On the day of our wedding, Liam Hopkins seemed restless, and I knew why—it was because of Sharon Hall.
The Hall and Hopkins families had been close for generations, and Sharon had grown up as Liam’s childhood sweetheart.
When I first found out about her, Liam had just made our relationship official by posting it on social media.
Sharon saw it, threw a tantrum, and even slammed her head against the wall in protest.
Liam, shaken and left with no choice, deleted the post.
From then on, he never mentioned our relationship again, not even our friends dared to bring up my name in front of Sharon.
That was when I realized Sharon wasn’t just a delicate soul. With her chronic health problems, mounting psychological pressure, and episodes of depression, she weaponized her vulnerability, resorting to threats of self-harm whenever things didn’t go her way.
When she didn’t show up at our wedding, I knew something was wrong.
Sure enough, just as I finished getting my makeup done and the officiant announced it was time for the ceremony to begin, Liam’s phone rang. It wasn’t Sharon on the other end but the police.
Liam’s face darkened as he hung up. “Sharon’s standing on the bridge, threatening to jump. I have to go.”
My heart sank, but I immediately stopped him. “Don’t go! This isn’t the first time she’s done this. Every time we’re together, she stirs up trouble like this. Haven’t you had enough?”
His brows furrowed deeply. “Diana, this is a matter of life and death. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
With that, he tried to pull away from me, but I stood my ground.
“Liam, if you walk out that door today, we’re done. I can’t keep tolerating her coming between us and destroying what we have.”
I couldn’t stand by and let him keep choosing her over me every single time.
His bloodshot eyes met mine, his phone buzzing again.
He answered, and Sharon’s tearful voice echoed through the line. “Liam, are you really going to marry that woman? The water here looks so cold. I…”
“Wait for me! I’ll be there soon!” he shouted, then ended the call.
Turning to me, he said, “Diana, I’ll make it up to you. I’m sorry!”
With that, he tore away from me and ran out the door. I didn’t stop him this time because I realized that this man was no longer someone I could rely on.
The makeup artist beside me looked at me, wide-eyed and stunned. I smiled, straightened my dress, and walked off to find Liam’s family.
I, Diana Clark, was never one to suffer in silence.
The banquet hall was bustling with activity. Even though the groom hadn’t arrived, the guests continued mingling as if nothing was amiss.
I scanned the room before dialing his number.
“Liam has run away from the wedding. Your family owes me a groom. Find me one!”
Across the room, I spotted him—dignified and composed, striding toward me with purpose.
“Miss Clark.”
