On the morning of the wedding, the bridesmaids decided to play the "Wife Test."
“Final question,” one of them laughed. “What special mark does Elara have that only you would know? Answer correctly, and you can take the bride home!”
My face stiffened. Elara and I had never gone that far.
Before I could respond, her so-called male best friend, Dorian Mercer, jumped in.
“I know this one!” he declared proudly. “Elara has a star-shaped tattoo under her left breast. I even designed it for her.”
My blood ran cold.
When I didn’t answer, Dorian smiled as if to smooth things over.
“Don’t overthink it, Adrian. Elara and I grew up together. We used to run around naked as kids—I’ve even seen her naked. She’s like family to me.”
——
Elara blushed, lightly patting his arm. “Don’t talk nonsense.”
But Dorian caught her hand, grinning at me. “What’s there to hide? I even saw her showering last night. She left the door open.”
Laughter rippled through the room. Elara pushed him with a coy smile, not truly angry.
Not only did he know about her tattoo… he’d seen her in the shower?
The bouquet in my hand tightened until the rose thorns pierced my skin.
Through clenched teeth, I snapped, “Dorian. Enough.”
He blinked innocently, pointing straight at Elara’s chest. “What? Adrian, you haven’t seen it yet?”
Then he actually reached for the collar of her wedding dress. “Let the groom see for himself—”
“Dorian!” Elara shrieked, batting his hand away, but there was no real fury in her eyes.
The laughter around us only grew louder.
“Dorian really understands Elara!”
“That’s what true friendship looks like!”
Elara Ashbourne glanced at me nervously. “Adrian, don’t overthink it. He’s just a jokester. We grew up together like this.”
I opened my palm—the blood was already dripping between my fingers.
Her resistance looked more like performance than protest. Nothing about him felt like a ‘best friend.’
The head bridesmaid quickly tried to smooth things over. “Alright, enough! Adrian, come inside and pick up the bride.”
The others began to chant. “The groom has to show off a silly dance move!”
I turned my gaze back to Dorian, sneered, and suddenly lunged. I ripped open his jacket, exposing his abs.
“Since you’re so close to her, Dorian, why don’t you do the dance? Maybe one of the guys here will fall for you!”
His face drained of color. He yanked his collar shut. “Adrian, are you insane?”
Elara rushed to shield him, glaring at me. “What are you doing? It’s just a game. Do you have to make a scene?”
The bridesmaids froze, realizing I wasn’t joking anymore.
“Elara, look at him!” Dorian ducked behind her, voice full of false grievance. “He humiliated me in public. He discriminated against me!”
“Adrian! You’ve gone too far!” Elara snapped, spreading her arms to protect him like a mother hen. “I know better than anyone whether Dorian is gay. Don’t ruin our wedding day with your nonsense!”
Her words stabbed deeper than any thorn.
“You know better than anyone?” My voice dropped like ice. “And when he touched your chest, why didn’t you tell him to stop?”
“It was just a joke,” Dorian muttered smugly behind her.
“Adrian, can’t you be more mature?” Elara shouted at me. “Apologize to Dorian right now—or this wedding won’t happen!”
How many times had I heard this before?
When Dorian called her at midnight, whining he was “afraid of the dark,” she went to keep him company.
When he used my secondary bank card to buy a game console, she brushed it off.
Every time, she said the same thing.
“He’s my most important friend.”
