The Mind-Reading Bride Who Disappeared

Her name was Blair Covington.

Blair was Graham's high school sweetheart and a former Boston socialite. But after her family’s fortune collapsed, she was forced to leave him, though she remained obsessed with the past. The Vaughn family, unfortunately, had always disapproved of their match. Too proud to endure their judgment, Blair had chosen to leave.

And me? His supposed "love at first sight" was only because I had a similar background and family standing—a perfect substitute to appease his conservative family. Now that the real Blair was back, he no longer needed me.

Her return explained the last two months perfectly—the exact period Graham had been so distant, blaming his moodiness on wedding stress.

Suddenly, everything made sickening sense.

The hotel bills and security footage from my friend spelled out the whole sordid affair. I had to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. I was the cliché stand-in, a plot device ripped straight from a cheesy soap opera.

Blair’s return was anything but quiet. Her grand plan was to attend my wedding as a guest. When the officiant asked the question, Graham would say "I don't," then publicly confess his undying love for her, forcing the Vaughn family’s hand. Graham, in turn, saw this as the ultimate proof of his devotion to his dramatic sweetheart.

And me? Our million-dollar wedding? We were just expensive set dressing for their grand romantic drama.

The whole thing was so ridiculous I didn't know whether to laugh or scream.

The lights in my house stayed on all night. While other brides-to-be dreamt of their wedding day, I booked a one-way flight to London. At the same time, I asked my best friend, Maya Jones, to help me prepare a "wedding gift."

If they wanted drama, I would give them a show they'd never forget.

If Blair could wait in the pews for a confession for the ages, I could certainly pull off a last-minute "runaway bride" escape.

Luckily, my family had long been settled in Europe, so our Boston guest list was limited to close friends. The plan had always been to hold a second ceremony in London to spare our relatives the long trip. Ironically, that now made my getaway much easier.

I told Maya my plan. She took my checklist, her expression turning dead serious.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not. I'm just wondering if an 8K screen will be high-res enough for the guests in the back to see the looks on those bastards' faces."

Oh, right. I'd forgotten she was an MIT grad.

On the wedding day, I played my part, elegantly greeting guests alongside Graham, smiling through the relentless static of his thoughts. Today, his thoughts were a deafening roar.

'Has Blair arrived yet?'

'I can finally be with her. Five years. I've waited five whole years. She's finally going to be Mrs. Vaughn.'

'She's so brave for being here. After this, Blair will have to believe how much I love her.'

On and on it went. A chill ran down my spine. I couldn't stop a flicker of disgust from crossing my face.

Yet he remained the perfect gentleman, even feigning concern. "Clara, you look a little pale. Why don't you go rest in the lounge? I can handle the guests. Just be back before the ceremony."

'Perfect,' I thought, hiding a smirk.

I agreed. I planned to change out of my wedding dress and slip out, but as I headed for a side exit, I saw her at the end of the hall: Blair, here to "witness" her big moment.

Thanks to my ability, I recognized her instantly. Maya looked ready to charge forward and give her a piece of her mind, but I held her back. I feigned ignorance.

"You must be a friend of Graham's," I said with a gracious smile. "Please, come in. The ceremony is about to start."

Blair's own smile faltered. She was clearly annoyed by my easy familiarity with Graham, and her tone dripped with sarcasm. "Miss Donovan. What a coincidence. It seems we had the same idea for our dresses. Anyone who didn't know better might think I was the bride." She was wearing a white gown, a stark contrast to every other guest.

Her smug, arrogant thoughts echoed in my head.

'The show's about to start. In a few minutes, your fiancé is going to dump you for me at your own wedding. Let's see if you're still smiling then.'