After a long silence, I let out a bitter, broken laugh.
Benjamin Delgado.
Did you have any idea that your self-righteous little act of "protection" just made you someone else's fall guy?
My phone buzzed with a string of messages from Benjamin, urging me to hurry. I pushed the thoughts down and typed back a calm reply.
"Fine. I'll be there."
I would go. But not to clear their names.
I was going to deliver the heaviest blow of their lives.
When I arrived at the wedding venue, every pair of eyes that found me carried the same look: mockery and contempt.
Elise's mother spotted me and marched straight over, spitting at my feet. Her voice was shrill enough to cut glass.
"You! You shameless little tramp! You're the one who ruined my daughter! Go to hell, you filthy whore!"
She and a handful of equally aggressive older women grabbed at my clothes, tearing at the fabric, the word whore flying from their mouths like a refrain until security finally pulled them off me.
I ignored every word. I smoothed my clothes, lifted my chin, and walked inside.
The ceremony was about to begin. The venue was packed with guests, and I could see media crews set up along the sides. Of course. Benjamin wanted to use this occasion to cement the story he'd been spinning online, to prove his and Elise's innocence in front of as many witnesses as possible.
The moment Benjamin saw me, relief washed over his face. He smiled the easy, knowing smile of a man who believed he'd already won.
He walked up and reached for my hand with practiced familiarity.
"See? Would it have killed you to cooperate from the start? Why'd you have to push things to where they went last night?"
"I already sent the bracelet out for restoration. I promise it'll come back looking exactly the way it was."
He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and held it out to me.
"Just read this when you get up there. It'll be over before you know it. Once the wedding wraps up, I'll come home and spend time with you, okay? And after that, I'll buy you a plane ticket. Go abroad for a while, lie low for three years. When the three years are up, I'll marry you."
I glanced down at the paper. It was a full confession, written in his hand, detailing how I had been so consumed by unrequited love and jealousy that I'd orchestrated a campaign to persecute Elise.
If I read this aloud, I would become the villain everyone already wanted me to be. The vicious, spiteful woman the whole country could hate without guilt.
I tore the paper to shreds and flung the pieces in his face.
White scraps of paper drifted through the air around him, framing the ugly expression that twisted his features.
I strode past him, climbed the steps to the stage, and signaled to the technician I'd already paid off. The backstage surveillance footage from that day began to play on the massive screen behind me.
I turned to the crowd and spoke, my voice ringing through the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen! I am indeed here to set the record straight!"
"But what I'm here to clarify is this: who is the real culprit behind what happened to Elise Simmons?"
