200K Substitute Bride: My Fiancée's Regret Spiral

At my own wedding, I find out the woman behind the veil isn't even the one I'm supposed to be marrying. Instead of getting mad, I give her the wedding of the century.

It's all because of what happened in my past life. I'd exposed that she wasn't my bride in front of everyone and blew up the whole ceremony.

That forced Jessie Clarke, who'd been at the hospital with her childhood sweetheart, Oliver Grant, to rush over reluctantly so we could still get married.

Because of that, Oliver refused treatment and died on the operating table.

When I heard he was gone, I told Jessie she should see him one last time, but she refused.

All she said was, "Blame it on his bad luck."

After we got married, we acted just as in love as before. I kept getting money from my family to save her company every time it was on the verge of collapse.

But on the anniversary of Oliver's death, Jessie shoved me off the top floor of her company. I hit the ground hard enough to end up a broken, bloody mess.

As I fell, I caught one last look at her face, streaked with tears.

"If you hadn't forced me back to marry you, Oliver wouldn't have died! You get to keep me, but I lost him for good! Why do you get to live a happy life?"

So that was it. She'd blamed me for Oliver's death from the start. She'd never loved me at all.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at our wedding ceremony.

"Jessie Clarke, do you take this very handsome man beside you to be your husband, for better or worse, for richer or poorer?"

"I do," Mabel Jones said, her voice slightly muffled behind the veil.

The guests swooned, convinced that the Clarke heiress was so madly in love with me that not even a nasty cold could stop the wedding of the century. To them, it seemed she was determined not to offer me anything less than absolute perfection.

"Hang on," I said.

Mabel's gaze flicked away as tiny beads of sweat gathered along her forehead beneath the veil.

"Jessie, you look pale. Are you tired?" I asked with a smile.

Mabel cleared her throat nervously. "Yeah, I..."

I signaled for the officiant to pause the ceremony and guided her toward the lounge.

My phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with more than a dozen unread messages from Oliver Grant.

"You figured out the bride is fake, right? Was it surprising? Jessie and I are watching the livestream of your wedding."

He'd even attached a photo. Jessie was leaning on his shoulder like she belonged there, looking completely at ease.

"And by the way, the whole thing was my idea. She planned this wedding as a little game for my entertainment."

I shot off a quick reply. "Yeah? Want to bet one call from me and she'd dump you and come