My Husband Faked Our Marriage

While cleaning my husband’s office, I found our torn and crumpled marriage certificate in the trash. Thinking it was a mistake, I went to the civil registry to get a new copy, only to discover the truth. “There’s no registered marriage under your name with Mr. Johansen Smith,” she said. “But he is legally married. To a woman named Maureen Reid.” Maureen. My cousin. I stood there frozen, trying to process what she said. They’d been married for four years—long before Johansen and I ever walked down the aisle. Worse, I overheard him talking to his friends later that day. “Honestly? I loved Cassandra once,” he said. “But she left. Maureen was there. We got married. Then Cassandra came back and everyone expected us to be the golden couple. So I faked it. Why should I divorce Maureen? Cassandra’s family is rich. She’s useful. I can have both.” That was the breaking point. I was done playing his fool. So I called my mother. “Mom,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “About the marriage arrangement I once rejected for Johansen… I’m ready now. Please, prepare it for me.” One week. I have to wait one week, and Johansen would be nothing but a bitter memory. Or so I thought—until he showed up at my engagement party, eyes full of regret, pleading for a second chance… as if he hadn’t shattered me completely.