Seeing them flirt again, I snatched up a beer bottle.
“So, you want me to drink to apologize? Fine, I’ll drink.”
Vanessa’s face lit with smug satisfaction.
“Great, sis-in-law. Chug this whole bottle and I’ll forgive you.”
I raised the bottle with a smile.
“But you drank half for Jason earlier, right? Guess you can drink the other half for me.”
Then I upended the bottle over her head.
Screams erupted in the banquet hall.
Beer drenched Vanessa from head to toe, but I ignored the chaos. I walked straight out, drove home, and found myself surrounded by the glaringly red wedding decorations.
A stabbing pain pierced my chest. I clutched the wall, slid down, and felt tears fall before I realized it.
Ryan and I had been classmates at NYU.
At first, I dated him because he was handsome. But soon after, my family’s company faced bankruptcy.
Ryan didn’t leave. Instead, he handed me all the savings he’d been putting away since childhood to help my parents.
When he saw I couldn’t afford my usual designer bags, he worked a summer job to buy me a small branded wallet.
I still remember him sweating inside a mascot costume, shyly handing me that wallet. In that moment, I thought: This is the man I’ll marry.
Thankfully, my family survived the crisis and I remained the Summers heiress.
After graduation, my parents disapproved of Ryan’s average background. But I was convinced he was the man who’d stand by me through thick and thin.
So they relented, granting Ryan control of a Summers subsidiary in New York and buying us a luxury condo in Manhattan.
Tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding day. And today, his groomsmen had staged this humiliating circus.
Nausea rose in me like worms crawling in my stomach. I rushed to the bathroom to vomit.
Soon, Ryan came storming in, furious.
“Emily! Who gave you permission to treat Bro Vanessa like that?”
While I was still heaving, his first reaction wasn’t to check on me—it was to defend that woman.
This marriage, I realized, truly wasn’t worth it.
I lifted my tear-rimmed eyes and sneered.
“Bro Vanessa? So does she have something between her legs, or do you not? Is that why you two are the same gender now?”
Ryan’s face flushed with rage as he raised his hand.
“Emily, shut up!”
Tears burned my eyes, sorrow and anger flooding me.
“What now? You’re going to hit me for her?”
Ryan dropped his hand and sighed, softening his tone.
“Come on, baby, don’t be mad. Vanessa’s been my bro since childhood. There’s nothing between us. And tomorrow’s our wedding—your parents spent so much on it. You don’t want their efforts wasted, right?”
He reached out, trying to hug me with that infuriating grin.
I shoved him away.
“Are you threatening me?”
He shrugged.
“Just stating the facts. Besides, Vanessa’s one of my groomsmen. Can’t exactly have the lineup missing someone, can we?”
I laughed bitterly.
“Funny, I’ve never heard of a female groomsman before.”
Ryan scowled, impatient.
“You’ve never heard of plenty of things. This is nothing.”
“Nothing?” I snapped.
“On Valentine’s Day, I booked the best restaurant in Manhattan six months in advance. One phone call from your female bro and you ditched me for the entire night. That was ‘nothing’ too?”
