From Brokenness to Bliss: My Peaceful Choice

Isla Simmons's POV

The moment I read that anonymous card, my life instantly collapsed. It brought not wedding blessings, but Harding's lies.

It was the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding. My bridesmaids and close friends were sitting around the table. My fiancé, Harding, the man I had loved for eight years, was at another table discussing business with his parents.

As for my maid of honor, Camilla, she was supposedly unable to attend due to a sudden business trip.

"Alright, Madam Bride!" bridesmaid Sarah excitedly held up a beautifully decorated box. "Everyone wrote a blessing card for you. Let's see what advice they have to pass on!"

Smiling, I reached into the box and pulled out a thick white card. I thought it would be sweet words, but as my eyes swept over the text, my smile instantly froze.

"He and she have been secretly sleeping around behind your back for four years."

Right below it was a line: "Your maid of honor."

Camilla.

That was my childhood best friend, the "sister" I had entrusted my life to.

A freezing terror seeped into my bones. This had to be a prank. With sweating palms, I eagerly pulled out a second, light blue card.

"The engagement ring he gave you? He actually bought it for Camilla first. But four years ago, she rejected him, saying she wasn't ready for marriage. You are just his backup."

I instinctively touched my left ring finger. It turned out Harding had taken the ring Camilla didn't want and pretended to carefully select it for me.

I hurriedly pulled out a third, cream-colored card, trying to find evidence to refute this.

"Remember your anniversary trip in college? You found suspicious texts on Harding's phone and cried in the bathroom for hours. He wasn't chatting with a client then; he was in the hotel room right next to yours, celebrating his one-month anniversary with Camilla."

The shame and pain of the past surged over me. That night, he comforted me as I cried, making me believe it was a misunderstanding.

With trembling hands, I pulled out the last card, a thick, dark green one.

"Camilla isn't on a business trip. She is at the 'Serenity Postpartum Retreat Center.' She just gave birth to Harding's child a week ago. They want to wait until your wedding is over to go public. Surprise."

My world completely overturned. They even had a child behind my back!

I felt like I had fallen into an ice cave. I stared at the handwriting on the green card; it was Harding's mother, Karen Frank. His entire family was involved in this scam.

Eight years of dedication and compromise were nothing but a carefully woven joke. I took off that piece of trash that belonged to Camilla and threw it hard onto the table. The diamond hit a wine glass with a sharp clink.

The surrounding conversations stopped. Everyone looked over in shock. Harding looked up, a smile still hanging on his face.

I walked toward him. "Harding, what is Camilla Gillespie to you?"

His smile instantly vanished. He glanced at his mother, then at me. "Isla, what are you talking about?"

I held up the green card. "I'm talking about your child, Harding. The one born just last week."

The air froze. Harding's face turned deathly pale, and Karen gasped. The relatives who were just laughing a moment ago now mostly stood with their mouths hanging open, and some even wore knowing smirks.

I immediately shouted, "I announce that this wedding is canceled!"

Harding walked over to the table, picked up the ring, and spoke in a low voice, "Isla, don't be so dramatic. We can postpone the wedding and solve this problem. Don't make a scene here."

"Solve what?" I sneered. "Solve you cheating with my best friend for four years, or your whole family helping you hide the truth?"

He finally looked at me. There was no remorse in his eyes, only shrewd calculation. "It's complicated. Camilla is very fragile right now; she needs my support."

"She's fragile?" I raised my voice. "What about me? What about my eight years, my dignity!"

"You're strong, Isla. But Camilla has been through a lot, having a baby, keeping secrets..." He defended her casually.

My hand swung out before my brain could process it. With a loud, crisp slap, Harding's face was violently thrown to the side, a red mark surfacing.

He didn't fight back, but his eyes turned dark. "You think getting physical changes anything? Camilla is pregnant with my child. And you... are just you."

My rage was instantly replaced by despair. In his eyes, I was just a convenient alternative.

"We are done." I turned and walked away.

"Isla, please, we can talk about this!" he shouted from behind, his tone still carrying that self-righteous desire for control.

I ignored him. Walking past the flowers and tables I had spent months meticulously arranging, every detail now felt like a cruel joke.

As I reached the door, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Camilla:

"Isla, I'm so sorry! My business trip got suddenly extended. So sad I can't attend your big day! I'll contact you when I'm back!"

I stared at the screen and typed a reply:

"Enjoy your postpartum confinement. I hope the baby is healthy. Harding will be by your side to support you; he's really good at that."

Hitting send, I blocked Camilla, Harding, Karen—blocked all of them, completely.