Marry Me Stranger

Marry Me Stranger

Betty Brownson · Ongoing · 42.1k Words

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Introduction

My world was crumbling. “You’re nothing but a bad omen, Ivy. Always have been, always will be,” my stepmother’s words sliced through me.

I stood frozen in my wedding gown, her words pressing down on me like a heavyweight. But today was supposed to be different, wasn’t it? My wedding day. My chance for a fresh start. So why did it feel like everything was falling apart?

Oscar. He was supposed to be my escape, my future. But as I walked down the aisle toward him, ready to start a life filled with love, everything changed.

Just as the pastor asked the question I’d dreamed of hearing, the doors slammed open. A woman in white walked down the aisle—no, not just white, but the same dress as me.

Lily.

She was carrying Oscar’s secret. The one he kept from me.

“She’s pregnant,” he said, the words cutting me like a knife.

The air went cold. My legs buckled. How could this be happening?

But then, a stranger stepped forward. Tall, confident, and looking straight at me. “If he won’t marry you, then marry me.”

What? Who was he? Why was he offering me an escape when everything I knew was falling apart?

I didn’t know what to think, but one thing was clear—my life was no longer my own. Would I say yes to this stranger? Or would I let Oscar’s betrayal destroy me?

Chapter 1

Ivy’s POV

“You’re nothing but a bad omen, Ivy. Always have been, always will be,” my stepmother’s voice sliced through the air, cold and sharp.

I stood frozen in the corner of the room, my wedding gown cascading around me like a pool of silk. The weight of her words pressed against my chest, suffocating me. I wanted to pretend they didn’t hurt, but they did. They always did.

“Do you think wearing that dress makes you special?” she sneered, her eyes narrowing with disdain. “Oscar must be a fool to marry someone as worthless as you.”

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

“Today is my wedding day,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. “You can’t ruin this for me.”

Her laughter rang out, bitter and hollow.

“Ruin it? You’ve already done that yourself. You’re a curse, Ivy. Look what happened to your father. He trusted you, and where did that get him? Six feet under.”

Her words felt like a slap. My throat tightened as I fought back tears. She always used my father’s death as a weapon, a reminder of the love I’d lost. He was my anchor, my only family, and when he died, my world crumbled.

“And now look at you,” she continued, her voice dripping with venom. “Playing dress-up like some fairytale princess. Do you think marrying Oscar will fix everything? Do you think it’ll make you less of a disappointment?”

“Oscar loves me. He sees me for who I am.”I swallowed hard, refusing to let her see me break.

“Poor boy doesn’t know what he’s in for.” Her lips twisted into a cruel smile.

I turned away from her, clutching the edges of my gown. Today wasn’t about her. It was about me and Oscar. It was about leaving this house, this life, and starting fresh.

“It's time now!” One of the ladies dressing me said, and I stood up, walking to the hall.

The chapel was breathtaking. Golden sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the aisle. Guests murmured, their faces turned expectantly toward the doors.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it. My moment.

The music began with a gentle melody that seemed to wrap around me, urging me forward. The doors opened, and all eyes turned to me.

My breath hitched as I stepped into the light. The gown I wore felt heavier now, every step down the aisle laden with the weight of a future I had dreamed of for so long. But my gaze was fixed on Oscar.

He stood at the altar, his dark suit tailored perfectly, his eyes softening as they met mine. For a moment, the world fell away. The whispers, the stares, even the ghost of my stepmother’s cruelty—all of it disappeared.

Oscar smiled, a quiet reassurance that everything would be okay. He was my anchor now. My family.

Each step brought me closer to him, to freedom, to love. The air seemed to hum with anticipation as I reached the altar and stood beside him.

The pastor began his voice with a soothing cadence that I barely heard over the pounding of my heart. I couldn’t stop staring at Oscar, memorizing the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way his lips curved into a soft smile.

But just as the pastor asked the question I had waited my entire life to hear, the doors slammed open behind me.

The sound echoed through the chapel, followed by the sharp click of heels against the floor.

I turned, my heart sinking.

A woman strode down the aisle, her head held high. She was dressed in white. No, not just white—she was wearing my dress.

Panic surged through me as she came closer. My hands trembled at my sides. It couldn’t be.

“Lily?” I breathed, my voice trembling.

She stopped in front of the altar, her hands resting on her stomach in a gesture that made my blood run cold.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, her voice saccharine and sweet, her eyes gleaming with malice. “But there’s something you all need to know.”

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension.

She turned to Oscar, her expression shifting to one of feigned vulnerability. “Tell them, Oscar. Tell them about us.”

The words hit me like a freight train.

“What is she talking about?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Oscar’s face was pale, his jaw tight. He glanced at me, then at Lily.

“She’s pregnant,” he said finally, the words cutting through me like a blade.

The room erupted into gasps and whispers, but all I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat, loud and frantic in my ears.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “This can’t be happening.”

“I’m sorry, Ivy,” Oscar said, his voice strained. “But I can’t marry you.”

I felt the ground shift beneath me, the world spinning out of control. My legs threatened to give out, and I clutched the edge of the altar for support.

Lily stepped closer, her lips curling into a smug smile.

“You’re better off without him,” she said mockingly. “He’s mine now.”

Tears blurred my vision as I stared at Oscar, searching for an explanation, an apology—anything to make this nightmare end.

But before I could process what was happening, a man stepped forward from the crowd.

He was tall, his dark suit immaculate, his presence commanding.

He walked toward me with purpose, his eyes locked onto mine. When he reached me, he knelt, his expression softening.

“If he won’t marry you,” he said, his voice low and steady, “then marry me.”

I blinked, too stunned to speak.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

He didn’t answer, his gaze unwavering.

“Say yes,” he urged, his hand reaching for mine.

My mind raced, my heart pounding in my chest. Nothing made sense anymore. The man I loved had betrayed me. My step-sister had humiliated me. And now, this stranger was offering me a way out.

The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for my response.

But all I could do was stand there, frozen, as the weight of everything came crashing down.

This wasn’t how my story was supposed to go.

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