On our wedding night, the moment my dress fell to the floor, everything changed. My husband, Greg, had been eagerly anticipating this night, but what lay underneath my wedding gown was something he wasn’t prepared for. As he stood there, his excitement turned to disbelief and horror.

We had just had what many would call a fairytale wedding. Greg stood proudly at the altar, beaming like he was the luckiest man in the world. But unlike him, I knew the truth about what was to come. While Greg thought this was the beginning of our perfect life, I had my own secret.

At the reception, everything appeared flawless. Guests clinked champagne glasses, laughter echoed across the manicured lawns, and Greg’s parents, proud as ever, played the perfect in-laws. They thought their son had just married the perfect bride. As for me, I smiled, laughed at the right moments, and played the part of the happy wife. I even danced with Greg like everything was just fine.

But Greg didn’t know me as well as he thought he did. He didn’t know what was about to happen. As the night wore on, Greg’s excitement for our wedding night became palpable. His touches lingered, his grin widened, and his anticipation was evident.

Finally, we said our goodbyes, thanked everyone for coming, and made our way upstairs to the master suite. Greg was practically giddy as he led me into the room, a space his parents had generously offered us for our first night together as husband and wife.

Once inside, I could feel the tension shift. His excitement was almost tangible as he approached me, reaching for the zipper of my dress. “I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he whispered, his breath warm against my neck.

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I smiled, a secret smile that he couldn’t see. “Me too,” I said softly. As Greg carefully unzipped my dress, he was so eager, so confident in what was about to happen. But he didn’t have a clue.

When my dress finally fell to the floor, I turned around slowly. The look on his face when he saw what was beneath my gown is something I’ll never forget. He looked like a man whose world had just collapsed. His voice cracked as he whispered, “No, no, no! This can’t be happening!”

What Greg saw was a temporary tattoo of his ex, Sarah, stretching across my torso. Beneath her face were the exact words he had said to her the night before our wedding: “One last taste of freedom before I’m bound to the same body forever.”

His knees buckled as he stared at me in disbelief. “How did you know?” he sobbed, his voice full of regret.

“Sarah made sure I knew,” I replied coldly. “She was all too happy to rub your betrayal in my face.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Greg stammered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it!”

Before he could say more, his parents burst into the room. Marianne’s eyes darted between Greg and me before landing on the tattoo. Her face turned white. “Greg? Is this true?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Greg couldn’t answer. He stood frozen, unable to face what he had done.

I didn’t wait for him to speak. “He slept with Sarah the night before our wedding,” I said, my voice cutting through the room. “He told her he needed one last taste of freedom before he was bound to me forever.”

Marianne collapsed onto the bed, her world falling apart as her son’s betrayal came to light. James, Greg’s father, stood by, fury simmering beneath his stoic expression. “You’ve disgraced this family,” he growled, his voice low and full of anger.

Greg’s tear-streaked face turned toward me, pleading. “Please, Lilith, don’t leave me. I love you. I’ll do anything to fix this.”

But it was too late. I had already made my decision. “You don’t know the first thing about love, Greg,” I said. “This is over.”

And with that, I turned away, leaving Greg to deal with the mess he had made. I walked down the stairs, each step feeling lighter. I was free—free from his lies, his betrayal, and the life I thought we were going to have.