The Billionaire's Discarded Bride

I always knew Aaron had a cold heart. I just never thought I’d be the one he had froze solid. Today my sister Lucy is marrying him. My first love and only love. The man who still owns every corner of my body even though he threw me away like trash. Lucy and I were never tight, but blood is blood. I loved her. I would’ve taken a bullet for her. She sat me down more than once, with her voice soft, eyes worried: “Khia, Aaron is dangerous. Leave him.” I believed she cared. I stopped talking to her so I could keep him safe from all the warnings. Turns out she was only waiting for me to clear the way. I met him at fifteen. One look and I was gone. From that night on, I belonged to him completely. This morning I sat on the edge of my bed in his old T-shirt, the one that still smells faintly like his cologne, staring at the cheap blue bridesmaid dress hanging on the door. The fabric looked like something you’d use to scrub the floor of a public toilet. Tasha kicked my bedroom door open without knocking, phone in one hand, coffee in the other. “Girl, you look like death warmed up. Get your ass in the shower before I drag you.” I couldn’t move. She dropped beside me, set the coffee down, and pulled me into her arms. “Khia. Look at me.” I did. Her eyes were fire. “Today you walk in there like you own the damn place. You smile like you don’t give a f**k. Let them choke on it.” I laughed once, wet and broken. “I can’t.” “You can and you will. Because I’m not letting you hide. Not today.” She wiped my tears with the sleeve of her leather jacket. “Now go wash your face. I’m doing your makeup so good Aaron’s gonna forget his own name when he sees you.” My mind still went back to the last night he touched me, three months before he ended us. He came over after midnight, eyes dark, jaw tight. He locked the door, pushed me against it, and kissed me so hard my lips bruised. He f****d me raw. We never needed to use a condom. Afterwards, he pulled me into his lap, kissed my forehead, and said, “I’ll never let you go, Khia. You’re my whole world.” Liar. Three weeks later he told me sacrifices had to be made. Mum zipped me into the cheap blue gown that made me look washed-out on purpose. “Don’t do anything dramatic, Khia. Lucy is the bride. Be happy for her.” Tasha, standing behind her, mouthed, “f**k that,” and flipped Mum off when she turned away. I wanted to stay in bed and disappear. My parents said if I didn’t show, the whole town would keep saying Lucy stole my man. So I went. The church smelled like lilies and lies. I stood three feet from the altar, clutching a bouquet that smelled extremely cheap. Lucy walked in glowing, with her eyes shining so bright that even the veil couldn't conceal. She looked perfect. While Aaron stood at the altar in a black tux, looking like sin, waiting for my sister. When the priest said, “If anyone has reason these two should not be married…” she turned and looked straight at me. Her smile was slow, sharp and victorious. I felt the knife twist. That was the moment I remembered the clinic. Cold table with bright lights. My mother holding my hand while the doctor took away the only piece of Aaron I had left growing inside me. “It’s for the family,” she’d whispered. “This wedding has to happen.” My chest caved in. I couldn’t breathe. The bouquet fell from my hands. I ran. Heels snapping on marble, dress ripping at the seam, tears blinding me. Guests gasped. My mother screamed my name. But Nobody moved. Except Tasha. She kicked off her stilettos, held up her own dress, and ran after me. “Khia! Wait!” I made it three blocks before my legs gave out. I collapsed on the wet pavement, rain mixing with mascara and heartbreak. Tasha dropped beside me, pulled me into her arms, and let me scream into her chest. “I got you, baby. I swear I got you. Let it all out.” When the crying finally slowed, I looked up at the grey sky and made a promise out loud. “I’m leaving tonight. I’m going to school. I’m getting money. I’m coming back so beautiful, so powerful, they won’t recognise me until it’s too late.” Tasha wiped my face with her sleeve. “And I’ll be right there watching them burn.” Eight years, Aaron. Start counting.