I was moments from saying “I do” when the church doors slammed open and my dad shouted that the wedding was off. His next words broke my heart in an instant.
Soft morning light streamed through the stained glass, casting colors across my white dress. I couldn’t stop smiling as I checked myself in the long mirror. It was my big day.
“You look stunning, Zoe,” my best friend and maid of honor, Brynne, said, adjusting my veil.
I beamed at her, my heart racing with joy. “I can’t believe it’s happening. I’m getting married!”
As Brynne helped me into my wheelchair, a hint of nerves crept in. I’d been born with a leg condition, using a wheelchair my whole life. But today, I pushed that aside to feel happy.
“Finn loves you just as you are,” Brynne said, squeezing my hand. “You two are perfect together.”
I nodded, picturing my fiancé at the altar. We’d met six months ago at a support group. Finn was disabled, like me, and we connected instantly, our bond deep and real.
For the first time, I felt truly seen and valued.
“Remember when we were kids?” Brynne said, fixing a loose curl. “You swore you’d never get married.”
I laughed, thinking of my stubborn younger self. “Guess I just needed the right guy.”
A knock came at the door. “Zoe? It’s time, sweetie,” my mom, Lila, called.
I took a deep breath, smoothing my dress. “Let’s do this. Time to get married!”
The church doors opened, and all eyes turned to me. I felt a surge of confidence as my dad, Cole, pushed my wheelchair down the aisle.
Finn’s smile as I approached made my heart skip.
When we reached the altar, Dad leaned down to kiss my cheek. “You’re beautiful, honey,” he whispered.
I smiled at him. “Thanks for being here, Dad.”
He nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it, kiddo.”
As the ceremony began, I glanced at the pews, looking for Dad’s face. He was there just a moment ago. I frowned when I couldn’t spot him. Where had he gone?
“Dearly beloved,” the priest started, “we are gathered here today…”
I pushed my worry aside, focusing on Finn’s warm brown eyes. This was our moment, and nothing could ruin it.
“Do you, Finn, take Zoe to be your lawful wedded wife?”
Finn’s grip on my hands tightened. “I d—”
Suddenly, the doors crashed open with a loud bang. “STOP THE WEDDING!”
My dad stormed down the aisle, his face red with anger. “THIS WEDDING IS OFF! YOU DON’T KNOW WHO THIS GUY REALLY IS!”
I gasped, “Dad, what’s wrong?!” horrified.
Dad reached us, pointing at Finn. “Zoe, listen. He’s a liar. He’s been tricking you from the start!”
I shook my head, not wanting to believe it. “That’s crazy. Finn loves me!”
“He’s a fake!” Dad said. “He’s done this before, targeting trusting women like you. The support group, the quick romance—it was all a scam!”
Finn’s face went pale. “Zoe, don’t listen to him. It’s real!”
I looked between them, my mind spinning. “Dad, you can’t just say that. Where’s your proof?”
A grim smile crossed Dad’s face. “Oh, I’ve got proof.”
Dad clapped, and a waiter brought a cup. “I’m throwing this on your legs, you fake!” Dad growled at Finn.
Before anyone could react, he splashed the cup’s contents onto Finn’s legs.
Finn yelped and jumped out of his wheelchair.
The church went silent. I stared, shocked, as Finn STOOD on TWO PERFECTLY FINE LEGS.
Dad’s laugh cut through the quiet. “It was just cold water! Now you see the truth, Zoe. He’s been faking his disability!”
Tears burned my eyes as the betrayal hit me. “Finn… how could you?”
Finn’s eyes darted around. “Zoe, please, let me explain—”
“Explain what? How you lied to me?”
“It wasn’t like that. My feelings are real!”
“Save it!” I snapped.
Police officers rushed into the church. “You’re under arrest for fraud…”
“Johnson?” I gasped. Even his name was fake.
I watched quietly as they took him away in handcuffs, my dreams falling apart. The last thing I saw was the con artist looking back, his eyes full of regret.
Hours later, I sat in my room, lost in my broken world. The weight of sadness felt heavy, a reminder of the future I’d lost. A knock came at the door.
“Zoe?” It was my mom. “Your dad wants to talk. Can he come in?”
I sighed, wiping my face. “Okay.”
Dad walked in, his earlier anger gone, replaced by sorrow. He sat on my bed, running a hand through his gray hair.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. I know this wasn’t the wedding you wanted.”
I couldn’t look at him. “How’d you find out? Why not tell me sooner?”
Dad sighed. “I saw him walking in the garden today. It didn’t add up. Then I remembered he asked for money for your honeymoon, but nothing was booked. I got suspicious. I hired an investigator. In half a day, we found out he’s scammed other women, Zoe. Wealthy, trusting women like you. I had to expose him… in front of everyone.”
Tears fell. “I feel so stupid.”
“No, honey.” Dad hugged me. “This is our fault—your mom’s and mine. We were so busy with work, we forgot what mattered. You.”
I sobbed. “I was so lonely, Dad. He made me feel special.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
I nodded, wiping my eyes. “I’ll try. I’m glad you’re here.”
Dad held my hand. “How about ice cream? Like when you were little?”
A small laugh slipped out. “Sounds good.”
Weeks later, I started to heal, bit by bit. One afternoon, I wheeled into my art studio, ready to turn my pain into something new.
As I mixed paints, my phone buzzed with a text from Brynne: “You okay? Need company?”
I smiled, touched. “I’m okay. Painting helps!”
“Love you! Stay strong!”
I dipped my brush in red. A phoenix started to take shape on the canvas.
Mom peeked in. “Zoe? Your dad and I were thinking of ordering food. Any cravings?”
I turned, warmed by her care. “Can we cook dinner together? Like when I was a kid?”
Mom’s face lit up. “I’d love that, sweetie.”
As she left, I smiled at my painting. My heart still hurt, my trust shaken. But I didn’t feel alone.
Later, in the kitchen, the smell of garlic and onions filled the air. Dad chopped veggies, Mom stirred a pot. I shaped dough for homemade bread.
“Remember Sundays like this?” Mom asked, smiling.
I nodded, nostalgic. “Before work took over.”
Dad set down his knife. “Zoe, we’re going to do better. We’ll be here.”
“We’ve missed too much,” Mom added, eyes misty. “We want to make it right.”
My throat tightened. “I want that too,” I whispered.
As we cooked, sharing laughs, I realized the love I’d chased was right here. I just had to see it.
With a broken heart and a canceled wedding, I’m still healing from the betrayal. I’m not fully okay, but I’m grateful Dad saved me from marrying a man who loved my money… not me.
