Ten minutes before the wedding, my fiancé told me to switch grooms. He took my bouquet and shoved it into the hands of his newly divorced childhood sweetheart. "Her ex-husband laughed at her for being unwanted, so I'm letting her stand in as the bride to back her up." Then he pointed at the best man nearby. "It's all just an act anyway. If you're so eager to get married today, then you two can be a couple." We'd been together for ten years, and the wedding date had been changed nine times. This time, he'd even picked the groom for me. When I didn't say anything, he frowned. "It's just for show. I'll still marry you in the end." Looking at the groom's boutonniere pinned to his chest, I didn't want to wait anymore. "Fine." He let out a sigh of relief. "That's more like it. After the ceremony, we'll go get our marriage certificate." But this time, I didn't want to marry him anymore. Since he'd already picked out a groom for me, I'd give him exactly what he wanted.
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