After My Husband Abandoned Our Wedding Vows

I smoothed down the white satin of my wedding dress for the fifth time, checking my watch again. The marriage registry office was quieter today than I expected, with just a handful of couples waiting for their ceremonies. Every time the door opened, my heart leapt—only to sink again when it wasn't Hunter.

"Mrs. Armstrong?" The clerk approached me with a sympathetic smile that made my stomach clench. "I'm afraid we'll need to reschedule if your husband doesn't arrive within the next fifteen minutes."

"He'll be here," I said, more to convince myself than her. "He's just... held up."

The words tasted bitter on my tongue. How many times had I said them before? How many times had I made excuses for him?

I checked my phone again. No messages. No calls. Just the same silence that greeted me every time Hunter chose Violeta over me.

The young couple beside me exchanged glances, their eyes darting to my dress, then quickly away. They were trying not to stare, but I knew what they saw: a woman in a wedding dress, abandoned at the altar. Again.

"Mrs. Armstrong," the clerk said gently, "we really can't hold the appointment any longer."

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Five times. Five times we'd scheduled this ceremony to renew our marriage certificate—a formality Hunter had insisted was important for his business dealings abroad. Five times he'd promised this one would be different.

And five times, Violeta had found a way to pull him away.

"I understand," I managed to say, gathering my purse with trembling hands. "Please call me if he comes in."

I walked out with my head high, but inside I was crumbling. The Uber driver didn't ask why a woman in a wedding dress was riding alone, but his eyes in the rearview mirror said everything.

* * *

Our house was quiet when I arrived home, but not empty. I could hear voices from the living room—Hunter's deep murmur and Violeta's breathless, dramatic tones.

I paused in the hallway, my wedding dress rustling softly against the wall.

"Hunter, I couldn't breathe," Violeta was saying, her voice trembling perfectly. "If you hadn't come when you did..."

"You know I'll always come when you need me," Hunter replied, his tone tender in a way it rarely was with me anymore.

I stepped into the doorway. Hunter was kneeling beside our sofa, where Violeta lay draped dramatically across the cushions, her hand pressed to her chest. Her eyes widened when she saw me, but there was no surprise there—only calculation.

"Jade," Hunter said, straightening up. "You're back early."

Early. As if I'd left a party instead of being abandoned at our marriage ceremony.

"The appointment was canceled," I said flatly. "Again."

Something flickered across Hunter's face—guilt, perhaps, but it vanished quickly. "Violeta had another panic attack. You know how serious they can be."

Yes, I knew. Every time we had plans, every time Hunter had promised to put