

Chapter 1 of He Carried His First Love, So I Married a Billionaire
Back in our hometown, on the wedding day, the groom is supposed to carry the bride into the bridal home when she steps out of the car.
But the moment our wedding car pulled up at the building, Duane Vance turned to me and said,
"Lori, I've got something to take care of. Wait here in the car for a bit. Four hours, tops."
With that, he bolted toward the unit next door without a second thought.
I leaned out quickly, wanting to ask where he was going.
Instead, I heard one of the groomsmen ribbing him with a laugh,
"Look at you. You're really going to carry Natalie Delgado down the aisle yourself, drop her off at her new place, and then come back?"
"But four hours is way too long. What if Lori gets upset and calls off the wedding?"
Duane laughed it off, unbothered.
"No chance. You think I don't know her? She's soft as a rabbit. Worst she'll do is shed a few tears, and a little coaxing fixes it."
"She's already twenty-nine, no parents, no family name to speak of. Who else would even want her, besides me?"
"Natalie was my first love, after all. We didn't make it to the end, but carrying her to her wedding, seeing with my own eyes that her in-laws will treat her right, that way there's nothing left to regret."
Every word lodged in my throat. I dragged the corners of my mouth up, weakly.
Five years of giving him my whole heart, and it counted for less than a single word from his mouth: regret.
I took out my phone and texted my childhood sweetheart,
"Cloudview Residences, Building 5, Unit 3, out front. Come get me for the wedding."
——
Ten minutes later, Duane came out of the next unit with Natalie on his back.
A few neighbors who'd come out to see what the fuss was about teased them with a smile,
"The groom's here to fetch his bride? Oh my, that embroidered wedding gown is gorgeous. Those have to be real diamonds set into it, right?"
"What a well-matched little couple. Wishing you a long and happy life together."
Duane didn't bother correcting them. He just signaled a groomsman to hand the neighbors a red envelope and smiled.
"Thank you for the kind wishes."
I sat in the car, fingers clenched in the skirt of my own gown.
Bit by bit, my heart went cold.
My best friend, my maid of honor, couldn't stand it. As they passed by our car,
she shoved the door open and snapped,
"Hey, Vance, is your head broken or what? It's your wedding day, and you leave your own fiancée parked in the car while you carry another woman to her wedding?"
"Is her husband disabled or something? Since when is it your job to stick your nose into someone else's business?"
Duane shifted his grip under Natalie's thighs, steadying her higher.
Only once he'd made sure she was comfortable did he turn to explain to me,
"Lori, today's on me, I admit it."
"But it came out of nowhere. Nat's fiancé's wedding car broke down on the way and couldn't make it in time. It's faster if I bring her over myself."
I glanced at the wedding car across from us, the same model as ours.
The kind so in demand you have to book it half a year in advance.
So much for "out of nowhere." The truth was, he just wanted to make up for never getting to marry his first love.
I nodded. "Got it."
Duane froze, as if all the excuses he'd lined up had suddenly caught in his throat.
There was something startled in his eyes.
Natalie, arms looped around his neck, looked me over and smiled,
"Sorry about this, Lori. You finally get to marry Duane, and now you have to wait a little longer because of me. Your gown's nice, it's just a shame it looks a bit old."
"Still, it works out. Gives you time to tidy up all the loose threads and pulled stitches on it, so you don't embarrass Duane later at the ceremony."
Back home, on the wedding day the couple first bows through the formal rites in the bridal home with the officiant presiding, then changes into a wedding dress for the ceremony.
I said nothing, lowering my eyes to my gown.
The truth was, Natalie wasn't wrong. This one was just a last-minute stand-in Duane had dug up that morning.
Some old style, from God knows where.

















