Two weeks ago, my fiancé Josh gave me his idea.
“I know our budget is tight, but my aunt owns a beautiful vineyard. She said we can use it for free!”
He hesitated. Thinking: His cousin got married there last year. Wouldn’t our day feel like a repeat?
“No way! The vineyard will look totally different. And think of the money we’ll save.”
He was right. None of the venues I liked fit our budget. So, I agreed.
I told my parents that morning. They were happy we’d found a solution. Everything was falling into place…
Until three nights ago.
I got a text from a random number:
“I hope you’re not still going through with it. You deserve to know the truth.”
Attached was a picture. Of Josh… holding hands with someone else. Not recently. It was at the same vineyard.
I stared at it. Confused. Then the messages came flooding in. Screenshots. Voice notes. A woman I had never met… telling me everything.
They had been engaged once.
He proposed to her at the vineyard, promised her forever… and then ghosted her after she miscarried.
And now? He was marrying me at the same place.
I confronted him. His response?
“It’s in the past. Why does it matter?”
That night, I packed my things and left. I don’t care how beautiful the vineyard is. I’m not walking into a marriage that started with a lie wrapped in wine and roses.
Sometimes the perfect setting hides a rotten story.
I’m rewriting mine from scratch.
