Give Me Back My Husband

Meeting The Groom

POV: Olivia

“He wouldn’t like you anyways, you look so prude and disgusting. He likes me better and I’ve fallen in love with him,” she told me that day, smiling brightly as if sleeping with my boyfriend was nothing. As if breaking me was just another hobby she enjoyed. Those words never really left me. They just buried themselves inside me, living like thorns under my skin. Every time I thought about coming home, those exact words were the first thing that came back.

So when I received news that she was getting married to a well-known billionaire in the city, I wasn’t surprised. Sophia always loved shiny things, men, cars, status, anything loud enough to be seen. But the moment I heard she was finally tying the knot, that same memory of her casual betrayal replayed in my head, making me feel the old pain again, fresh as new wounds.

Still, I prepared to come down for her wedding. After all, we are twins. No matter what she did, no matter how much she hurt me, I didn’t want to be the sister who ignored something so important. I wasn’t excited to leave work or face the family I had left several years ago, but I convinced myself that it was the right thing to do. What true sisters would do.

When I arrived, my big brother Richard was waiting at the airport. The moment I saw Richie, every memory of home rushed into my heart. Without thinking, I ran into his arms and hugged him tightly.

“I’ve missed you too, kiddo,” he chuckled, squeezing me.

In the car, we tried to catch up on everything. The town. People we knew. Things that changed. Things that didn’t. For a while, it felt normal, like I never left. But eventually he asked the one question no one had ever bothered to ask me all these years.

“How are you, Liv?”

He didn’t ask with pity. He asked with a soft smile, with eyes that looked warm and honest. He was the only one I told about my fallout with Sophia. Him and Liam. They understood why I left town. They saw it all—the favoritism, the pressure, the way our mother praised Sophia for breathing and judged me for existing differently. They were there the day I finally broke and decided to leave for good.

“I’m glad you left, Liv,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I would’ve hated it if you stayed and let them influence you. Mom and Sophia talk about rich men and money all the damn time. It’s depressing.”

He changed the topic, asking about work, about my art pieces, the ones he saw in museums and online. He praised nearly every piece I released over the years, describing colors and emotions he noticed. I didn’t expect that. My throat tightened as I realized that he had actually kept up with me. He didn’t forget me the way Mom did. Or the way Sophia wanted.

By the time we arrived at the family mansion, our excitement faded instantly. The whole building was in chaos. Lights on, voices raised, footsteps running everywhere. Richie and I exchanged a sharp look before hurrying inside.

Mom was in a full panic, pacing and yelling. Dad was sitting on the couch, clutching his chest as if he was about to pass out. I ran to Mom first, but she screamed at me the moment she saw me.

“It’s all your fault! Why did you come back home? You made her leave! It’s your fault she ran away from her wedding! It’s your fault!”

She pushed me away roughly. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I stared at her, stunned. I turned to Dad. He was shaking, his breath uneven, eyes red.

I sat beside him immediately and hugged him. He leaned into me, sobbing softly.

Only Liam looked stable enough to talk, so Richie and I asked him what happened.

And the words he spoke didn’t feel real.

Sophia had eloped.

Not just eloped—she ran off with Lucas, the same Lucas she stole from me eight years ago. As if destiny enjoyed replaying the same scenes in different colors. She didn’t just leave the wedding. She took a hundred million dollars from her billionaire fiancé as dowry, then vanished to enjoy life with her lover. Meanwhile, the family was left behind, drowning in shame and debt.

I laughed. I cried. I didn’t even know which emotion I was feeling. It felt like my entire chest was shaking. Liam showed us pictures Sophia uploaded online—her smiling, drinking, dancing, bragging to the world that she was living her best life while leaving us to face the disgrace.

Within minutes, the family made a decision.

They begged me to marry the billionaire in my sister’s place.

“Take down the pictures from Sophia’s account! Get the beautician! Prepare for the wedding!” Mom ordered, not even asking if I wanted this.

They ran around like headless chickens, trying to salvage their reputation, trying to force me into Sophia’s shadow again. I felt trapped. Not a single person asked what I wanted. No one cared if I had a life. A man. A plan. Nothing. They just assumed I would fill her space like a spare doll.

I felt suffocated, like the walls were closing in. Like I had stepped back into the nightmare I once escaped.

I walked out before Mom could finish begging. I threatened to return to the airport and fly out. I reached the door with my hands shaking from anger and fear and heartbreak.

But when I swung it open, I froze. The groom, Dominic, was there, looking so furious that I felt chilly immediately. He’s handsome man in his mid-thirties. Broad shoulders. Clean jawline. Brown skin that looked smooth and warm. He looked like a Greek god, looking so angelic and majestic. His scent wafted into my nostrils and it hit me with shock and awe. My breath caught as I stared.

“Why would anyone run away from such beauty and wealth?” I thought within me as I squeezed my legs to curb the desires I felt between my legs as I stared at him. Beside him were two kids, a boy and a girl, both adorable, both clinging to his sides.

For a second, I thought he came to confront us. To demand why his bride disappeared. But the longer I looked, the more I noticed. He wasn’t looking at me, it felt as if his eyes were fixed on me and I felt his burning gaze as he checked me out, I literally felt his gaze on my skin, giving me goosebumps wherever they touched. But when I looked closely, I realized he wasn’t looking at me, Not exactly. His eyes were fixed forward, but empty. Detached. His expression confused but calm.

Then I saw it...

The wheelchair...

The dark sunglasses...

My chest tightened. He wasn’t just sitting, he was unable to stand. And he wasn’t just wearing sunglasses, he was blind.