“My Fiancé Died Three Weeks Before Our Wedding — Months Later, I Followed His Mother and Discovered She Was Attending Someone Else’s Wedding Wearing the Dress I Never Got to Wear”

I had heard it whisper beside me in movie theaters.

I had heard it arguing about cake.

But that was impossible.

I moved closer to the door.

Through the narrow opening, I could see Colleen.

Then the man stepped into view.

My hand flew to my mouth.

Adrian.

Alive.

And he was wearing the same suit he’d bought for our wedding.

I couldn’t move.

For one terrible second, my mind rejected what my eyes were showing me.

“Does everything look okay?” he asked.

Colleen adjusted his tie.

“You look perfect.”

Adrian smiled.

“Good. I don’t want anything going wrong today.”

I stumbled backward before either of them could see

“No.”

“Do you want me to take over?”

I thought about Adrian.

Alive. Smiling.

Getting ready for a wedding while I’d spent three months grieving him.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

I wiped my face and picked up my florist badge.

And suddenly, I knew exactly what I was going to do next — and how I was going to make Adrian regret what he’d done to me.

I stood in front of the mirror for another few seconds.

My hands were still shaking.

Part of me wanted to leave.

Another part wanted to find Adrian and demand an explanation.

But somehow, neither option felt remotely possible anymore.

He had watched me bury him.