He Skipped Our Wedding, So I Married His Rival

At 9 a.m., on the third floor of the Silver Crown Hotel on the Bellavista Strip, my bridesmaid, Megan, pushed open the door. She was alarmingly pale. I was adjusting my veil in front of the mirror. She clutched her phone, waiting 2 seconds before she spoke. "I still can't reach Ethan. Eight calls. He didn't answer the first six, and he rejected the last two." It was my wedding day. More than 270 guests were seated outside. My father, clients, investors, and friends who'd flown in from Eastbridge and Rainport were all waiting for the groom. I took the phone and tried him again. On the sixth ring, he finally answered. The first thing I heard wasn't Ethan's voice. It was a fit of rapid coughing. Then Ethan lowered his voice. "Elena, Sophia's asthma is acting up. She had a high fever last night, too. I'm in Westhaven. I can't leave." I stared at the face in the mirror, the one I'd spent 2 hours having made up. "And?" "Push the wedding back one day," he said, as though it were perfectly reasonable. "We can extend the hotel booking. The guests can change their flights. You know Sophia's had asthma since she was little. She nearly drowned saving me when we were kids. Her lungs have never been right. I can't leave her here alone." I said nothing. That only made him impatient. "Elena, it's 1 day. We've been together for 4 years. Do you really have to make this about you versus her right now?" I'd heard it all too many times. For my 29th birthday, he'd promised to take me to Valmere. 2 hours before we were supposed to leave, Sophia said someone was following her, and he drove to Westhaven. On the anniversary of our engagement, Sophia cut her wrist while filming a night scene. He spent the whole night at her apartment. Last Thanksgiving, he'd promised to have dinner with my father. All Sophia had to say was, "I don't want to spend the holiday alone," and he left without even grabbing his coat. Every time, he told me to be understanding. And every time, I eventually was. Sophia's weak coughing sounded over the phone again. "I have to go. She can't breathe," Ethan said. "I'll call you later." He hung up on me. Before I could even lower the phone, another call came in. Richard Lane. Ethan's father. "Now, Elena, Ethan really does have an emergency." He opened with his usual patronizing reassurance. "It's only a 1-day delay. There's no need to make a scene. You'll be family soon. You need to learn to be gracious." Gracious. I'd heard that word more than any other over the past 4 years. I loved Ethan, so I had to be gracious. Sophia wasn't well, so I had to be gracious. The Lane and Carter families would be doing a great deal of business together, so I had to be even more gracious. Today, his son had left me alone at our wedding, and he was still telling me to be gracious. I hung up. My father had been standing by the door the whole time. He didn't ask if I was hurting. "What are you going to do?" I reached up and took the veil out of my hair. As the white tulle fell onto the vanity, my mind suddenly felt clearer than it ever had. I opened my contacts and scrolled down. I stopped at a name. Alex Vaughn. My fiercest business rival. For years, I'd believed he was the reason Carter Tech had lost its most crucial funding round 3 years earlier. We clashed at industry summits and drove up each other's bids. The media loved reporting on our companies going head-to-head again. It wasn't until 6 months ago that I'd discovered he hadn't caused that funding disaster. I even had an unsent apology sitting on my phone. I called him. He answered after four rings. "Ms. Carter," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Isn't today your wedding? Found time to hand out wedding favors to the competition?" I glanced at the mirror. "I'm short a groom. Will you come?" There were 3 seconds of silence on the other end. In those 3 seconds, I could hear guests talking out in the hallway and my own heart beating fast. When Alex spoke again, his tone had changed. "A stand-in, or a legal husband?" "There's a difference?" "Of course," he said. "I don't make other men look good. If you want me walking in there in a tux, we're getting an actual marriage license. Even if we divorce later, we'll do it through the same process as any other married couple." I didn't hesitate. "Deal." "I'm in Bellavista for a conference," he said. "40 minutes." The call ended. Megan froze for a full 10 seconds, as though someone had hit pause. My father recovered first. "Elena, do you know what you're doing? Alex owns Vaughn Tech." "I know." "You've been fighting for 3 years." "I know that, too." "And now you're going to marry him?" I put my earrings back on. "At least he won't disappear on his own wedding day." My father opened his mouth, then closed it without another word. Megan suddenly smiled. She tossed her phone onto the table. "Fine. Then we're not canceling this wedding. "If the groom won't show up, we'll get another one." I looked at the veil spread across the sofa, and the last of the tightness in my chest eased. For 4 years, I'd told myself over and over that loving someone meant accepting him, understanding him, giving him freedom. But all those excuses I'd made to myself came down to fear of losing him. Fear that 4 years together would come to nothing. Fear that my one-sided devotion would turn out to be a joke. So I'd lowered my standards again and again, until I could barely see them anymore. Until today. Ethan had used more than 270 guests and my dignity for one final stress test. He was betting I'd give in. Betting I'd sit here in my wedding dress, just as I always had, waiting for him to finish taking care of Sophia and come back with a few sweet words. He'd bet wrong.