Three days before the wedding, my fiancé showed up at my door with four groomsmen in tow.
He watched them put their hands all over me—watched them slide their fingers up under my skirt—and didn't say a word.
"Messing with the bride is tradition around here. You wouldn't want to go and break the rules now, would you, sister-in-law?"
They all burst out laughing, eyes on me like I was a lamb lined up for slaughter.
I fought with everything I had, but I was no match for the strength of four grown men.
My fiancé's childhood sweetheart was right there the whole time, smoothing things over with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Sister-in-law, this is everyone's way of giving you their blessing."
"Resisting like this—do you not want your marriage to go smoothly?"
In the chaos, I grabbed the bedside lamp and smashed it on the floor. The crash froze everyone in place.
"Then the blessing's all yours."
"Want it?"
……
The sudden violence startled them to their feet, and for a moment no one moved.
One of the men backed up Claire's little speech.
"Whoa, sister-in-law, what are you doing? Claire's got it right—we're just here to wish you and Phil well."
"Pull a stunt like that and you're making Phil look bad in front of all of us."
The others nodded along eagerly, but I didn't miss the mocking amusement in their eyes.
I pulled my clothes tighter around myself, trying to cover what had been exposed.
The gesture only made them restless again.
"Don't bother covering up—it'll just be more trouble to take off later."
"You don't get it, sister-in-law. The rougher we go, the more sincere the blessing."
The one who'd been leading them said this as he reached his hand straight toward my chest.
I didn't say a word. I slapped him across the face as hard as I could.
The room went dead silent.
Phil, who hadn't said a single word this whole time, finally opened his mouth—face twisted with anger.
"Irene Gilbert! What the hell are you doing?"
"I grew up with these guys—ran around bare-assed together since we were kids. How could you lay a hand on him?"
Claire stepped forward then.
"It's these idiots' fault for taking it too far. They never know when to shut up. Don't take it to heart, sister-in-law."
"You and Phil are getting married in three days. We're all family here—nobody meant any harm."
"Look, both sides got a little out of line. Just drink one as an apology, and we'll put the whole thing behind us."
At some point she'd gone to the living room and come back with a glass of wine. She held it out toward me as she spoke, not bothering to hide the triumph in her eyes.
I gave Claire one cold look, then shifted my gaze to Phil, standing right behind her.
Gone was the irritation he'd just shown me.
Now Phil was smiling, watching Claire's back with an easy, indulgent look—like nothing else in the room even registered.
As if she were the only person in the world who existed for him.
When I said nothing, Claire turned to Phil.
"Sister-in-law's still upset with us. I guess we really did take the joke too far."
"How about this—I'll drink one myself. Don't be mad, sister-in-law. Nobody meant anything by it..."
Before she could finish, Phil had already snatched the glass out of her hand.
"Come on, put that down. Drinking's no good for you."
"Hanging around with us all the time—what, you actually think you're one of the boys now?"
Claire laughed and punched his arm playfully.
"See, only you know how to look after someone."
Phil grinned, tipped the glass back, and drained it in one go.
The two of them carried on like no one else was in the room. I watched them, and all I could think was how laughable it was.
"She's a girl, and I'm not?"
The moment the words left my mouth, the smile on Phil's face froze.
