My name’s Tessa, and at 35, I was thrilled to be engaged to Jared, planning our dream wedding. We met two years ago at a party, instantly clicking over wine and laughter. Dating him was effortless—shared values, humor, and kindness. His Christmas proposal felt perfect, and wedding prep only brought us closer, despite warnings about stress.
But a week before the wedding, Jared grew distant, cagey about his bachelor trip. I brushed it off as nerves until I ran into his groomsman, Dylan, who mentioned a “closure trip” with Jared’s ex, Miranda, in Cancún—not the hiking trip he’d claimed. Shocked, I played along, learning details that confirmed the betrayal.
The next morning, I confronted Jared at the airport with my college ex, Liam, by my side. We’d planned a fake “closure trip” to Cabo for symmetry. Jared was stunned, but Liam and I boarded a real flight. In Cabo, we reconnected deeply, and what started as revenge became real. Six months later, Liam proposed, and we married in spring. Jared’s email later—“Guess your closure worked”—was the final note. It sure did.
