When I turned thirty, I feared love had passed me by. But now, just two days from marrying Robert—the man who made me feel complete—it finally felt real.
That joy quickly faltered when Robert entered our bedroom, looking uneasy. “Katherine, I’m sorry, but I have to leave for a work trip. I’ll be back before the wedding,” he said. Hurt and confused, I reluctantly agreed.
But later, when Travis, Robert’s boss, called to apologize for missing our wedding—and mentioned he wasn’t sending Robert anywhere—I knew something was wrong.
Panicking, I rushed to the airport, bought a ticket for Robert’s flight, and secretly followed him. I watched as he visited a house and hugged a woman I’d never seen before.
Heartbroken but determined, I approached the house. The woman introduced herself as Liz—Robert’s first love. She assured me Robert hadn’t cheated. He had come to apologize for his past, wanting to start our marriage without lingering regrets.
Shaken but reassured, I returned home at dawn. Robert, worried sick, admitted to lying but swore he loved only me. I believed him—and as we embraced, I knew we were ready to build our future together.
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