Just days before our wedding, I found Lucas sobbing in the garage, clutching a tiny jacket he claimed belonged to a lost brother. His story unraveled everything I thought I knew, leading me to a choice I never expected.
Two years ago, Lucas proposed on a crisp autumn morning, his hands trembling as he offered a ring and a promise of “forever, Lila.” I said yes, my heart soaring. But forever kept slipping away. Excuses piled up—tight finances, bad weather, a cousin’s surgery, even “the date’s not right.” Each delay chipped at my hope, but this time, our wedding was set: venue booked, invitations mailed. Lucas’s father, Hank, even urged him, “Don’t lose her, son.”
That morning, Lucas seemed happy, flipping waffles and kissing my cheek. But by afternoon, he was distant, staring out windows, his jaw tight. That night, a faint sound woke me—soft, choked sobs. I pulled on Lucas’s flannel, its pine-and-soap scent familiar, and followed the glow from the garage.
There, Lucas sat on the cold floor, sobbing, clutching a small blue jacket. His shoulders shook, his face streaked with tears. “Lucas?” I whispered.
He looked up, eyes raw. “It’s his,” he said, voice breaking. “My brother’s. Caleb’s.”
I froze. “Your brother?”
He nodded, clutching the jacket. “He was six. We were playing by the creek. I dared him to cross a rickety bridge. I was supposed to hold his hand… but I didn’t.” His voice cracked. “He fell.”
I sat beside him, the concrete chilling my legs. “You never told me.”
“It’s forbidden in my family,” he said. “After the accident, we erased him. Like he never existed.”
His pain filled the silence. “I found this jacket in Dad’s shed today,” he continued. “It brought it all back. Caleb and I promised to be best men at each other’s weddings. Marrying you… it feels like leaving him behind.”
I took his hand, my heart aching. “Come to bed,” I said softly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
The next morning, Lucas stirred his coffee endlessly, eyes distant. “I need to push the wedding back,” he murmured. “The dreams… they’re back.”
My spoon clattered. “Again?” I asked, sharper than intended. His tears welled, and I softened, kissing his forehead. “Okay,” I said, though doubt gnawed at me.
That afternoon, I drove to his parents’ farm, hoping to ease his burden. His mother, Ellen, greeted me with lemonade. “We’re postponing the wedding,” I said gently. “Lucas is struggling with Caleb’s memory.”
Ellen frowned. “Caleb? Lucas never had a brother.”
My world tilted. I sped home, heart pounding. No brother. No accident. What was the jacket? I found Lucas on the couch, the TV flickering. “No brother?” I asked, voice steady.
His eyes widened, fear flashing—not of being caught, but of something deeper. “Lila, I—”
“Was it all a lie?” I pressed. “The tears, the jacket, Caleb?”
He slumped. “I panicked,” he admitted. “The wedding pressure, everyone’s expectations… I wasn’t ready. I made it up.”
“You invented a dead brother?” My voice shook. “I gave you time, trust, everything. And you lied.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m ready now, I swear.”
But his words felt hollow. I nodded, planning my next step.
The church smelled of roses and polished oak. Lucas stood at the altar, hands clasped, eyes searching for me. Guests whispered as the music stayed silent. I stepped forward—not in a wedding gown, but my favorite green dress, the one that felt like home.
Murmurs rippled. Ellen’s eyes widened from the front row. Lucas’s face lit up, then faltered as I spoke. “There’s no wedding today,” I said clearly. “I needed you to want this as much as I did. But all you gave me was lies.”
“Lila, please—” he stammered, reaching out.
“I gave you years, trust, and grace,” I said. “Now I give you goodbye.”
I turned, heels clicking on the aisle, and walked through the open doors into sunlight, feeling freer than ever.