“And we’re getting married next month.”
“Just trust me.”
“Janine, are you serious? Is this about his money? His houses?”
“No, Mom!”
“Then why?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Please, just trust me.”
“You don’t know him.”
But she wouldn’t explain another word.
Over the next few weeks, Janine and I barely spoke without arguing.
I tried everything to convince her to reconsider.
“He’s thirty-two years older than you, sweetheart. And he’s your boss! Don’t you see how complicated this could get?”
“You don’t know him like I do, Mom.”
“What is this?”
Whenever I mentioned postponing the wedding, she immediately changed the subject.
Three days before the ceremony, Janine came into my bedroom carrying an old envelope.
“Mom, I can’t let you keep thinking I’m marrying Richard for his money.”
She handed it to me.
“What is this?”
“Janine is kind to me.”
“Pages from his diary. He writes things down so he won’t forget them.”
I unfolded the first sheet.
“My name is Richard. I’m fifty years old. I own a real estate company. Sometimes I forget things. I must not panic when that happens.”
I looked at Janine, confused, then continued reading.
“Janine is kind to me. Sometimes she reminds me of Catherine. I loved Catherine a long time ago.”
“What does all this mean?”
The final entry made my chest tighten.
“I’m afraid that one day I’ll look at Janine and won’t remember who she is. I want to marry her while I still can.”
I slowly lowered the pages.
“Janine, sweetheart, what does all this mean?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
‘Catherine? Is that you?’
“Mom, Richard has Alzheimer’s.”
Janine sat beside me on the bed and took a deep breath.
“It started about six weeks ago. I went into Richard’s office to bring him some documents, and he was sitting at his desk, holding an old photograph.”
“Of what?”
“A young woman. She looked a little like me. When he saw me, he suddenly stood up and said, ‘Catherine? Is that really you?'”
“You believed him?”
I frowned.
“What did you do?”
“I told him I was Janine. He looked so embarrassed, Mom. His hands were shaking. He kept apologizing.”
She explained that Richard eventually told her about Catherine, his first love. They’d planned to marry decades earlier, but Catherine had suddenly disappeared from his life.
His doctors diagnosed him.
He’d never married anyone else.
“Richard said he’d recently started forgetting things. Sometimes he gets confused about what year it is, or thinks something from his past is happening again.”
“And you believed him?”
“He showed me his medical records, Mom! His doctors diagnosed him with early-stage Alzheimer’s.”
I remained silent.
“He calls me Catherine.”
Janine continued explaining how she’d started helping him. She left reminder notes on his desk, organized his appointments, and sometimes stayed late when he seemed particularly confused.
“Sometimes he still calls me Catherine,” she admitted. “At first, I corrected him. But one evening, he started crying. He said he was terrified he’d eventually forget everyone he’d ever loved.”
Her voice trembled.
“I do love him.”
“After that, I couldn’t bring myself to correct him anymore.”
I gently squeezed her hand.
“Sweetheart, feeling sorry for someone isn’t the same as loving them.”
“I know. But it changed. I really do love him.”
She wiped her cheeks.
“He’s scared.”
“I know I’m not Catherine, Mom. But when he looks at me, sometimes I feel like I’m the only person who makes him happy.”
“Then why rush into marriage?”
“Because he’s scared,” she whispered. “He wants to marry me before he forgets who I am.”
I picked up Richard’s diary pages again and carefully reread them.
“Janine, is Richard seeing a doctor regularly?”
I couldn’t move.
“Of course, Mom. He even showed me his diagnosis.”
She pulled out her phone and found a photograph of a medical certificate.
“Here. See?”
I took the phone.
The hospital’s name appeared at the top of the document. It was the hospital where I worked.
“What’s wrong?”
For a moment, I couldn’t move.
I examined the certificate more closely, then glanced at the date.
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
I forced myself to look up. “Nothing, sweetheart. I’m just worried about you.”
I handed her phone back.
“Did his doctor suggest postponing the wedding?”
“People can function normally.”
Janine shook her head. “Richard doesn’t want to waste whatever time he has left.”
“But doesn’t it seem strange that he sometimes can’t recognize you, yet he still manages an entire company?”
“Mom, Alzheimer’s doesn’t work the same way for everyone. Some people can function normally for years.”
“You’re right,” I said quietly.
I wasn’t going to argue about a disease I’d seen affect so many patients.
“I need you to do one thing.”
Janine slipped her phone into her pocket. “Will you please try to understand?”
I looked at the diary again. There was something I desperately wanted to tell her.
But first, I needed her to see it for herself.
The next morning, I found Janine in the kitchen, making coffee.
“Sweetheart, can we talk?”
“Will you try?”
She sighed. “Mom, if you’re going to tell me I’m making a mistake again—”
“I’m not. And I promise I won’t accuse you of marrying Richard for his money anymore.”
She looked surprised.
“But I need you to do one thing before the wedding.”
“What?”
“Make absolutely sure he’s telling you the truth.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Her expression hardened. “Mom, you want me to test a man who’s losing his memory?”
“I want you to make sure he’s telling you the truth.”
“He’s shown me everything!”
I took her hand. “Remember what I always told you? An honest man won’t mind if you check.”
Janine looked away.
“He’s telling you the truth.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“What if Richard looks at you on your wedding day and thinks he’s marrying Catherine?”
She fell silent.
“If he really confuses people that often, shouldn’t we know whether he understands what’s happening?”
“How?”
“That would humiliate him!”
I hesitated. “We could have someone else walk down the aisle wearing your wedding dress. Someone who looks like you.”
Janine stared at me.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m serious. We’ll stop everything before the vows. Nobody will actually get married.”
“Mom, that would humiliate him!”
“We’ll apologize.”
“Not if we handle it carefully. But if something isn’t right, wouldn’t you rather know before becoming his wife?”
She paced around the kitchen. For several minutes, she said nothing.
Finally, she looked at me. “And if he really is sick?”
“Then we’ll apologize and make sure he gets the support he needs.”
Janine swallowed. “Okay, Mom. One test. But that’s all.”
“If he really is sick?”
She called her best friend, Megan, that afternoon.
They’d known each other since high school, and fortunately, they were about the same height, with similar figures and long brown hair.
When Megan heard our plan, she stared at us.
“You want me to marry your boss? Should I at least ask what he earns?”
“I became a substitute bride.”
“Megan, this isn’t funny!” Janine protested.
“Sorry! I’m just trying to understand how I became a substitute bride.”
Eventually, Megan agreed. She’d been worried about Janine’s engagement from the beginning.
On the morning of the wedding, both girls gathered in my bedroom.
Megan stepped into Janine’s wedding dress while I helped arrange her hair in the same elegant updo we’d planned for my daughter.
They looked remarkably alike.
I applied her makeup, then fastened a long veil over her face.
“Well?” Megan asked, turning toward the mirror.
Janine gasped.
From a distance, they looked remarkably alike.
Up close, however, their faces were unmistakably different. I deliberately left Megan’s features visible.
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
Janine twisted her fingers nervously.
“What if Richard doesn’t notice?”
“Then we’ll stop the ceremony and figure out what happened,” I assured her.
She looked at Megan, then back at me.
“I don’t want to hurt him, Mom.”
I pulled her into my arms.
“What if Richard doesn’t notice?”
“And I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”
We drove to the chapel separately.
Megan waited near the main entrance, while Janine and I slipped inside through a side door.
From there, we could hear everything happening near the altar.
I squeezed my daughter’s hand. The wedding music began.
He looked remarkably relaxed.
The chapel was nearly full when the ceremony began.
About thirty guests sat in the wooden pews, whispering excitedly and admiring the flowers decorating the aisle.
Richard stood beside the officiant in an expensive dark suit.
He looked remarkably relaxed for a man who supposedly feared forgetting his own wedding day. He smiled at his friends, adjusted his cufflinks, and even exchanged a joke with one of the guests.
“Mom, I’m nervous.”
I watched everything through the narrow opening of the side door. Janine stood beside me, trembling.
“Mom, I’m nervous,” she whispered.
I squeezed her hand.
“Just watch, sweetheart.”
The music started.
Megan reached the altar.
The chapel doors swung open, and Megan appeared, holding the arm of my cousin, Daniel, who had agreed to help us.
Her white dress swept across the floor as they slowly approached the altar.
Richard’s face lit up. He smiled broadly, watching his supposed bride walk toward him.
For a moment, I wondered whether he might actually go through with the ceremony without noticing anything unusual.
Richard’s smile vanished.
Then Megan reached the altar.
Daniel stepped aside, and Richard reached for her hand.
Megan lifted her veil. Richard’s smile vanished. He stared at her, blinking several times. Then he stepped backward.
“Who are you?”
Megan remained silent.
“Who arranged this?”
Richard looked around the chapel.
“Where’s Janine?”
Someone in the front row chuckled nervously.
But Richard wasn’t laughing.
“This isn’t my bride! What the hell is going on?”
“On my own wedding day?”
Megan tilted her head. “I thought you sometimes confused people.”
Richard’s face turned bright red. “I know what my fiancée looks like!”
He turned toward the guests.
“Who arranged this? Is somebody trying to humiliate me? On my own wedding day?”
The officiant raised his hands, trying to calm him.
“I want Janine here.”
“Sir, perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding—”
“A misunderstanding? Someone sent a complete stranger down the aisle!”
The guests began whispering.
Richard pointed angrily toward the entrance.
“I want Janine here. Right now!”
“What is this nonsense?”
That was when the side door opened.
My daughter stepped into the chapel wearing a simple cream-colored dress.
“Richard?”
He spun around.
“Janine! Finally! What is this nonsense?”
“You call me Catherine.”
She approached him slowly.
Then she asked the question we’d prepared. “How did you know she wasn’t me?”
Richard stared at Janine as though she’d lost her mind.
“Because I know what my fiancée looks like! What kind of ridiculous question is that?”
“But Richard, sometimes you don’t recognize me. You call me Catherine, remember?”
“You know that!”
“That’s different!” he snapped. “I’m having a good day today.”
Janine swallowed.
“What about your diary? You wrote that you’re afraid you’ll forget my face.”
“My doctor told me to write important things down. You know that!”
“Then tell me something. Do you remember the day we met?”
Richard threw up his hands.
“And our first dinner?”
“Of course! You arrived fifteen minutes early for your interview. You were wearing a blue blouse and carrying a ridiculous yellow handbag.”
“And our first dinner?”
“At the Italian restaurant on Maple Street. You ordered salmon and complained about the music!”
He continued without hesitation, describing their first walk through the park and the evening he’d proposed.
Janine looked increasingly uncomfortable.
“Absolutely not!”
“Richard, I think we should postpone the wedding until we speak to another doctor.”
His expression hardened.
“Absolutely not! You’ve already humiliated me in front of everyone!”
“I’m just trying to understand—”
“You think I’m some helpless old man who doesn’t know what’s happening around him?”
“I remember everything!”
Janine’s voice trembled. “So you remember everything?”
Richard slammed his hand against the altar.
“Yes! I remember everything! Every single thing!”
The entire chapel went silent.
Richard froze, apparently realizing what he’d just shouted.
“You!”
Janine stepped backward, tears filling her eyes. And that was when I rose from my seat in the front row.
“Well, Richard,” I said, approaching the altar. “I’m glad we finally cleared that up.”
I slowly approached the altar.
Richard glared at me. “You! I should’ve known you were behind this!”
I stopped a few feet away.
“I’ve seen you.”
“Do you remember me, Richard?”
He scoffed. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!”
“That’s interesting. Because I’ve seen you.”
I turned toward Janine.
“Sweetheart, remember that medical certificate you showed me? The one with Richard’s diagnosis?”
She nodded. “That hospital is where I work. I’m a nurse there.”
“That’s a lie!”
Richard’s expression changed.
“A few weeks ago, before you announced your engagement, I saw Richard standing in one of our corridors, talking on his phone.”
I remembered the conversation perfectly.
He’d been laughing so loudly that I’d turned around.
“I told that little fool I had Alzheimer’s. Now she thinks I’m some poor, lonely man who needs saving.”
“I recognized you.”
Janine covered her mouth.
Richard shook his head. “That’s a lie!”
“Really? Because I also heard you bragging about inventing a tragic first love named Catherine. And about getting fake medical documents to support your story.”
The guests began whispering.
“She thinks I’m some poor man.”
“At the time, I had no idea who you were talking about,” I continued. “But when Janine came home wearing your ring, I recognized you.”
“She’s hated me from the beginning!” Richard shouted. “She’s making this up!”
I ignored him.
“I knew Janine was in love. I was afraid she’d think I was simply trying to separate you. So when she showed me your diary and those papers, I suggested we check your story.”
“She’s so scared.”
I glanced at Megan.
“Recognizing someone doesn’t prove a person is healthy. But your reaction today, and what I overheard, gave us plenty of reasons to question your claims.”
Richard opened his mouth. I interrupted him.
“Remember what you said on that phone call? ‘The best part is, she’s so scared of abandoning a sick man that she’ll never dare leave me.'”
I interrupted him.
His face went pale.
“You didn’t want a wife, Richard. You wanted a young woman, too guilty to ever leave you.”
Janine stared at him.
For the first time, she didn’t rush to defend him.
