Two weeks before I was supposed to say “I do,” I found out my fiancé was living a double life.But it wasn’t just the affair that broke me. What I discovered after that made me understand something much worse. He had never loved me at all. I didn’t wake up that day expecting anything strange.If anything, I felt calm. Light. Hopeful. You know that rare morning when everything feels lined up just right? Like the world finally stopped fighting you for a second? That was me. I was 29 years

I went to city hall, my heart pounding, ready to marry the love of my life. But the words I heard there froze me cold. “Sir, according to our records… you’re already married,” the clerk said. I blinked. My mind stalled. “What? That’s impossible. I’ve never—ever—been married.” Her eyes were sympathetic but firm. “I’m just telling you what the system says, sir. There’s a certificate here. You were legally married two years ago.” Two years ago. That was right before I met Clara. Right before life started to make sense

I’m Laura. I’m 40 years old, and I work as a cashier in a small neighborhood grocery store. It’s not what I dreamed of when I was a kid. I didn’t imagine myself standing on my feet for eight hours, listening to beeps and freezer hums, asking the same questions over and over. But it pays the bills. Mostly. And at this stage of life, “mostly” is better than nothing. When you stand behind a register long enough, you start learning things about people without meaning to. You learn the