When I found out my fiancé was secretly planning a “closure getaway” with his ex just days before our wedding, I decided to plan my own trip. What happened next changed everything—including who I ended up walking down the aisle with.
My name is Elspeth, and until three weeks ago, I thought my future was all figured out. At 35, I was finally marrying the man I believed was my perfect match.
Wedding planning had taken over my life for eight months, but I loved it.
I’d dreamed of this day since I was little, playing dress-up in my mom’s old bridesmaid gowns.
Hawthorne and I met two years ago at a friend’s housewarming party. I was in the kitchen struggling with a stubborn wine bottle when this charming guy with warm hazel eyes stepped up.
“Need help with that?” he asked, smiling in a way that put me at ease right away.
“Only if you promise not to laugh at me for being hopeless at basic stuff,” I shot back, laughing myself.
He opened it easily and poured us each a glass.
“To getting through life’s small struggles,” he toasted, clinking his glass with mine. “It’s what keeps things interesting.”
We talked all night about our jobs, families, and things we loved. The connection was instant and strong.
By the end of the party, we’d exchanged numbers and set up dinner for the next weekend.
Being with Hawthorne felt easy and right.
He worked as a marketing manager at a tech company, was quick with jokes, and made me feel like the center of his world. We shared the same values, laughed at the same things, and never ran out of conversation.
When he proposed last Christmas at my favorite restaurant, hiding the ring in my dessert, I said yes without a second thought.
The engagement was a whirlwind of booking venues, trying on dresses, and making guest lists. Friends warned us about wedding stress breaking couples, but Hawthorne and I sailed through it.
We made decisions together without fights, supported each other through the chaos, and only grew closer.
Everything seemed perfect. Venue booked, flowers chosen, my dress waiting in the closet for the big day.
Then, a week before the wedding, Hawthorne started acting strange in small ways I first blamed on nerves.
He got distracted during conversations, checked his phone constantly, and became oddly defensive about his bachelor trip.
“Wedding jitters make people weird,” I told myself. That’s what everyone says, right?
His bachelor trip was meant to be low-key with two buddies. Nothing wild—just hiking and drinks in the mountains.
I even packed him trail mix and his favorite granola bars.
Three days before he was supposed to leave, I was at the mall grabbing last-minute skincare and a thank-you gift for his mom when everything shattered.
That’s when I bumped into Caleb, one of Hawthorne’s groomsmen.
“Hey, Elspeth!” Caleb said, hurrying over with shopping bags. “Pretty cool of you to be okay with the whole closure thing.”
“The what?”
Caleb laughed, thinking I was kidding. “The closure getaway! My girlfriend would never let me travel with an ex right before our wedding. Props to you for being so chill about it.”
The world seemed to fade around me as his words sank in.
My fiancé was going on a trip with his ex-girlfriend. Not a guys’ hiking weekend. With his ex.
I forced a smile and nodded like I knew all about it. I needed details, and freaking out wouldn’t get them.
“Oh yeah, totally,” I said casually. “Hawthorne’s always believed in clearing emotional baggage before big steps.”
Caleb nodded approvingly. “That’s mature of you both. Most people would flip out.”
I paused, then added lightly, “That evening flight will be rough, though.”
“Evening? I thought it was 8:40 a.m. Tuesday. That’s what Hawthorne told me when he asked me to cover his morning meeting.”
“Oh, right, my bad,” I said quickly. “I’m mixing up times. I should pack an umbrella—it’s probably rainy in Bali this season.”
Caleb looked confused. “Bali? I thought they were going to Cancún. That’s what he said at poker night.”
My smile stayed in place, but inside I felt sick. “Really? Huh. Must’ve gotten his plans wrong. Thanks for the tip—I’ll double-check with him.”
“No problem! See you at the rehearsal dinner,” Caleb said, waving goodbye.
Cancún. With Cressida, his ex he’d dated for three years before meeting me.
I walked to my car in a daze, hands shaking as I gripped the keys.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, I stared ahead for ten minutes, taking in the betrayal.
I didn’t cry or scream. Instead, I made a plan that would change it all.
An hour later, I stood in my closet looking at my wedding dress hanging beautifully. The excitement I’d felt that morning was gone; now it just reminded me of broken dreams.
I picked up my phone and made the call that started everything.
On Tuesday, the day Hawthorne was flying out with Cressida, I put on a white sundress and drove to the airport.
The drive felt unreal. I parked and walked through the doors with a new sense of determination.
I spotted them before they noticed me. Hawthorne and Cressida in the security line, laughing like old times. She looked just like in his old photos.
They seemed comfortable, like nothing had changed.
I walked up with my biggest smile.
“Hawthorne!”
He turned—confusion, recognition, panic, then pure dread crossing his face.
“Elspeth? What are you doing here?” he stammered. “This… it’s not what you think!”
But I wasn’t looking at him. I turned to the man next to me—tall, dark-haired, with those same warm hazel eyes that had won me over in college two years together.
“Hey, love,” I said to Griffin, rising on my toes to kiss his cheek. “Ready for our trip?”
Cressida’s mouth fell open. Hawthorne looked like he might faint.
“What is this?” Hawthorne demanded. “Is this some joke?”
I smiled sweetly. “You’re doing a closure trip before the wedding? Great idea! Griffin and I figured, with the big day so close, it’s the perfect time to revisit old feelings and get closure on our past too.”
Griffin played along perfectly. He nodded seriously and shook Hawthorne’s hand.
“Closure is important before committing for life,” he said calmly. “I really respect Elspeth for suggesting it.”
Hawthorne stared at Griffin’s hand like it was dangerous. “This isn’t real. Tell me you’re pranking me.”
I grinned. “Oh, it’s very real. It’s a double closure trip now—yours and mine.”
Holding Griffin’s hand, I walked past security to our gate. Yes, we were actually going somewhere.
This wasn’t only for show.
Here’s what happened before.
After hearing Caleb at the mall, I went home and called Griffin. We’d stayed loosely in touch over the years—birthday texts, holiday messages.
He was an architect and, as far as I knew, single.
“Griffin, I need a huge favor,” I said when he picked up. “It’s going to sound insane.”
I told him everything—Hawthorne, the secret trip with Cressida, how my heart broke days before my wedding.
“So you want me to pretend to be your closure guy to shock your lying fiancé?” he asked.
“Still love margaritas?” I replied.
He laughed. “Book the tickets. I’ll be at the airport.”
Now we were walking through the terminal like any couple off on vacation. I’d booked a week in Cabo on impulse as revenge, but now it felt strangely peaceful.
My phone blew up after security. Texts from Hawthorne.
“What was that at the airport?”
“This is ridiculous, Elspeth.”
“I was going to tell you when I got back.”
“You’ve ruined everything.”
“Call me now.”
I read them at our gate, each one confirming I’d made the right choice. Tell me when he got back? After lying and sneaking off with his ex?
I blocked his number before takeoff.
The flight to Cabo gave Griffin and me time to catch up after years apart.
We talked about his job, family, dating (or lack of), my work, and my now-canceled wedding.
“I can’t believe he lied to you like that,” Griffin said, shaking his head as we landed in Mexico. “So close to the wedding.”
“I can’t believe I almost married someone who thought a ‘closure getaway’ with his ex was fine,” I said. “What does that even mean?”
But as the week went on, something shifted. What started as payback became something real.
Griffin and I fell back into our easy rhythm. Hours talking on the beach, laughing until it hurt, remembering why we’d clicked so well.
We’d broken up in college because I moved across the country for grad school, and long-distance seemed too hard. Young and afraid, we thought we had all the time in the world.
Now, at 35, we’d become who we were meant to be. And somehow, we still fit.
One week in Cabo turned into two.
Then Griffin quit his job, moved to my city, and proposed six months later with a beautiful ring.
We married the following spring in a small ceremony with close family and friends.
And Hawthorne? Three months after Cabo, he emailed one line: “Guess your closure worked.”
Yes. Yes, it did.