Replaced Bride: I Chose a New Groom at the Altar

The day we went to pick up the engagement ring, my fiancé told the clerk to return the three-carat stone I'd been waiting six months for.

I spun around. "What are you doing? The wedding is tomorrow."

Derek picked up a plain silver band worth a few dollars from the counter and held it out to me.

"We'll use this one tomorrow. I'm returning the diamond."

I stared at him. "Our families are joining in marriage, and you want me to wear a ring that costs a few dollars? Derek, what the hell is this?"

Derek frowned, all righteous indignation. "That student I've been sponsoring is coming to the ceremony tomorrow. She has a real chip on her shoulder about wealth—hates anything that looks extravagant."

"If she sees a diamond that big, she'll think we're flaunting our money. It'll make her uncomfortable."

"Marriage is just a formality. If you really loved me, you'd wear a soda tab and be happy about it. Can you stop being so materialistic?"

I froze. All I saw in his eyes was protectiveness—for another woman.

The sales clerks exchanged awkward glances. I took a breath, tossed the silver band into the trash, and pointed at the diamond ring.

"I'll take the diamond."

"And change the engraving inside from Z to H."

Derek froze. "Who is H?"

I looked at him coldly. "A childhood friend. Since you care so much about your little protégée, don't bother showing up tomorrow. I'll find a new groom."

Derek watched me toss that cheap silver band into the trash without a second thought.

The self-righteousness on his face finally cracked.

His brow furrowed—disbelief and anger warring in his eyes.

"Natalie, when did you become so unreasonable?"

"I'm just asking you to be considerate. Do you have to make a scene?"

I stared at his reddening face.

"Be considerate of her, so I have to sacrifice my wedding?"

"Derek, if you don't want this marriage, just say so. Don't hide behind some other woman to push me out."

Derek took a deep breath, visibly fighting to contain his fury.

"Who is H? Are you making this up just to force my hand?"

He searched my face for any crack in my composure.

I had no desire to argue. I turned to the clerk, who was practically trembling beside us.

"Do as I said. Once it's done, send it to West Hill Villa."

When Derek realized I was done talking to him, his face went dark.

He let out a cold laugh and fished the silver band from the trash.

"Fine, Natalie. You've gotten bold."

"I'd love to see who else is going to show up at your wedding tomorrow."

He turned and stormed out.

As his figure disappeared through the door, a spasm seized my stomach.

The pain doubled me over, both hands pressing hard against my abdomen.

A saleswoman rushed over to steady me.

I waved her off, straightened up, and walked out.

I drove straight to the bridal boutique downtown.

The dress had been ordered six months ago—hand-embroidered, worth three million.

I pushed open the door. The display window where my dress should have been was empty.

The manager approached, looking uncomfortable.

"Miss Langford, Mr. Whitmore called an hour ago and canceled the dress."

I stood frozen. It felt like all the blood had drained from my body.

The manager pointed to a dated, slightly yellowed rental dress in the corner.

"Mr. Whitmore said to use this one instead."

I stared at that cheap synthetic dress.

Five years ago, when Derek was just starting out, we'd squeezed into a basement apartment eating instant noodles.

He'd held me and promised that one day I'd wear the most beautiful wedding dress in the world.

Now he'd made it—and he was canceling my dress.

"Why?" My voice came out hoarse.

The manager mumbled, unable to meet my eyes.

"Mr. Whitmore said Miss Shaw feels that wearing something worth millions is... morally wrong."

"He said this rental better reflects your genuine love through thick and thin."

I laughed—bitter, furious—while my eyes burned with unshed tears.

Just then, the fitting room curtain swept open.

Megan Shaw walked out in a brand-new Chanel couture dress—current season.

She saw me and immediately put on a startled expression, stepping back.

Derek followed right behind her, holding a pair of diamond-studded heels.

His expression went cold the moment he saw me.

Megan tugged at Derek's sleeve, eyes reddening on cue.

"Natalie, please don't blame Derek. I'm the one who thought the dress was too extravagant."

"True love doesn't need material things to prove it."

I looked at the couture dress draped over her body. The absurdity was staggering.

"So your idea of 'immaterial' is wearing a dress my fiancé bought for hundreds of thousands, while I'm supposed to wear secondhand rags?"

Derek hurled the heels onto the sofa.

"Natalie! Watch your mouth!"

"Megan's giving a speech tomorrow. She represents the students I sponsor. What's wrong with her looking presentable?"

"You're an heiress. Do you really need to be this petty with a girl who has nothing?"

He strode up to me, eyes full of theatrical disappointment.

"Apologize to Megan. Now."