer tugging at my lips.

That photo was from last month. Back then, I wasn't this thin yet. My son was much smaller, too.

Victor had taken the photo himself, yet he didn't notice a thing.

…

On the wedding day, I stood behind the scenes in my role as the wedding planner.

Nearly all of Victor's relatives and friends were present. His mother moved briskly through the crowd, her face glowing with joy, attentive and considerate in every detail—the image of a flawless, loving mother-in-law.

Once upon a time, she had treated me the same way, as proof of how much the Langfords valued me.

The day Victor and I registered our marriage, it was during the pandemic. No guests. No banquet.

She had gripped my hand tightly, her voice thick with emotion. "It's our fault. We owe you so much. We'll make it up to you someday."

I wasn't used to staying in the countryside, so she spent thousands to book me a hotel in town.

When my morning sickness was severe, she tried every trick she could to cook food I might be able to swallow.

On the day I gave birth, she was the first to rush to my bedside, clutching my hand and crying as she said, "We're never doing this again. Children come at the cost of a mother. My heart aches for you. I don't want you to suffer like this ever again."

My own mother passed away many years ago. It was her deliberate care and protection that made me believe, for a fleeting moment, that I had found that long-lost maternal love again.

But now, standing beside Victor was Anna, smiling sweetly, while behind them stood Victor's mother, Olivia Parker, gazing at the couple with indulgent affection. They looked like a warm, happy family.

Only I stood apart, like an excluded stranger, completely unaware that I had already become an outsider.

So all that tenderness from before had been fake.

The bells rang, and the wedding began.

Under everyone's gaze, Victor held Anna's hand and walked to the center of the stage.

The wedding dress, the roses, the church, and Victor himself—it was all exactly as I had once imagined. Except the woman beside him wasn't me. It was Anna.

At Victor's request, the officiant stepped aside.

Victor was visibly emotional. He insisted on presiding over his own wedding.

"From the moment I first saw Anna, I've imagined this scene countless times," he said. "I believe that the nurse who comforted me outside the operating room deserves the very best wedding. That's why I spent two months giving her all of this. It's not that it took me two months to decide to marry Anna. It's just that preparing a wedding takes two months."

The audience burst into applause, deeply moved by this "ordinary yet great love."

I sat in the very last row, watching the affectionate man on stage and the delicate, charming woman beside him. If I didn't clap along, it would seem out of place.

Then Anna took the microphone, her voice trembling with emotion.

She said Victor was the best man in the world. When patients bullied her, it was Victor who stepped in to protect her.

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