From abandoned girlfriend to tycoon’s lover (Copy)

They always say that love dies in marriage. But honestly? Better for it to die in a fancy grave than be left abandoned in the middle of nowhere.

I spent more than two months sewing non-stop, and finally finished my wedding dress with my own two hands.

When I saw it under the light, its elegance and pure whiteness took my breath away. It shimmered in a way that made my heart flutter.

I couldn’t help but smile even in my sleep, imagining myself walking down the aisle, in that dress, toward the man I loved.

Six years had passed—from nineteen to twenty-five—and finally, my love story was going to have its “happy ending.”

But when I woke up this morning, all that happiness vanished like a dream that never existed.

“María, Mr. Martínez came to the shop this morning and took the wedding dress—did he leave it at your place?” asked Rosa, my assistant, with a puzzled tone.

Still half-asleep and confused, I replied, “Antonio took the dress?”

“Yes… you didn’t know?”

“Give me a second, I’ll ask him.”

I hung up, trying to process why Antonio would take the dress so early. The house was already full of wedding stuff—there wasn’t even space to store the dress. I had planned to pick it up just a day before the ceremony.

I called him, but he didn’t answer. Just as I was about to try again, he called me back.

“Antonio, I was just calling—did you really take the dress?” I asked straight away.

“Yes, I did,” he confirmed, sounding exhausted.

Concerned, I asked, “Is something wrong? Are you sick?”

After a brief silence, he answered indifferently, “María, I hope you won’t be upset… but we have to cancel the wedding.”

I froze. My mind went blank. “Why?”

“Isabel has terminal cancer. The doctors say she only has three months left.”

Shock hit me in waves.

For a second, I thought karma had finally caught up with that viper.

“And what does that have to do with our wedding?”

“Her last wish is to marry me. It would help her pass in peace,” Antonio continued, cutting off my words. “I know it’s asking a lot, but she’s dying. Can’t you be a little compassionate?”

I was so stunned, I thought I’d heard the world’s most ridiculous joke.

After a moment—somewhere between laughing and crying—I replied, “Antonio, are you listening to yourself?”

He remained calm. “I know exactly what I’m saying. I’ve decided to marry Isabel to fulfill her final wish. I know it’s unfair to you, which is why I’m offering fifty percent of the company’s shares in compensation. Please think it over and try to put yourself in my shoes.”

Still numb, I asked, “And if I say no?”

He lost patience. “María, can’t you be a little more understanding? Isabel is your sister—she’s dying. Can’t you grant her this small wish?”

What kind of twisted logic was that?

I couldn’t help but scoff. “If you care that much, are you planning to follow her into the grave once she dies too?”

“Enough—” Antonio paused but didn’t argue.

“Anyway, I already took the dress to the hospital. Isabel has a similar body type. It’ll fit her perfectly.”

Before he could finish, a familiar voice rang out in the background: “Antonio, Isabel just woke up!”

“I’m coming,” he replied urgently. “María, I need your answer soon.”

And he hung up.

That voice? No doubt it was Carmen Gómez—my father’s current wife. My stepmother. Isabel’s mother.

When did they all become such a happy little family?

I sat on my bed, gripping the phone tightly, my heart burning with rage.

What a cruel, cruel joke.