On My Wedding Day, I Married Someone Else Chapter 01

On My Wedding Day, I Married Someone Else Chapter 01

Three days before the wedding, my fiancé sold the house we’d spent three years building together.

His crew exploded in the garage bar.

“You’ve lost your goddamn mind, Derek. You sold the house because Tiffany wanted a purse? Does Savannah even know? Where’s she supposed to live after the wedding—your pickup bed?”

“Yeah, Savannah oversaw every inch of that renovation. She sanded and stained the wainscoting in the master bedroom herself. Planted every hydrangea in the garden. All of it, her work.”

Derek knocked back a glass of Blanton’s, ice clanking against the glass with an impatient sound.

“She loves me so much she almost died taking a knife for me. You really think she’s gonna care about some beat-up house?”

“Besides. She’s always saying as long as she’s with me, anywhere is home. Perfect time to see if she actually meant it.”

I stood in the hallway outside the tool room, a container of hangover soup from Whole Foods in my hand. Behind that door, not quite shut, his careless voice carried through.

The hallway smelled like motor oil and old wood. I leaned against the cold drywall for a few seconds. Then I turned, still holding the cold soup, and walked out.

The morning of the wedding, my phone buzzed like a death threat. Derek’s photo flashed on the screen.

“Savannah, where the hell are you? Jesus Christ, both families are in the church. Forty people waiting on you.”

I sat in a speeding Uber, watching the oak-lined street I knew with my eyes closed slide past the window.

“I already signed the papers with someone else. I’m at home now.”

***

That house. A 1920s Colonial with a wide front porch and oak floors. From the first renovation sketch I ever drew, it took three full years of my life.

Tiffany posted one tearful Instagram story. “I want this bag so bad, it’s like starlight fell to earth.” Derek turned my house into cash and bought her a Himalaya Birkin—Hermès’s crown jewel. Two hundred fifty thousand dollars. Nearly impossible to get worldwide.

I stood in that garage hallway, the bag’s handles cutting into my palms. My hands shook. Every breath pulled at something deep and dull in my chest.

Derek’s friend Marcus raised his voice.

“Bro. You gotta at least tell Savannah. Selling a house isn’t like dumping an old truck. She comes home and the house is gone? She’ll blow your head off with that custom hunting rifle of yours.”

Derek waved a hand, shooing a fly.

“You done? Savannah this, Savannah that. I’m not gonna screw her over. I’ll rent a luxury apartment at the Marquess, let her cool off, then we’ll figure it out.”

“But it’s your marital home. That’s different. What you did—that is cold as hell.”

Derek kicked the toolbox beside him, agitated.

“If she finds out, she’ll get all teary-eyed with the questions. I can’t stand that look. I don’t have time to calm her down.”

“She’s in love with me down to her bones. She’s not gonna leave me over something this small. Don’t forget—that scar on her back is because of me. Selling a house is nothing.”

Someone egged him on. Kyle from the next block over, who nudged Derek with an elbow, grinning.

“I get Derek. It’s all for Tiffany, man. Blonde, blue-eyed, looks like she can’t survive without a man. Who wouldn’t fall for that?”

“Hah. Back at Alabama we used to bet Derek would end up with a Tiffany type. That’s the real match. Savannah’s got too much spine. Hard to handle.”

Derek’s face darkened. He slammed his glass down on the bench vise.

“Shut your mouths. All of you. Savannah cannot hear this. If she goes nuclear on me over this, I’m holding every one of you responsible.”

The laughter got louder.

“Yeah, yeah. We won’t say a word. Derek’s the man. Savannah can’t live without him.”

Right then, Derek’s phone rang. The screen lit up with “Tiffany” and a pink heart emoji.

The room went quiet. Everyone exchanged knowing looks.

“There it is. The queen’s checking in.”

Derek didn’t deny it. The corner of his mouth pulled up. He cleared his throat, and his voice dropped eight degrees softer.

On the other end, Tiffany’s voice came through—sweet, soft, with a tremble she meant for him to hear.

“Derek… did you really get the Himalaya for me? I heard people wait years on the list and never get one.”

“Yeah. Two-fifty. Pulled it from a private buyer in Palm Beach. It ships next week. You’ll be the first woman in Tennessee carrying it.”

“But… isn’t that too much? I can’t even imagine…”

“Two hundred fifty K is nothing. If it makes you happy, it’s worth it. Besides. My sweet girl deserves the best.”

A satisfied sigh drifted through from her end, cloying.

“You’re so good to me… When I get it, the first unboxing video is for you. Only you.”

Derek’s eyes crinkled. His voice could’ve dripped honey.

“Good. I’ll be waiting, princess.”

The call ended. His friends swarmed.

“A quarter-million-dollar bag! Derek, you gonna have Tiffany carry it straight into your new house? Savannah… she doesn’t even have one decent piece of jewelry.”