Eight Years as His Second Choice

During the vows, my fiancé looked past me with reddened eyes and called out another woman's name.

"Jean..."

I froze. My gaze followed his, drifting to someone standing behind me.

The one that got away—the woman who'd abandoned him all those years ago—had come back. No one knew when she'd returned.

She stood there in a white wedding gown, and on her ring finger sat a pull-tab ring identical to the one on mine.

Their eyes locked, both glistening with tears, like star-crossed lovers reunited after years apart.

The officiant scrambled to smooth things over.