Betrayed and Reborn: A Tale of True Love
Three months before our wedding, my fiancé Ryan posted photos on social media of his marriage certificate with my stepsister Chloe, along
with pictures of her pregnant belly.
The caption read: “Legally welcoming our little one into the world.”
Chloe commented with a shy emoji.
My mom liked the post and commented: “Once the baby is born, I’ll take care of it so you two can enjoy your time together.”
I couldn’t help but reply with a question mark. Immediately, Ryan’s harsh rebuke came flooding in.
“She’s just borrowing my name for a year of marriage. Once the baby is born, I’ll come back to you.”
“Don’t be so petty. My mom also said we should only get the marriage certificate after you give birth to a son. It works out perfectly to have the wedding first and get the certificate later.”
I let out a faint “mm” in response, then deleted all my social media posts related to Ryan before posting a new one:
“Need a new groom. Who wants to marry me?”
Ryan was the first to reply.
[Olivia Young, are you out of your mind? I’m just marrying her, why are you making such a big deal out of it?]
[You don’t actually think posting on social media will make me jealous, do you? That’s laughable. I’m warning you, stop causing trouble for no reason, and don’t give Chloe a hard time.]
Chloe quickly followed up on Ryan’s comment.
[Sis, Ryan just wants our child to be born legally. I won’t steal him away from you. After you and Ryan get married, my child can call you mom
too.]
My mom scolded me for being ungrateful.
[You get to have a child without suffering. Chloe is helping you so much, shouldn’t you be thanking her?]
Several of Ryan’s friends chimed in to agree.
[You and Chloe are sisters, so it doesn’t matter who Ryan marries, you’re all family anyway. How about Chloe gets him Monday, Wednesday, Friday and you get Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday!]
Everyone was joking and laughing.
I stood there stunned, tears welling up in my eyes.
Until they could no longer be contained, dripping down my chin onto my phone screen.
They were clearly in the wrong.
Yet they had the audacity to turn around and blame me.
How ridiculous.
These people weren’t worth my tears.
I wiped my eyes forcefully and noticed an eye–catching comment amidst the chaos:
It was from Ethan Shaw: “Can I be your new groom?”
Ethan and I grew up together.
11:05 AM
<
After college graduation, I stayed in the city while he chose to study abroad.
We had avoided close contact since I started dating Ryan in college, and it had been a long time since we last spoke.
As I was pondering this, Ethan called me directly.
“Olivia, I’ve liked you for a long time.”
“You know I’ve always disliked your stepsister, so I would never have anything to do with her. I don’t have any messy group of friends either. All these years, I’ve been focused on my career and haven’t had any ex–girlfriends.”
As he spoke, I suddenly received a contract.
When I opened it, I saw it was the transfer rights to all his assets and shares.
While I was still surprised, Ethan nervously continued.
“Olivia, this is all my sincerity. Will you give me a chance?”
My nose stung with emotion.
I suddenly remembered when we were kids, the teacher rewarded us with two candies he loved.
Even though he really wanted them, he didn’t eat a single one and gave them both to me.
He had always given me his utmost sincerity.
I choked up a bit as I said:
“I will.”
Love had seemed so intangible. I once tried to grasp it, only to end up hurt all over.
I had thought…
Thought that being alone would be fine.
But my grandmother’s dying wish was to see me married, to know that someone would take care of me from now on.
Ryan wasn’t worthy.
But I thought, if the groom was Ethan, grandma would be really reassured.
Ethan’s voice was full of joy.
“Then I’ll wrap up work and come back to marry you within two weeks.”
“Olivia, you’ll wait for me and won’t change your mind, right?”
His tone carried a hint of puppy–like pleading. I suddenly remembered promising as a child that I would be his bride when we grew up.
I made an affirmative sound.
Suddenly feeling the urge to cry.
“Ethan, let’s pinky promise.”
