**Diary Entry**
Oliver married Natalie deliberately—to hurt Emily. He wanted to prove he wasn’t broken after her betrayal…
Emily and I had been together nearly two years. I loved her madly, would’ve moved mountains for her, shaped my whole life around her dreams. I thought we were headed for marriage. But her constant dodging whenever I brought it up grated on me.
*”Why rush into marriage now? I haven’t even finished uni, and your business is barely scraping by. You don’t have a decent car or your own place. And honestly, I refuse to share a kitchen with your sister. If you hadn’t sold that house, we’d be fine.”* That was her usual reply.
It stung, but I couldn’t deny there was truth in it. My sister Olivia and I lived in our parents’ old flat, the business was just finding its feet, and I was still finishing my degree. I had to step up early. The house? We sold it—Olivia and I agreed. It was the only way to save our parents’ business.
In six months, debts piled high, and we were still students. The sale cleared everything, restocked the shop, even left a little reserve. Emily, though? She believed in living for today, not some uncertain tomorrow. Easy to say when your parents foot the bill for everything. But I’d grown up overnight—responsibilities to Olivia, the business, keeping life afloat. I told myself it’d get better. A house, a car, a garden.
No warning of what was coming.
We’d agreed to meet at the cinema. Emily insisted I not pick her up—she’d meet me there. I waited at the stop, then saw her step out of a luxury car. She handed me a book.
*”I’m sorry. We can’t be together anymore. I’m getting married.”* Then she turned back to the car.
I froze. What could’ve changed in the few days I’d been away? Back home, Olivia took one look at me and understood.
*”You know already?”*
I nodded.
*”She’s marrying some rich bloke. Asked me to be a bridesmaid—I refused. She’s a cheat! She was seeing him behind your back—”*
I hugged Olivia, ruffling her hair. *”Let her be happy. We’ll be happier.”*
Then I locked myself in my room for a day. Olivia banged on the door. *”At least eat something. I made pancakes.”*
By sunset, I stormed out, eyes burning. *”We’re getting ready.”*
*”For what? What’s gotten into you?”*
*”I’m marrying the first woman who says yes,”* I said coldly.
*”Don’t be daft! This isn’t just your life!”* Olivia tried to stop me. Useless.
*”Come with me or don’t. I’m going.”*
The park was packed. One girl tapped her temple at me. Another bolted. But a third—she met my gaze and said yes.
*”What’s your name, love?”*
*”Natalie.”*
*”Drinks to celebrate the engagement!”* I dragged her and Olivia to a café.
The table was awkwardly silent. Olivia fumbled for words. My mind? Boiling with revenge. I’d make sure our wedding was on the twenty-fifth too.
*”I assume there’s a reason you proposed to a stranger,”* Natalie finally said. *”If it was impulsive, I’ll walk away. No hard feelings.”*
*”No. You gave your word. Tomorrow we file the papers, then meet your parents.”*
I winked. *”And let’s drop the formalities.”*
The month before the wedding, we met daily, talked, learned each other.
*”Will you tell me why you did it?”* Natalie asked once.
*”Everyone’s got skeletons,”* I deflected.
*”As long as they don’t bury us.”*
*”Why’d you say yes?”*
*”Felt like a princess handed off to the first suitor. Fairy tales always end well—‘happily ever after.’ Wanted to test it myself.”*
Truth was, it wasn’t that simple. A past love left her heartbroken, swindled out of savings. But it taught her to read people. Suitors swarmed—she scared them off with a look.
She wasn’t hunting for perfection, just a man who was sharp, independent, and decisive. In me, she saw determination, a serious work ethic. If I’d been with mates instead of Olivia, she’d have walked right past.
*”So who are you, princess?”* I mused. *”Sad-eyed Vasilisa? The frog princess?”*
*”One kiss, and you might find out,”* she smiled.
But there were no kisses. Nothing more.
I handled every wedding detail. Natalie just picked from my shortlists. Even the dress and veil—I bought them.
*”You’ll be the most beautiful,”* I kept saying.
At the registry office, we bumped into Emily and her fiancé. I forced a grin.
*”Congratulations,”* I kissed her cheek. *”Hope you and your walking wallet are happy.”*
*”Don’t make a scene,”* she hissed.
She eyed Natalie—regal, stunning, not just pretty but striking. Emily lost on every front. Jealousy clawed at her. She didn’t look happy.
I turned to Natalie. *”It’s fine,”* I muttered.
*”We can still walk away,”* she whispered.
*”No. We see this through.”*
Only in the registry hall, seeing my new wife’s sad eyes, did I grasp what I’d done.
*”I’ll make you happy,”* I vowed, almost believing it.
Married life began. Olivia and Natalie bonded—balanced each other. Impulsive Olivia learned restraint; Natalie ran the household seamlessly.
A whiz with numbers, she fixed our finances. In six months, we opened a second shop, then hired contractors—selling building supplies turned into full renovations. Profits soared.
She was the real Vasilisa the Wise—presented ideas so well I thought they were mine. Everything was smooth. But I missed the dizzy highs I’d had with Emily. Now? Stable. Predictable. *”Routine,”* I thought. *”Quicksand. I hate it.”*
Natalie pushed us into building turnkey homes. Our first project? Our own house.
The better things got, the more I dwelled on Emily. *”Couldn’t wait, could you? Look at my car now. The house—not a house, a palace!”* Pride curdled into bitterness. *”What if…?”*
Natalie saw my torment. She wanted love, but hearts don’t obey orders. *”Not all fairy tales end well,”* she thought, but hope lingered—her name demanded it.
Olivia watched me too.
*”You’ll lose more than you gain,”* she snapped, catching me on Emily’s social media.
*”Back off.”*
*”You’re a fool. Natalie loves you, and you’re playing games.”*
*”Like I need a child lecturing me,”* I fumed. Emily’s pull grew stronger. I messaged her.
Emily complained—her marriage failed. Her husband left her penniless. Dropped out of uni. No steady job, couldn’t face her parents, rented a flat in Manchester.
I wavered. *”Go or stay?”* Then Natalie left to visit her sick gran.
I arranged a meet. Sped toward Manchester, ignoring road signs. Heart pounding, picturing speeches, grand gestures.
Reality hit hard.
*”Look at you!”* Emily lunged at me.
The stench of unwashed skin made me recoil. *”People are staring.”*
*”Who cares?”* She laughed.
Short skirt, cheap makeup, knock-off perfume. This vulgar woman wasn’t the Natalie I knew. *”Was she always like this? How didn’t I see it?”* I watched her down cheap lager, repulsed.
*”Lend me some cash? I’ll make it worth your while.”* She winked.
I needed an exit.
*”Sorry—things to do.”* I stood.
*”See you again?”*
*”Doubt it.”* I flagged the waiter. *”Bill, please.”*
*”I’m staying,”* she whined.
*”She’s covered within this.”* I slid over a fifty.
The waiter nodded.
I raced home.
*”What an idiot,”* I cursed myself. *”Olivia was right. Why’d I do this? Then again… maybe it wasn’t for nothing.”*
*”I haven’t called Natalie ‘my wife’ even once. No one’s closer to me.”* The realisation braked my thoughts. I sat five minutes, replaying our years together.
Natalie’s face—bright”And as we stood there in the golden light of her grandmother’s garden, I knew—this was my happily ever after.”
