A Second Super Strange True Love Story: I Was The Other Woman
When I met my one true love, I was so enamored with him I overlooked the fact that he had left a jilted fiancée behind. I was in way too deep before I realized that I was headed for my own nightmare.
Note: If you haven’t yet, start by reading the prequel to this story.
I was wearing a burning red fur coat I received from a world-famous ballerina. He was wearing a purple, green and yellow-dotted Muppets coat recently salvaged from storage. We had about ten minutes to buy two rings and arrive at our destination. We ducked into various trinket markets with heavy metal merchants, examined rings with snakes and inscriptions in foreign languages before realizing we were late to our own wedding. We ran off to Toronto City Hall, holding hands, ringless. It was the winter of 2011; we had just come back from the Middle East and were on our way to South America. On the second floor of City Hall, in a small room with empty chairs and two dear friends as witnesses, a vampire-like librarian who spoke in deep poetry married us beside a vase of plastic flowers. I was weeping with joy — and I was seven months pregnant.
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