'Two months before my wedding, everything fell apart. It started with the engagement ring.'

As told to Ann DeGrey.

I couldn't believe my luck when I met Daniel at my best friend's 40th birthday party in Hong Kong.

It was one of those glamorous rooftop gatherings in Central, where the booze flowed freely and everyone looked effortlessly glam.

I wasn't expecting much from the night — I'd recently ended my relationship with my boyfriend of two years and was dealing with a broken heart. For me, it was set to be another evening of small talk and polite laughter. 

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Then, Sarah introduced me to Daniel.

He was literally a walking cliché: tall and impossibly handsome, with dark eyes that held just the right amount of mischief. He was younger than me by seven years, but I didn't care. The attraction was instant, electric. And he seemed wise and mature.

Plus, he didn't take his eyes off me all night.  Within an hour, we were in our own world, lost in conversation, quite oblivious to the party shenanigans going on around us. I took him home that night, and from that moment on, we were inseparable.

Daniel spoilt me in ways I'd never experienced before. Lavish dinners at fancy restaurants. Weekend getaways to Thailand, Singapore, Tokyo. Limited edition handbags. Diamonds. It was like something out of a movie. He told me his family was in shipping; "old money," as he put it. He told me he held a senior position in a finance organisation, though he was always vague about the details. But judging by the way he spent money, I never questioned it.

I'd dated wealthy men before, but Daniel was different. He wasn't just rich; he was exciting, playful, spontaneous. He made me feel treasured in a way no other man had. And he adored me — or at least, that's what I believed.

Six months after we met, he proposed. It was the kind of proposal every woman dreams of. He surprised me with a private yacht trip around Victoria Harbour. The city lights were shimmering on the water, classical music playing in the background as he dropped to one knee, pulled out a diamond ring, and asked me to be his wife. 

I said yes. Of course, I said yes! I was over the moon.

The next few months were a whirlwind of wedding planning. My friends envied me. "You've won the lottery," said one friend. And I felt like I had.

Then, two months before the wedding, everything fell apart.

It started with the engagement ring. It was a little loose on me, so I took it to a jeweller to have it resized. The woman behind the counter examined it for a moment, then frowned.

"Do you know this isn't a real diamond?" she asked.

I laughed, thinking she must be joking. But she wasn't smiling.

"You must be mistaken. My fiancé bought it from Cartier," I said.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but this is cubic zirconia. A good one, but definitely fake."

I left the store immediately, wandering the streets in a daze as I tried to think of a reasonable explanation. Maybe there had been a mix-up. Maybe he'd been scammed? I called Daniel; he didn't answer. 

That night, I confronted him. At first, he denied it. Then, when he saw I wasn't backing down, he told me the truth.

"Okay, fine. I didn't buy it from Cartier. But it doesn't change how I feel about you," he insisted. 

I felt nauseous. 

"What else have you lied about?" I asked.

Looking at his feet, he didn't say a word. That's when I knew — there was more.

Over the next few days, the truth spilled out in dribs and drabs, like a badly stitched seam slowly falling apart. 

Instead of a wealthy family with a shipping empire, his parents were retired factory workers living in a tiny, government-subsidised apartment in one of the poorest districts in Hong Kong. He didn't have a yacht or private memberships to the elite clubs; his "high life" was nothing more than Instagram filters and moments borrowed from wealthy friends.

The weekend trips? Paid for with maxed-out credit cards. The flashy suits? Rented. Even his car — which he proudly flaunted — was leased under someone else's name. He was drowning in debt, while projecting an image of flawless luxury. 

I felt like an idiot — nothing about Daniel was real. How had I missed the signs? When I finally walked away, I wasn't just heartbroken. I was humiliated. The man I had planned to marry had never existed. 

The only real thing in our entire relationship was the way I had loved him. But I couldn't spend my life with a man who had fed me so many lies.

No matter how deep my feelings were, love could never win when the foundation was built on deception.

Feature image: Getty.