When Lawrence presented me with an extravagant diamond necklace on our wedding day, I thought it was merely an excessive gift. Little did I know his “symbol of love” was actually hiding his cruel secret…

I woke up in my bridal suite with butterflies in my stomach. At 35, I wasn’t some starry-eyed young bride, but today felt different. My wedding dress hung by the window, catching the morning light.

I smiled as I stood and went straight to it, running my fingers along the delicate fabric and taking a moment to breathe before the chaos began.

Right on cue, the door burst open. My bridesmaids poured in with my mother and my sister, Emily, close behind.

“The hair stylist will be here in 20 minutes,” my mother announced, checking her watch.

Emily placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “How are you feeling, Kath?”

“Nervous. Happy. Ready,” I replied, though I wasn’t entirely sure about the last part.

The room quickly filled with chatter as everyone busied themselves with preparations.

Hours later, amid the commotion, one of my bridesmaids, Lily, approached me timidly.

“Umm, Kathryn…” she said, her voice soft and quick. “Lawrence is asking to see you. He said it is really important…”

I frowned. “Before the ceremony? Doesn’t he know that’s bad luck?”

“He was weirdly intense about it,” Lily said, twisting her hands. “He said he’s got something special for you.”

Emily caught my eye across the room, her eyebrow raised in question. Something in my gut tightened, and although I couldn’t understand why yet, at my age, I’d learned to trust that feeling.

“Mom, guys, could you give us a minute?” I still asked.

My mother herded the bridesmaids out of the room, but Emily lingered.

“Want me to stay?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Could you grab me some tea? Some chamomile might calm my nerves.”

Emily hesitated before giving me a quick hug. “Get him out of here quickly. It’s definitely bad luck,” she said, half-teasing, half-serious.

Then, she slipped out, closing the door behind her.

Lawrence entered almost immediately. I immediately noticed his eyes, which held a strange intensity that made me uneasy.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to see me yet,” I replied.

“I know, I know. This will take just a minute,” he said and produced a red velvet box from behind his back. “I wanted to give you this. Open it.”

I took the box, smiling, and slowly lifted the lid. Inside sat a diamond necklace so large and flashy that I gasped. The stones caught the light and threw rainbows across the walls.

It was beautiful… but it was not me.

“Lawrence, this is…” I struggled to find the right words while trying to maintain my smile. “It’s too much.”

“Nonsense. You’ll look amazing in it, and you deserve something this grand today. It’s a symbol of my love,” he insisted, taking the necklace from the box. “Promise me you’ll wear it during the ceremony?”

He sounded off, and that gut feeling I’d had before came back. This necklace wasn’t my style at all. I preferred simple, elegant pieces. Lawrence knew this. Or I thought he did.

“I appreciate the gesture, love, truly. But this necklace… it’s not me,” I confessed hesitantly.

His face hardened for a split second before melting into a pleading smile. “Please, Kathryn. It would mean everything to me to show your family that I’ll treat you like you deserve. That I can afford to. Just this once, I swear.”

I hesitated but nodded. “Of course, love.”

Relief washed over his face as he fastened the heavy necklace around my neck. The diamonds felt cold and heavy against my skin. I hated it, but he looked pleased.

“Perfect,” he whispered, kissing my cheek. “I’ll see you at the altar.”

After he left, I stood in front of the mirror. The necklace was too overwhelming, and it felt wrong against me.

Why?

My fingers automatically went under the diamonds to the burn scar on my collarbone. I’d gotten it after a terrible childhood kitchen accident, and I couldn’t help but realize that these big diamonds covered it completely.

Something about that realization had my gut clenching again, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. And just a few minutes later, Emily burst into the room, panting and wild-eyed.

“You can’t marry him!” she gasped, her face pale. Her finger rose to point at my neck. “That necklace is not just a gift. I know everything.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked quietly, looking at her in horror.

“I was coming back with your tea when I heard Lawrence talking to his best man in the hallway right outside the groom’s suite. They didn’t see me.” Emily’s hands trembled as her words rushed out. “He said, and I quote, ‘She swallowed the bait. Now nobody will see that ugly scar.'”

The air left my lungs. “What?”

“That slimy, two-faced weasel was laughing about it! The necklace isn’t a gift. It’s to hide your scar because he’s ashamed of it.” Emily’s voice shook with rage. “That’s not all. He was gloating about marrying into our family, about the connections Dad could give him, despite your ‘flaw.’ His words.”

The room spun around me as I plopped on a chair near the window.

Suddenly, I understood the feeling in my gut and all the little moments with Lawrence made sense—the way he subtly guided my wardrobe choices, his keen interest in my father’s business connections, and how he always steered me away from low-neck dresses that revealed my scar.

“Are you absolutely sure that’s what he said?” I asked quietly.

“Kath, I wouldn’t make this up. Not today.” Emily’s eyes brimmed with tears. “He doesn’t love you. He loves what you can give him. What our family can give him.”

I stood slowly and looked out the window, the weight of the necklace suddenly unbearable.

Through the glass, I could see the garden, where rows of white chairs awaited our guests. The flower arrangements I’d spent months planning. The altar where I was supposed to pledge my life to a man who had lied to me all this time.

“What are you going to do?” Emily asked.

As I took a deep breath, a calm clarity settled in me. Not the kind that comes from naivety, but the kind that comes from knowing exactly who you are and what you deserve.

“I’m going to marry him,” I said, turning to face my sister.

“What? Did you hear anything I just said?” Emily’s voice rose in disbelief.

“I’m going to walk down that aisle,” I continued, “wearing this necklace. And then I’m going to make sure everyone knows exactly who Lawrence really is.”

Emily’s face slowly transformed from shock to understanding. A small, fierce smile spread across her lips. “I’ve always said you were the smartest of us all.”

An hour later, I walked down the aisle. The music swelled, guests stood, and Lawrence waited at the altar, a triumphant smile on his face when he spotted the glittering necklace around my neck.

When I reached him, the officiant began his traditional speech. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Kathryn and Lawrence in holy matrimony…”

Lawrence took my hands in his, his thumbs rubbing circles on my palms. A few hours ago, I would’ve thought it was a comforting, loving gesture. Now, I knew it was all part of his manipulation.

“Marriage is a sacred bond,” the officiant continued, “a commitment made in honesty and love.”

I looked into Lawrence’s eyes. Did he see me at all? Or just the doors I could open for him?

“Do you, Kathryn, take Lawrence to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?” the officiant asked.

A hush fell over the gathering. Lawrence squeezed my hands slightly, his smile confident.

Instead of answering, I let go of his hands and reached up, unclasping the necklace. It fell to the ground with a clatter that echoed in the sudden silence.

“I can’t do this,” I said loudly as I turned to the gathered guests. “I refuse to marry a man who is ashamed of me, the real me. A man, who sees me as a prize to be won.”

Lawrence’s face drained of color. “Kathryn, what are you talking about?”

“Ask him why he really gave me this necklace,” I said to my family and friends, pointing to the ground. “Ask him what he wanted to cover up, and then ask him what he hoped to gain from marrying into my family.”

Lawrence tried to take my hand. “Darling, please. You’re just nervous. Let’s talk about this privately.”

I stepped back. “You don’t love me. You love the idea of me, the doors my family could open for you, the access my family provides. But not me, with all the beauty and flaws that make me who I am.”

“That’s not true,” Lawrence protested, but his eyes darted nervously to my father in the front row.

“Isn’t it? Then why were you laughing with your best man about how I ‘swallowed the bait’ and how now ‘no one would see that ugly scar’?” I touched the mark on my collarbone. “Were those not your exact words?”

Lawrence’s best man shifted uncomfortably as a murmur rippled through the crowd.

“I…I didn’t mean…” Lawrence stammered before clearing his throat. “We can talk about this… I… I can make it up to you!”

“No, you can’t,” I replied, shaking my head. “I don’t want you to.”

So, I gathered my dress and walked back down the aisle, feeling my gut unclenching for the first time since Lily told me Lawrence had something special for me.

Emily quickly joined me, linking her arm through mine.

“That was badass,” she whispered as we exited the church.

“It was the truth,” I replied, smiling despite the nervousness.

Outside the church, the sun was bright and warm on my face.

My father caught up to us, concern etched on his features. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I am now,” I said, and meant it.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“Help me explain and apologize to everyone we invited. Then maybe get Mom, and join Emily and me for ice cream?” I suggested.

My father smiled. “On it.”

A few hours later, my mother, father, sister, and I were all sitting in a rinky-dink ice cream parlor, dressed to the nines. I was still in my wedding dress, obviously, and everyone was looking at us strangely.

But we were laughing happily.

As I looked at them while we shared the biggest serving of banana split ever, I knew that I was so lucky, not only because we were privileged but because I had their unconditional love.

No one who truly cared would ever ask me to cover up.

And although I never hid my scar consciously before, I decided then and there that I would display it more prominently. I also knew I had to trust my instincts.

Never ignore red flags!

I guess we’ll see who will love me for all I have to offer… flaws and all.