Ethan was prepared to marry the love of his life, until he found out the truth. With only 72 hours until the wedding, he created a plan for the biggest revenge. As Sofia walked down the aisle, she anticipated the dreamy wedding she organized. But Ethan was about to turn their wedding into a showdown.
Everything was perfect.
The venue was filled with golden light, the floral arrangements were gorgeous, and the guests were all smiling, talking, and sipping champagne.
Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be. It was the kind of wedding people longed for, the kind Sofia had spent months working hard on.
She had arranged every single detail, down to the little bag of snacks to keep guests content if they were hungry during the ceremony.
But as much as my fiancée had planned her dream wedding, I had carefully set up my moment too.
I stood at the front, hands clasped, calming my breath. The music rose, the signal for the bridesmaids to get set to enter.
I glanced around, noticing the expectant faces of our guests, the thoughtfully chosen decorations, and the warm glow of the candlelight. It was the perfect romantic wedding scene.
Everything felt exactly as it needed to.
And yet, I wasn’t nervous. Not even a bit.
Not anymore.
Three Days Before
I don’t remember sitting down.
One minute, I was standing by the window of my apartment, looking at the city skyline. The next, I was on the couch, head in my hands, trying to breathe.
Elena sat across from me, silent, waiting. Her words still rang in my head. Over and over, like a song I just couldn’t stop.
“I saw her, Ethan. With him. I wasn’t searching for it, I swear! But I saw them.”
“And you’re sure? Elena, I need you to be certain.” My voice sounded weak and strange to me.
“Ethan, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure,” she said.
The room felt too cramped. My apartment, once packed with wedding gifts and seating charts and joy, now felt like a trap. I wanted to flee, to escape this conversation.
How could Sofia betray me?
“Tell me everything,” I said.
Elena paused for a moment. Then, she straightened her shoulders, meeting my eyes with a look of sadness.
“I was at that new coffee shop that focuses on being vegan. I was grabbing a coffee when I saw Sofia sitting at a corner table.”
She stopped.
“She wasn’t alone, Ethan.”
“Who?” I asked.
“I don’t know his name, but he looked so familiar. He could be one of her friends. I know I’ve seen him before. But I know how he stared at her, Ethan. And I know how she gazed back at him.”
“That doesn’t mean much, Elena,” I said.
“Sofia touched his face, murmured something, and then she leaned in first, Ethan. And then they kissed.”
For a short, pathetic second, I almost convinced myself that it was a mix-up. A mistake. But Sofia wasn’t reckless. She was careful.
She wouldn’t have let a man kiss her in public unless she knew she wouldn’t get caught. Unless she thought she had all the control and nobody who knew either of us would spot her.
“Ethan, I know this stings,” Elena said. “But I took a photo. I knew you’d need proof.”
“Show me,” I said, feeling my heart break as I glanced at Elena’s phone.
I blinked, staring down at my hands. They felt different. Detached from me.
“She said she loved me,” I whispered. “Our wedding is in 72 hours, Elena. What am I supposed to do now? Cancel the wedding?”
“No way!” Elena said. “Teach her a lesson!”
I lifted my head, and for the first time since the conversation started, I met Elena’s gaze with clear, steady anger.
“She’s not getting away with this.”
Elena didn’t look surprised.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
Something cold settled in my chest. I stood up and walked to the window. A deep, sharp clarity. I adjusted my tie like I had already made my decision.
“I’m going to let her have her big day,” I said. “But not in the way she expected.”
A slow smirk curled at the edge of Elena’s lips.
“Tell me what you need, brother,” she said. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
The Present
The music got louder, announcing the first bridesmaid.
As they stepped into view, one after the other, a ripple of unease moved through the crowd. The room, once full of quiet conversation, changed completely.
The bridesmaids were dressed in black, as if in sorrow. Some of them had taken some convincing, but when they saw the proof that Elena and I had shared, none of them wanted to stand behind a liar.
They weren’t wearing the soft sky blue that Sofia had wanted. Not the carefully picked pastel shades that matched the invitations and the floral centerpieces.
Nope.
They were in black.
One by one, they moved forward, their faces unreadable. Their dark dresses stood out sharply against the delicate white petals scattered along the aisle.
That’s when the whispers started. Both Sofia and I came from traditional families, so the bridesmaids wearing black was a big deal. A few heads turned to each other with confused frowns.
“It’s so unlucky, Ethan!” I could almost hear my mother yelling.
“Oh, it’s a bad omen,” I imagined my grandmother saying.
I kept my gaze steady, watching as my sister, Elena, reached her spot at the front. She met my eyes and, so subtly that no one else would notice, winked.
I exhaled slowly.
Yes.
Everything was just as I planned.
Then, the doors at the back of the hall opened…
And there she was.
Sofia. My bride.
She looked breathtaking — I’ll give her that. The ivory dress hugged her in all the right places, the veil shimmered slightly under the golden light, and the bouquet in her hands matched the very flowers she had obsessed over for months. She looked like everything a bride dreams of being.
But to me, she looked like a performance. A carefully rehearsed lie wrapped in lace.
The music swelled. Guests turned, phones lifted, and everyone stood. She smiled… until she noticed the bridesmaids. Her steps slowed.
Confusion flickered across her face.
Then she looked at me.
I didn’t smile. I didn’t cry. I didn’t reach out my hand.
I just stood there. Waiting.
She reached the altar. The officiant welcomed everyone and asked us to take our places.
Sofia leaned in slightly. “Why are they wearing black?” she whispered through her teeth.
I didn’t answer. I simply nodded at the officiant to begin.
The ceremony started. The typical words were spoken. But when it came time for vows, I took a slow breath and held up a hand.
“I’d like to say something first.”
Sofia looked stunned. She wasn’t expecting this.
Neither were the guests.
I turned to face them all.
“I want to thank you all for coming today,” I began, my voice calm. “I know weddings are special, and it means the world to have you here. I also want to thank Sofia — the woman I thought I was going to spend my life with.”
She blinked. Alarm creeping into her eyes.
“But three days ago,” I continued, “I learned something. Something that changed everything.”
I paused and turned back to her.
“I know about him, Sofia.”
Gasps echoed through the room. Sofia paled.
“I saw the photo. I heard the whole story. You didn’t make a mistake. You made a choice. And so have I.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small envelope.
“This,” I said, holding it up, “is not a ring. It’s a letter. A letter explaining to you and everyone here exactly why this wedding won’t be happening.”
Sofia stumbled back a step.
“But don’t worry,” I added. “I’m not here to embarrass you.”
I handed the envelope to the officiant.
“I’m here to free myself.”
And with that, I turned to the guests.
“There will still be food. Drinks. Music. And dancing. Consider it a celebration — just not the one we all expected.”
I unfastened the boutonniere from my lapel, placed it on the altar, and walked out.
Behind me, silence. Then murmurs. Then a storm of whispers.
But I didn’t look back.
I walked outside into the sunlight, my chest rising with the first real breath I’d taken in days.
And standing near the back gate, arms crossed and smirking?
Elena.
“Damn,” she said, handing me a glass of champagne. “That was even better than I imagined.”
I clinked the glass against hers.
“To truth,” I said.
“To freedom,” she replied.
We drank.
And the music started up inside.
But out here?
Out here, it finally felt real.
