The wedding dress hanging on the closet door seemed to watch me with cruel irony. Every hand-sewn bead, every meter of imported French lace, every detail I had chosen myself over the months—all of it represented a dream that, in less than twenty-four hours, would finally come true.
Or should have.
I ran my fingers over the delicate fabric, feeling my heart tighten in my chest. Six years. Six long years with Rafael Almeida, building a life together, sacrificing everything—my dreams, my career, even who I truly was—so that he could shine.
And tomorrow, finally, I would become Mrs. Almeida.
"Elena, are you ready?" My godmother Cláudia's voice echoed from the hallway. "The rehearsal starts in fifteen minutes!"
"I'm coming!" I replied, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. I grabbed my simple bag—no expensive or ostentatious designer items, Rafael always preferred them that way—and took one last look in the mirror. The woman staring back at me was almost unrecognizable from the girl I'd been six years ago. Her once vibrant hair was pulled back in a simple, dull bun. Her makeup was minimal. Her clothes were understated and inexpensive. Nothing to draw attention to.
"It's temporary," I kept reminding myself. "When he's established himself, when his company takes off, everything will be better. We'll be the same."
I walked down the stairs from the small apartment we shared in the more modest part of Valmont. Rafael had already left early—an important meeting, he'd said. There was always an important meeting.
The banquet hall at Santa Valmont Church was decorated with white and gold flowers. A few chairs were already set up, and the priest waited patiently at the altar. My heart skipped a beat when I spotted Rafael near the pulpit, impeccably dressed in his gray suit.
But he wasn't alone.
Sofia.
My stepsister stood beside him, her hand resting gently on his arm, her face tilted upward as she said something that made him smile. That smile that had once been mine alone.
Something cold ran down my spine.
Sofia had always been the family favorite. The perfect daughter from my father's second marriage, pampered and protected by everyone. While I'd worked since I was sixteen, she'd collected expensive courses and international trips. While I'd fought for every penny, she'd received fat allowances and unlimited credit cards.
And now, there she was, at my wedding rehearsal, touching my fiancé.
"Elena!" Claudia's cheerful voice pulled me from my dark thoughts. "Come on, let's get started! You look beautiful!"
I walked toward the altar, each step feeling heavier than the last. Rafael finally looked at me, but the smile he offered me was... different. Distant. Almost guilty.
"Hi, love," I greeted, forcing lightness into my voice. "Sorry I'm late."
"Okay." He kissed my forehead quickly, but his eyes darted away from mine. "Let's get started, shall we? I have another meeting later."
Another meeting. Always.
Sofia remained beside us, showing no intention of sitting down. Her brown eyes shone with something I couldn't decipher. Amusement? Triumph?
"Sofia, aren't you going to sit down?" I asked, trying to remain polite.
"Actually..." Rafael cleared his throat, discomfort evident in every tense muscle in his body. "Elena, we need to talk. Now."
The world around me seemed to slow down.
"Talk? Rafael, we're in the middle of rehearsal..."
"It's important." His voice was firm, but his eyes avoided mine. He took my hand—when was the last time he'd done that?—and pulled me into the church's side garden.
The late afternoon sun in Valmont cast long shadows across the garden's flowers. It was a romantic setting. It should have been perfect. But the knot in my stomach only tightened.
"What's going on?" I asked, my voice weaker than I'd liked.
Rafael ran a hand through his dark hair, a gesture I knew so well—he did it when he was nervous. Finally, he looked at me, and what I saw in those eyes I'd once loved tore me apart.
Pity.
He felt sorry for me.
"Elena... I... we need to postpone the wedding."
The words took a moment to register in my brain.
"Postpone?" I repeated, as if speaking a foreign language. "Rafael, the wedding is tomorrow." The guests have been notified, the buffet is paid for, I...
"Sofia is sick." The words came out quickly, as if he wanted to get them out of the way as quickly as possible. "The doctors... they said she doesn't have much time. Months, maybe."
The world spun.
"What?" My voice was barely a whisper. "But... she's there, she seems..."
"She's hiding it well." Rafael grabbed my shoulders, and I could feel his hands shaking. Or were they mine? "Elena, she has one last wish. Just one. And I... I need to do it for her."
Something in the way he said it, something in his tone, the way he couldn't look me in the eye...
"What wish?" I asked, but a part of me already knew. I already knew, and I wanted to scream, run, disappear before he said the words that would destroy everything.
"She wants to get married, Elena. One last time, before..." He swallowed hard. "And she asked me." You asked me to...
"No." The word came out like a shot. "No, Rafael. No."
"It's just a ceremony!" He spoke quickly, desperately. "Something symbolic, so she can have this experience before... Elena, it's your sister!"
"Half-sister," I corrected, my voice breaking. "And you're telling me you're going to marry her? Tomorrow? On the day that should have been ours?"
"As soon as I do this... as soon as I give her this last gift..." He squeezed my hands, and I realized there were tears in his eyes. Tears for Sofia. Not for me. "I'll come back to you, I promise. We'll reschedule, we'll have our wedding, I..."
I yanked my hands away, pulling away from him as if his touch burned.
"Are you asking me to wait for a secondhand wedding?" Anger began to boil inside me, replacing the shock. "To accept the leftovers after you marry someone else? Her?" "It's not like that! Elena, please try to understand..."
"Understand?" I laughed, but it was a joyless sound, harsh and broken. "Understand that my sister, who always had everything, now wants my fiancé too, and you're just going to... give in?"
"She's dying!" Rafael's voice rose, echoing through the garden. "How can you be so selfish?"
Selfish.
Six years. Six years working two jobs to pay our bills while he built his company. Six years dressing in cheap clothes, giving up everything, hiding who I really was so as not to tarnish his ego. Six years putting his dreams above mine.
And I was the selfish one.
"Six years, Rafael." My voice was calm now, dangerously calm. "I gave you six years of my life. I sacrificed everything. And you... you're going to throw that away for her?"
"I'm not throwing it away!" He reached out, trying to touch my face, but I dodged it. "Elena, listen, it's just a ceremony. No honeymoon, nothing. Just the paper, so she has this memory before—"
"Stop." I held up my hand. "Just... stop."
I needed to get out of there. I needed to breathe. I needed—"
"Elena, please—" Rafael tried to follow me as I turned to go back into the church.
"Don't touch me." The words came out in a faint sound.
When I reentered the hall, all eyes turned to me. Claudia was pale, the priest looked confused, and Sofia...
Sofia was smiling.
It wasn't an obvious smile. It was subtle, just a slight curl of her lips, but it was there. In her eyes, that glow of victory was stronger than ever.
And it was at that moment that I knew.
She wasn't dying. It was all a lie. It had to be. Sofia always got what she wanted, always manipulated everyone around her, always...
"Elena..." Claudia approached, concern etched on her face. "What happened?"
I looked at Rafael, who had entered right behind me, his expression pleading. I looked at Sofia, with her secret smile and triumphant eyes. I looked at the altar, at the white flowers, at the wedding dress I would never wear.
"The wedding is canceled." My voice echoed in the silent hall. "There will be no ceremony tomorrow. At least not with me."
And before anyone could stop me, before Rafael could plead again, before Sofia could fully savor her victory, I walked out of that church.
The sun was setting over Valmont, tinting the sky orange and red.
Colors of fire.
Colors of destruction.
And as I walked through the city streets that had once seemed so familiar, a single certainty burned in my chest:
My life, as I knew it, was over.
But what would come next... that remained to be written.