1. Betrayal at Wedding Day
Wearing an elegant white gown, holding a bouquet, walking down the aisle, and exchanging vows until death do us part were every woman's dream. Hannah never expected that this would be the day she would end her single life.
It all started six months ago when Jeffrey proposed to her on her 25th birthday.
Jeffrey was perfect in every way, showering Hannah with attention and love. He was enough, although he did not come from an incredibly wealthy family. A happy and simple married life was what Hannah wanted, as she had never felt true happiness in half her life.
"Hannah!" A voice interrupted her thoughts as the door to her room swung open without permission.
Francesca Comb—who took the last name Sears ten years ago, Hannah's stepmother—a woman in her mid-forties, heavily made up and oozing glamour, stepped in.
"Yes, Mom?" Hannah replied.
Francesca looked cynically at the young woman, a twenty-five-year-old with natural beauty. Hannah had a slim face, a symmetrical nose, and full red lips. Her light brown wavy hair was pulled back into a bun, revealing her graceful neck.
"You haven't put on your wedding dress yet, have you?" Francesca asked bluntly.
Hannah shook her head. "Not yet, I was just about to."
"Don't bother, and it's not for you."
Hannah's face showed confusion. "What do you mean, Mom?"
Before Hannah could figure it out, Aspen entered the room with Jeffrey. The atmosphere became strange, especially since Jeffrey had unexpectedly shown up at the house instead of meeting at the church.
"Jeffrey, speak up!" Francesca urged.
Jeffrey's face turned pale, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Sensing Jeffrey's strange behavior, Hannah tried to comfort him by reaching for his arm, but he pulled away stiffly.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Hannah asked.
But Jeffrey shrugged off Hannah's hand with a stiff movement, leaving her in shock.
"Jeffrey?" Hannah tried to make eye contact, but he avoided her gaze.
"I can't marry you," Jeffrey said, shaking slightly.
"But why?" Hannah's eyes widened.
"Because I'm pregnant with Jeffrey's child!" came a firm voice from Aspen.
Aspen's eyes were as sharp as Francesca's. The twenty-four-year-old young woman with shoulder-length black hair wrapped her arms around Jeffrey's waist.
Hannah knew Aspen had always resented her, hurling insults and sarcastic remarks at her for years. But this time, the joke was not funny at all.
"Okay, I think your joke went too far this time," Hannah said.
"Jeff, tell her. Are you going to keep quiet?" This time, it was Aspen who pushed.
Hannah looked for answers in Jeffrey, who remained motionless. Instead of laughter and reassurance, she hoped Jeffrey would let out a chuckle and explain that it was just a prank. But there was no denial from Jeffrey; he continued to avoid eye contact.
"Aspen is indeed carrying my child, Hannah. And I must marry her," Jeffrey said.
The words were flat, without remorse.
Hannah's heart immediately ached, and her body shook from the blow of bitter reality.
Why on the day she had so eagerly anticipated? Why did Jeffrey and Aspen have to ruin it all?
Hannah sat on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down her face, trying to hold back her sobs.
"Why?" she whispered.
"At least you didn't marry the man who slept with your sister," Francesca replied calmly. "You should be grateful for that, Hannah. There is no need to mourn what has happened."
Francesca left the room, entirely indifferent to Hannah's shattered feelings.
Even Aspen showed no remorse but a satisfied smile as she looked at the crying Hannah.
Hannah clenched her fists and pressed them to her chest. "Why?" she said, still in disbelief.
"We love each other, Hannah. And if you insist on marrying Jeffrey, then go ahead. But remember, there is a child neglected because of your selfishness," Aspen explained.
Selfish? Hannah thought. Who was selfish and heartless? Hannah or Aspen?
She couldn't think anymore.
"How long has it been?" This time, Hannah raised her head and stared directly at Jeffrey. "How long have you been cheating with my sister?"
"For the last three months," Jeffrey replied.
Hannah tried to remember what had happened three months ago. Nothing had changed, and there were no suspicious signs. Jeffrey was the same, and his love felt so real. Hannah and Jeffrey still shared sweet, romantic moments and exchanged tender words.
Could Jeffrey be two-timing her?
Meanwhile, Aspen already had a future husband of her own. Yes, Hannah had overheard it in conversations between Francesca and her father, John. What made Aspen so blinded by greed that she wanted to take everything Hannah had? Ironically, Hannah had nothing but the happiness she shared with Jeffrey.
Busy working hard to maintain the family's finances and on the verge of bankruptcy due to Francesca and Aspen's extravagant lifestyle, was it selfish for Hannah to marry and pursue her happiness? Especially now that it seemed impossible.
Then Hannah stood up and let out a long sigh. Her swollen eyes looked sadly at Jeffrey and Aspen.
"Fine, marry Aspen, Jeff," Hannah said quietly.
She left the room, leaving behind her unworn wedding dress. When she decided to leave Jeffrey's life, all her hopes went with her.
Hannah's body was still shaking as she was forced to witness Jeffrey and Aspen's wedding in the church. All eyes were on her, filled with wonder.
How could her sister replace the bride? But no one said anything; Hannah felt the curiosity in their eyes.
Everything crumbled as Jeffrey and Aspen exchanged vows, their lips touching warmly.
Were there no more of those sweet kisses for Hannah?
After Jeffrey and Aspen exited the church, Hannah trailed behind them, her steps listless. Suddenly, Francesca seized Hannah's arm, gripping it with a half-forced urgency.
"Oh my, gather yourself. Don't let your gloomy face ruin today's event," Francesca hissed in irritation.
Hannah merely glanced at Francesca, who seemed devoid of compassion. What harm would a slightly disrupted wedding day do compared to Hannah's forever-shattered life?
Once Jeffrey and Aspen entered the car, Francesca forcibly led Hannah to the other side of the sidewalk. She approached a man in a light brown suit standing next to a luxurious car parked at the curb.
Upon seeing Francesca and Hannah approaching, the man in his early 40s nodded politely.
"Mrs. Sears," he greeted in a deep, cultured voice.
"Hello, Edward." Francesca smiled broadly, somewhat exaggeratedly.
"Congratulations on your daughter's wedding. I hope you remember the promise you made three months ago," Edward, the man, said coldly, staring at Francesca. "You wouldn't dare to break that promise, would you?"
What promise? Hannah wondered. What had Francesca done to make a promise implied in such a subtle warning? Hannah pondered.
Francesca let out a forced laugh. "Oh, of course not. You see, I have two daughters, and this is my daughter Hannah."
Hannah nodded politely to the figure named Edward, who responded with a subtle diplomatic nod.
"Miss," Edward greeted.
"She's my step daughter, actually. She's the one who's going to marry Mr. Alden." Suddenly, Francesca said.
Hannah reflexively turned to her stepmother; her eyes wide with shock. Her voice almost screamed, "Married?!"