The guests thought I was reaching for my vows. I was reaching for my revenge.
It was the kind of wedding Pinterest boards are made of. The late afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass, casting a golden glow over the lilies lining the aisle. My fiancé, Ryan, looked devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo. Standing beside me was my Maid of Honor and best friend of fifteen years, Sarah, adjusting my train with trembling hands.
Everyone thought Sarah was trembling because she was emotional. I knew she was trembling because she was terrified.
The Discovery
The unraveling began less than 12 hours prior. We were hosting a small after-dinner gathering at the hotel. Ryan had left his Apple Watch charging on the nightstand while he went down to the bar with the groomsmen.
It buzzed. Then it buzzed again.
Curiosity is a dangerous thing, but intuition is lethal. I glanced at the screen. The name “Sarah” popped up. “I can’t wait to see you at the altar, but I wish I was the one wearing the white dress. It’s so hard to watch her act like she knows you.”
My stomach dropped to the floor. I scrolled up. It wasn’t just a drunken mistake; it was a full-blown relationship. They mocked my taste in flowers. They laughed about how “clueless” I was. But the final knife in the back wasn’t about love or sex—it was about money.
I found a group chat with his groomsmen. Ryan: “Just gotta hold out for six months, boys. Once the joint account is finalized and the house is in both names, I can cash out. Easy money. 50 bucks says she cries when I serve the papers.”
The Ceremony
Walking down the aisle felt like an out-of-body experience. My father squeezed my arm, whispering how proud he was. I just kept my eyes locked on Ryan. He smiled at me—that charming, lopsided smile I used to love. Now, it just looked like a predator looking at prey.
When I reached the altar, I handed my bouquet to Sarah. She smiled at me, tears in her eyes. “You look stunning,” she whispered. “Thanks,” I said, my voice ice cold. “You too.”
The priest went through the motions. When it came time for the vows, Ryan recited his perfectly memorized lines. He promised to honor me. He promised to be my partner in all things. The audacity was almost impressive.
“And now,” the priest said, turning to me. “The bride will read her vows.”
The Vows
I reached into the pocket of my dress. Ryan looked confused; he knew I had written them in a notebook. Instead, I pulled out my phone.
“I had prepared vows telling you how much I loved you,” I began, my voice amplified by the microphone, echoing off the stone walls. “But last night, I found some words that I think speak to the truth of our relationship much better than I ever could.”
I turned to face the congregation. “These are messages sent between my fiancé and my Maid of Honor, Sarah.”
Ryan’s face went white. Sarah gasped, dropping my bouquet.
I started reading.
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“She has no idea. She thinks I’m working late. I’ll be at your place in 20.”
-
“I love it when you wear that red dress. Much better than the frumpy stuff she wears.”
The murmurs started. Ryan lunged forward. “Don’t do this! Stop!” My father stepped in, blocking him with a glare that could peel paint. “Let her finish,” he growled.
I looked Ryan dead in the eye and read the final text—the wager.
-
“Just gotta hold out for six months, boys. Once the joint account is finalized… 50 bucks says she cries when I serve the papers.”
The Aftermath
“Well, Ryan,” I said, looking up from the screen. “I’m not crying. But I am keeping the deposit on the house. And as for the 50 bucks? You can keep it. You’re going to need it for a lawyer.”
I turned to the guests, who sat in stunned silence. “There will be no wedding today. But the reception is paid for, the open bar is fully stocked, and the DJ is already there. Please, go enjoy a drink on me. I’m going to go on my honeymoon.”
I turned on my heel and walked back up the aisle.
Behind me, chaos erupted. Ryan’s mother was screaming at Sarah. The groomsmen were looking at their shoes. My friends were cheering.
I didn’t look back. I took the flight to the Maldives alone. I drank cocktails on the beach, read books, and slept in the middle of a king-sized bed. It was the most expensive vacation of my life, but compared to the cost of marrying a man who would have robbed me blind? It was a bargain.
