The morning light streamed through the stained glass, casting soft rainbows across my white gown. My pulse raced with excitement as I admired my reflection, trying to steady my breath. Today was the day—my day.
“You look absolutely gorgeous, Anna,” my best friend and maid of honor, Tia, beamed as she fluffed my veil.
I grinned. “Can you believe it? I’m finally getting married.”
With careful hands, Tia guided me into my wheelchair. My lifelong companion. My legs had never carried me, but today, I wasn’t thinking about that. Today was about love.
“Brad adores you, Anna,” Tia whispered, squeezing my hand. “You two were meant for each other.”
I thought of Brad standing at the altar, waiting. We had met at a support group six months ago—both of us disabled, both yearning for understanding—and from the first conversation, we just… fit. For the first time in my life, I felt seen. Cherished.
“Funny,” Tia chuckled as she adjusted a curl. “You always swore you’d never get married.”
I laughed, remembering my fierce little-girl self. “Guess I just needed the right person.”
A knock interrupted us. “Honey? It’s time,” my mom called gently.
I took one last breath, steeling myself. “Let’s do this.”
The grand church doors opened, revealing a sea of smiling faces. My heart swelled as my father, James, leaned over to kiss my cheek before carefully pushing my wheelchair down the aisle. Brad stood waiting, his wide smile sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
“You’re radiant, princess,” Dad whispered.
“Thanks for being here,” I whispered back, my eyes locked on Brad’s.
The ceremony began, the priest’s voice echoing through the vaulted space. But as I stole glances toward the pews, something nagged me. Dad, who was just beside me, was suddenly gone. Confused, I tried to brush it off, focusing on Brad’s steady gaze. This was our moment.
“Do you, Brad, take Anna to be your lawful wedded wife?”
His grip tightened on my hands. “I d—”
The doors slammed open with a thunderous bang.
“STOP THE WEDDING!”
Heads whipped around. Gasps filled the church as my father stormed down the aisle, face flushed, eyes blazing. His voice rang out, commanding and sharp.
“THIS WEDDING IS CANCELED! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO THIS MAN REALLY IS!
Panic surged through me. “Dad, what are you doing?!”
He pointed a trembling finger straight at Brad. “Anna, listen to me. He’s a liar. He’s been deceiving you since the very beginning!”
I shook my head, my mind desperate to reject his words. “That’s ridiculous. Brad loves me.”
“He’s a con artist!” Dad barked. “He targets women like you. He orchestrated everything—the support group, the fast romance. It’s a setup!”
Brad’s face paled, his voice shaky. “Anna, don’t listen. I love you. This is real.”
“Dad, you can’t just accuse him like this. Where’s your proof?” I demanded.
A chilling smile crept across Dad’s face. “I have proof.”
He clapped his hands, and a waiter stepped forward, holding a cup. My stomach twisted.
“I’m exposing you, right here, right now,” Dad growled. “Let’s see you fake this.”
Before anyone could react, he flung the cup’s contents straight at Brad’s legs.
