The moment I saw the invitation, my heart stopped.
I had approved the guest list myself, carefully selecting a mix of close friends, family, and a few colleagues who had supported me throughout my affair with Daniel.
And there it was, hidden among the pastel envelopes—a name that shouldn’t have been there.
Mira Landon.
I hadn’t spoken to her in over a year.
Once my best friend, she had disappeared from my life without explanation.
No arguments, no dramatic breakups — just silence.
And now, somehow, she was invited to my hen party.
At first, I decided it was a mistake.
Perhaps my cousin thought we were still close and added her.
But something bothered me, my intuition whispered that it was more than just an innocent mistake.
The day of the hen party arrived, and I tried to shake off my unease.
My maid of honour, Becca, had put a lot of effort into it — pink and gold balloons, exquisite flower arrangements, a mimosa bar.
Everything was perfect.
Until Mira walked in.
She looked different — thin, pale, almost indecisive.
Our eyes met for a moment, and I saw something flash in her eyes.
Guilt.
I barely had time to realise this before my mother dragged me off to open my presents.
I forced a smile, laughing at the predictable gifts — lingerie from my roommate, a porcelain set from my aunt.
But my thoughts were far away, stuck on Mira’s presence.
When I finally had a moment alone, I found her standing by the window, twirling the stem of her champagne glass.
‘You weren’t invited,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
‘I know,’ she sighed, her voice trembling.
‘I shouldn’t be here.’
I narrowed my eyes.
‘Then why are you here?’
She slowed her breathing.
‘I thought you should know the truth before it was too late.’
My stomach clenched.
‘Mira, what are you talking about?’
She swallowed, then whispered the words that shattered my world.
‘I slept with Daniel.’
I stared at her, my breath caught in my lungs.
A slow, sickening realisation washed over me, making my skin tingle.
‘You’re lying,’ I said, but my voice faltered.
She shook her head.
‘I wish it were a lie.’
Every cell in my body wanted to hit her, yell at her, call her a liar.
But deep down, I already knew.
The late nights.
The sudden business trips.
How Daniel had distanced himself from me in recent months, his affection becoming mechanical.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
‘How long?’
‘Seven months.’
The number hit me like a blow.
Seven months.
More than half a year of deception, of kisses with lips that had touched hers.
I clenched my fists.
‘Why tell me now? Why come here and ruin my hen party?’
Mira’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because I was selfish.
I let it happen and told myself it didn’t mean anything.
But I can’t let you marry him without knowing the truth. “
The worst part?
A small, twisted part of me almost appreciated her honesty.
But that didn’t change what she had done.
I left my own hen party without saying a word.
I couldn’t bear the laughter, the celebration — not when my entire relationship had just fallen apart.
When I got home, Daniel was in the kitchen, sipping a beer as if it were a normal evening.
‘You’re back early,’ he said with a smile.
I threw the invitation on the counter.
‘Mira came.’
His face darkened.
‘What?’
‘She told me everything.’
He didn’t react for a second.
Then, instead of denying it, instead of fighting for us, he sighed.
Like a man caught red-handed.
‘I was going to end it,’ he muttered, running his hand through his hair.
His calm tone made my blood boil.
As if he had simply forgotten to cancel the subscription.
‘You disgust me,’ I spat.
‘Seven months, Daniel? How could you?’
‘I never stopped loving you,’ he said, reaching for me.
‘It was a mistake.’
I took a step back.
‘The mistake is forgetting the anniversary. You made a choice. Every time.’
He had no answer to that.
I grabbed the wedding ring, ripped it off, and put it on the counter.
‘We’re done.’
The next few weeks were a blur of pain, anger, and healing.
I cut off all contact with Daniel and Mira.
I didn’t need an apology.
I didn’t need closure.
I needed to get myself back.
The hardest part wasn’t losing Daniel—it was realising that the person I trusted most had betrayed me in the worst way possible.
But I refused to let their betrayal define me.
Instead of mourning the wedding that would never happen, I did something radical.
I booked a solo trip to Italy — a place I had always wanted to visit but never dared to go alone.
When the plane took off, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Freedom.
