Paige’s sister snatches her fiancé, and treachery isn’t enough; she wants to celebrate her small victory. A year later, an invitation arrives. Erica is getting married to the man she took, and she wants Paige to go.
However, Erica is unaware that Paige has a plan. And before the night is up, the bride’s ideal day will be ruined. I wasn’t supposed to be at this wedding.
That much was clear from the sideways glances and murmured remarks I received as I walked across the massive hall. I will admit that the wedding setup was spectacular. Erica had taken her time setting the atmosphere with gold and ivory tones.
The guests had arrived in their pricey gowns and tuxedos. Everything was beautiful. However, no amount of elegance could hide the rot beneath the surface.
It wasn’t just any wedding. It was her wedding.
Erica.
My younger sister.
My parents’ golden child. The one who received everything on a silver platter while I worked hard for every success I had. And now?
She had taken the only thing that was supposed to be mine. Stan. Stan had been my fiance.
He’d been my future. He was the man I loved and trusted until one night, when I returned home early from work and discovered them intertwined in our bed. I still recall how he froze, his face twisted with shame.
As for my sister? She had just smirked, her voice full of smug delight. “I won, Paige,” she had said simply.
“Checkmate.”
A month later, the wedding I had spent over a year organizing was canceled, with all vendors attempting to keep my deposits. So what about Erica and Stan? They no longer needed to sneak about.
They were now an official couple. After that, I left town for a few weeks, staying in various motels and working remotely. I tried to put everything behind me, and I eventually succeeded.
When I was ready, I moved back in and acquired myself a kitten.
Then the invitation arrived.
And now, a year later, here I was, standing in the midst of their celebration, invited just as a witness to their alleged win. I bet my parents compelled her to invite me.
If Erica had her way, she would not have invited me. Perhaps she would just gloat. She was as vicious as they get.
But Erica had no idea, and no one knew, that I wasn’t here tonight to mourn my loss. I was here to ensure that Erica never forgot what she had done to me. And she’d never forget the surprise I had prepared for her wedding celebration.
The ceremony was a haze. I stood in the back, barely listening while the officiant rambled on about love and devotion. Honestly, these were empty words.
Stan, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, looked at Erica with affection that I felt was phony. She, in turn, smiled up at him as if she had won the finest treasure of all. I nearly laughed.
“Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart,” I thought as I sipped my champagne. By the time the reception began, the hall was filled with laughter and clinking glasses. A large screen behind the dance floor displayed a slideshow of their engagement images, with Stan raising Erica into the air and their foreheads touching as they smiled at each other.
To be honest, if you didn’t know the story behind their meeting, you’d assume they were truly happy. And perhaps they were. Perhaps this was the expected outcome.
But I was not going to give in that simply. I was not going to let this go. Why should Erica get the happily ever after, especially after all the agony and betrayal I had experienced?
Nope. Not a chance. Soon, their beautiful little fairytale would take a turn.
I slipped through the crowd unnoticed, my sleek black dress fitting my figure just so. I was not dressed as a guest. I was dressed like a princess, and I felt as confident as I had in a long time.
I reached for the laptop linked to the projector and inserted my flash drive. After a few clicks and a big breath,
Showtime.
The first few seconds passed unnoticed. The guests continued to sip champagne and nibble on canapés while lost in conversation.
The bridal pair made their way through the crowd, pausing to talk and hug people along the way. Then Stan’s voice filled the hall. “Please, don’t leave me!”
The video played on the massive screen, the footage grainy from the security camera mounted in my bedroom.
Stan was on the bed, his face streaked with tears. I was standing on the other end listening to him try to ‘explain’ what had gone on between him and my sister. “Erica means nothing to me, Paige!
Absolutely nothing!” he sobbed. “She was a mistake! I love you, Paige!
I made a huge mistake!”
A heavy stillness descended upon the room. I turned to look at Erica. Her face had lost its color.
Stan, too, stood motionless, eyes wide. His hands twitched by his sides. Still, I wasn’t finished.
The video cut to additional surveillance footage. I lived in a quiet neighborhood that was frequently targeted for break-ins, so I installed security cameras everywhere and in every room. Now, the footage showed Erica and Stan sneaking into my house together, slipping into my bedroom when they thought I was working late.
Timestamp after timestamp, betrayal after betrayal. Then, the final nail in the coffin. Erica, lying in my bed, laughing.
“She’ll never know…” she whispered, her voice light and breathy. “Paige who?” Stan said, laughing with her. A collective gasp spread through the crowd.
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