Chapter 1
Here we are, at the wedding, standing at the altar, the priest in front of us. This is the greatest day of my life, I won’t even pretend otherwise.
My heart’s racing, but it’s not nerves. It’s excitement. Pure, unfiltered joy. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of is coming to life right here, right now.
Brandon’s standing beside me, looking like he’s carved from stone, his suit perfectly tailored, his hair slicked back like he just stepped out of a magazine. He squeezes my hand gently, and I can feel the warmth of his touch. This is it. This is real.
The priest clears his throat before he speaks, “If anyone has any reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
I let out the tiniest breath of relief, knowing…just knowing that no one’s going to say anything. Who would? Everyone here loves us. This is perfect.
But then, like something out of a bad movie, it happens.
“I object.”
The words came right into the room, sharp and cold.
My heart stutters in my chest as everyone turns to look. There she is. A blonde. Short black dress that screams trouble.
Her makeup is dark, almost theatrical, with smoky eyes that could burn holes through you and lashes so long they look like they could carry her away if she blinked hard enough.
She’s smiling. No, smirking. It’s the kind of smirk that makes your stomach drop, like you already know this isn’t going to end well.
She starts walking toward us, her heels clicking against the floor, each step echoing in my ears.
The priest looks flustered but manages to ask, “Who are you?”
She stops, tilting her head like she’s considering how much damage she can do before answering.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she says, her tone filled with mockery. “Pray for me, won’t you? I’m Brandon’s fuck buddy.”
My heart stops. It actually stops.
I’m frozen, staring at her, my mind racing but going absolutely nowhere at the same time.
What did she just say?
I glance at Brandon. He’s glaring at her, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he snaps at her.
It’s pretty clear that he knows her.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” she purrs, brushing off his anger like it’s nothing. “I thought you’d appreciate me telling your fiancée the truth. You’ve been screwing me for months, Brandon. Hell, we had sex this morning, didn’t we?”
The room erupts into gasps and whispers, but I don’t hear any of it. My ears are ringing, my vision tunneling.
This…this can’t be real.
“Shut the hell up!” Brandon snarls at her, stepping forward. But she doesn’t.
“Oh, relax,” she snaps back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’m just doing her a favor. Better she knows now, right?”
I don’t move. I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. My head is spinning.
Do I believe her? Do I trust Brandon? I thought I did, but now…?
I’m looking at him, searching for something…anything that tells me this isn’t true. But his face is a storm, all anger and no answers.
God, I thought I knew him. I thought I knew what kind of person he was.
Could he really…? No.
But then again, how would I know? How would I ever know?
“Is it true?” I finally manage to ask Brandon, my voice a whisper.
The blonde laughs, stepping closer and tapping my shoulder like we’re old friends.
“Oh, honey, don’t stress yourself. He’s not going to tell you the truth. Men like him? They never do.”
I glare at her, my anger very clear, before I turn back to Brandon. “Tell me. Tell me the truth, Brandon.”
He sighs heavily, dragging a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. He doesn’t say anything, and that silence feels louder than the whispers spreading through the room.
The blonde chuckles, crossing her arms. “See? He won’t admit it. But don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not done yet.”
She turns to Brandon, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “I’ve got a surprise for you, love. Oh, and just so you know, I adore the sex. God, it feels so good when you make me moan your name every single day.”
“Enough!” the priest snaps at her. “Mind your words. This is a sacred space.”
The blonde laughs louder, throwing her head back like she finds all of this amusing.
“Oh, Father, I can’t help it. Your boy here is just…irresistible. And now…” she places a hand on her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
The room erupts into chaos. Gasps. Whispers. People murmuring behind their hands. But all I can hear is my heartbeat, pounding in my ears.
This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Is this a dream? A nightmare?
I look at Brandon, my vision blurred with tears. He steps toward me like he wants to explain, to touch me, but I take a step back, shaking my head.
“Don’t,” I snap, my voice breaking. “Don’t come closer.”
My hands tremble as I throw my bouquet to the floor. Tears spill over as I shake my head again, my chest heaving.
“How…how could you?” I ask, the words barely coming out of my mouth.
And then I run. Out the door. Away from him. Away from everything.
****
I push through the bar’s door, where I usually work at night, the familiar scent of alcohol and stale air hitting me like a wave.
It’s quiet…too early for the usual crowd.
Good. I don’t want people, questions, or sympathy.
Ben’s behind the counter, wiping down glasses like always. He looks up, furrowing his brows the moment he spots me in my wedding dress.
“Aria? What the hell? Why aren’t you..”
“Don’t,” I snap, cutting him off before he can finish. “It’s none of your business. Just give me a drink.”
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t move. “You okay? You don’t look…”
“I said it’s none of your business!” My voice comes out sharper than I intended, but I don’t care.
Ben holds up his hands, backing off. “Alright, alright. Take it easy.”
He grabs a bottle of whiskey and slides it over. “Here. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I grab the bottle without a word and head to the farthest table in the corner. Sitting down, I twist the cap off and take a long swig, the burn in my throat a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest.
The scene replays in my mind, over and over. Her smug face, Brandon’s silence, the words I’m pregnant. My stomach churns, but I keep drinking.
I’m a mess. A total, broken mess.
How did this become my life? How did I go from being so happy, so sure, to…this? I don’t even know if I want to keep going.
The bottle’s halfway empty when it hits me..Oh crap, I’m going to be sick.
I stumble to the side, throwing up as my body rebels. I do work as a bartender, but I’m terrible when it comes to alcohol. Very very terrible, and I continue drinking, like it’s the end of the world. But if it was, that would have been really nice.
