Greg and I had what appeared to be the perfect fairytale wedding. As I walked down the aisle, his smile was beaming, but I knew the truth lurking beneath our facade. Greg believed this was the beginning of our happily-ever-after, but I was holding a secret that would shatter his illusion. The reception carried on flawlessly, with champagne flowing and his parents proudly doting over their “perfect” son. I played my role, smiling and laughing at all the right moments, while Greg remained oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface.

As the night progressed, Greg’s excitement for our wedding night was impossible to miss. His touches were too eager, his smile too wide, and I felt like an actress performing a script someone else had written for me. But I had my own plans. When we finally retreated to the master suite, he was almost giddy as he unzipped my dress, unaware of the surprise waiting beneath.

When the dress fell, Greg’s world came crashing down. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the temporary tattoo of his ex, Sarah, etched across my torso, with his own damning words inscribed beneath: “One last taste of freedom before I’m bound to the same body forever.” His knees buckled, and he begged for an explanation, but there was no need. His guilt was written all over his face, and soon, his parents were at the door, demanding to know what had happened.

Marianne gasped when she saw the tattoo, while James’s anger simmered just beneath the surface. Greg, unable to deny the truth, collapsed into sobs, and his parents stood in shock at the revelation of his betrayal. I calmly explained how he had slept with Sarah the night before our wedding, leaving Marianne devastated and James seething with fury.

Finally, I told Greg it was over. His desperate pleas for forgiveness fell on deaf ears. I was done. As I slipped into my robe and walked out the door, the sound of Greg’s sobs echoed behind me, but they didn’t affect me anymore. I was free—free from him, his lies, and his betrayal.