Just before walking down the aisle, Amy handed Janine, her future mother-in-law, a sealed envelope. “Give this to Leo after the ceremony,” she said, her hands
ice cold. Janine assumed it was a sweet note — a romantic gesture. The wedding went off flawlessly. Amy looked serene, almost too calm. At the reception,
Janine gave Leo the letter. He opened it casually — and then everything changed. Amy knew. About the affair. About the lies. Her letter was quiet, devastating
truth: “You chose me last and lied first. So here’s your gift — you get the wedding, I get the last word.” Leo walked out in shock. Janine, heartbroken,
followed. Later, Amy revealed she’d filed for an annulment just after the ceremony. She let Leo fund the whole thing — not out of revenge,
but as a lesson. A boundary. Before disappearing for good, she left Janine a final letter: “I didn’t destroy anything.
I let him finish what he started.” Weeks later, Amy mailed back her ring. No note. Just silence — her final, powerful goodbye.
