I thought the hardest part of my life was over when I decided to marry the love of my life. I had a plan, a ring, and a heart full of hope. But nothing could have prepared me for what happened at city hall that day.
“Sir, according to our records, you’re already married.”
I froze. My mouth went dry. My mind blanked. “What?” I stammered. “That’s impossible. I’ve never—ever—been married.”
The clerk’s eyes were calm, professional, 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 just before Clara and I met, right before my life finally started to feel right again.
I turned to Clara. Her face went pale, and her hands trembled. “What does this mean?” she whispered. Fear and confusion mirrored my own.
“I—I don’t know,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’ve never met her. I swear I don’t know anything about this, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it!”
We left city hall in stunned silence. My fist clutched the copy of the certificate like it was a piece of evidence in a crime. How could my life be turned upside down in one sentence?
Earlier that day, I had stood in front of my parents’ graves with a small velvet box in my hand. The grass was wet from the night’s rain, and the scent of earth and moisture hung in the air.
“I’m going to ask her,” I whispered to the headstones. “I’m finally doing it.”
My voice felt strange in the open space, but today was different. Today, I needed my parents to hear me. Clara had been my anchor for over two years. She could make me laugh when I wanted to cry and made silence feel comforting when words were too much. Just thinking about her brought a smile to my face.
My parents had died years ago during an expedition in South America. They were archaeologists, the type who couldn’t resist a mystery—and one day, the mystery won. I was lost when they died, but my father’s old friend Tom stepped in. Without him, I don’t know what I would have done.
Earlier that year, when I turned 27, something changed. I finally got access to my inheritance—a large sum, more than I ever expected. Enough to finally dream of a real future with Clara, not just daydreams.
“I’ve been thinking about proposing for months. Maybe longer. Maybe since the day we met,” I whispered, opening the velvet box. The diamond sparkled, throwing tiny rainbows across my palm. “I hope you’ll bless this marriage. I think you would have really liked her.”
The wind rustled the trees behind me, and I took it as a sign.
That afternoon, I asked Clara to meet me at city hall. I know it wasn’t the most romantic place, but we had joked about skipping a big wedding and just making it official. I brought a bouquet of white roses and pink peonies, the ring, and every ounce of courage I had.
She was standing on the steps in the blue dress I loved, a smile on her face, though her eyes were curious.
“Andrew,” she said, “what’s going on?”
I dropped to one knee. “Clara, will you marry me? Right now. Today.”
Her hands flew to her mouth. Tears filled her eyes, and then she nodded repeatedly, saying yes over and over, pulling me up, kissing me, while some teenagers whistled and an old woman clapped. Hand in hand, we went into the building, ready to finally make it official.
But then the city hall clerk told us I was already married.
Clara’s face crumpled. “Was there… someone else before me? You can tell me if there was…”
“No, I swear! I have no idea what’s going on, but I’ll fix this!” I held her tight, feeling the world collapse around me.
The next morning, I went to work hoping routine would help, but it didn’t. My boss, Tom, had been a steady presence in my life, tracking me down in college, offering me a job to honor my parents’ memory. Lately, though, something felt off. A new car, a bigger house, a trip to Italy—all while the company was barely breaking even.
I told him everything. He listened, serious and quiet. “Let me call my lawyer,” he said. “See what can be done.”
Later, he called me into his office. His phone buzzed. The caller ID made my stomach drop: it was Marla—the woman I was supposedly married to.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
Tom answered the call and put it on speaker. A woman’s voice filled the room.
“After all these years, I finally got my revenge!” Her laugh sent chills down my spine.
“You tried so hard to protect that boy from me, Tom. But you failed.”
“What are you talking about, Marla? What did you do?”
“I paid someone to steal information from your employee files and took his name. Then I went after the money.”
I shook. “You forged the marriage certificate! But why?”
“Payback. Your parents ruined my life. I might not touch the money directly, but I can ruin his life. Loans, credit cards, a second mortgage—beautiful, really. And now he’s right there!”
She hung up. Tom sank into his chair, grim.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Your parents, Marla, and I were friends. We had big plans, but she got involved with bad people, embezzled, and lost everything. She blamed your parents and me and swore she’d get revenge someday.”
I felt sick. She’d waited all this time… until I inherited my parents’ estate.
Tom pointed to the paperwork he’d prepared with his lawyer: petitions, copies of the certificate, notes about forged signatures. “He’s already challenging the record. This will buy us time.”
Over the next week, Clara never left my side. The legal team worked quickly, proving the marriage fraudulent. The loans were voided, and Marla was arrested. Slowly, the weight lifted.
The day after the marriage was officially dissolved, Clara and I returned to city hall. Hand in hand, hearts racing, I said, “We’d like to get married.”
The clerk smiled. “Congratulations. Names?”
This time, everything went right. No surprises, no fear—just the beginning of our life together. Finally, after all the loss, the confusion, and the fear, we were free to be happy.
And I knew my parents, wherever they were, would have smiled too.