Instead, I walked straight into a nightmare.
The house was eerily quiet. Then I heard it.
A sob.
I froze in the hallway, my pulse quickening.
Then my mother’s voice, sharp and controlled.
“Alright. I won’t tell her. But only on one condition.”
A strangled sound followed. A voice thick with desperation.
“Please, Diane,” Patrick begged. “Don’t do this to me. Please…”
I crept forward, heart hammering against my ribs. And that’s when I saw it.
Patrick.
On his knees.
Tears streamed down his face, his hands clasped together like a man at prayer.
And my mother stood over him, arms crossed, looking down at him with nothing but cold calculation.
My stomach twisted.
The Secret That Nearly Ruined My Life
“He’s begging because I told him I would tell you the truth. He thinks his pleading will stop me.”
I swallowed hard. “Tell me what?”
Patrick shot up, grabbing my hands in his. His grip was tight, frantic.
“Amanda, please—just let me explain!”
“Mom. Tell me what you know.”
She didn’t hesitate.
“He was engaged before, Amanda. And he did something terrible to her. Something he was planning to do to you.”
“What?”
“He left her at the altar,” my mother said. “But not before stealing every dollar she had saved for their future—including their down payment for their house. He vanished, Amanda. Took everything and disappeared.”
I felt sick.
I turned to Patrick, hoping—praying—that he would deny it. That he would tell me my mother had it wrong.
His mouth opened.
Closed.
Then he sighed.
His silence was my answer.
The Signs I Had Missed
All the little things I had brushed off—things that had seemed insignificant—now felt glaringly obvious.
Like how he always dodged conversations about money.
“Finances stress me out, babe. Let’s just focus on us.”
Or the time he convinced me to put all the wedding deposits on my credit card.
“You have better credit than me, babe. I’ll pay you back, promise.”
And how strangely quiet he got when I mentioned opening a joint account after the wedding.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
God.
I had been blind.
This man had never planned a future with me.
He had planned an exit.
The Final Blow
“And guess who tracked him down?” my mother said. “Noelle. His ex-fiancée.”
My stomach dropped.
She pulled a letter from her purse.
“She found me on Facebook three months ago. Thought you should hear the truth before it was too late.”
Three months.
“Mom. You knew for three months and didn’t tell me?!”
Her expression tightened. “I needed proof first.”
My hands trembled. “And now?”
She met my gaze. “Now, I have proof.”
Patrick reached for me. “Amanda, I love you! Noelle lied. Your mother is twisting this. Please—you know me!”
I looked into his tear-streaked face, the man I had once loved.
“Get out,” I said quietly.
He stilled. “Babe—”
“Now!”
For the first time since I met him, Patrick listened.
The Wedding Dress That Told the Truth
Three days later, I stood in my bedroom, staring at the wedding dress hanging from my closet door.
It was supposed to be the dress. The one I walked down the aisle in. The one Patrick would have looked at me in with those soft, deceitful eyes.
I stepped closer, running my fingers over the fabric.
And then I saw it.
A tag.
A balance due.
Payment Outstanding: $3,200.
Patrick had insisted on paying for the dress.
“It’s my gift to you, babe.”
But he never paid for it.
He never intended to.
If I hadn’t found out, I would have walked into that wedding blind, believing in forever—while Patrick had already planned his escape.
A shiver ran down my spine.
I had almost been his next victim.
A Toast to Karma
Two weeks later, I sat across from a woman I had never met before but who knew exactly how I felt.
Noelle.
Patrick’s ex-fiancée.
We clinked whiskey glasses in a dimly lit bar, bonded by shared betrayal.
“Did he tell you he wanted three kids?” I asked.
She let out a dry laugh. “Of course. And that he wanted to name the oldest after his dad.”
I frowned. “He told me his dad died when he was six.”
She smirked. “Nope. Fred is alive and well. I tracked him down after Patrick stole my savings.”
We went quiet.
“You know,” she said finally, “I used to think I was stupid for falling for it. But the act was so… believable.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
She lifted her glass. “To us. And to making sure he never does this again.”
I clinked mine against hers.
“And to karma.”