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She disappeared with her cart. I stood in the hallway, breathing through my nose, replaying the image burned into my retinas. Sophie on top of Garrett. My face on her body while she took everything I’d built and ground it into hotel sheets.

The maid returned with a small bottle. Pressed it into my palm.

“Give them hell, honey.”

She walked away, leaving me alone with a bottle of revenge and a decision to make. I could hear them moving around inside now. Sophie giggling about something. Garrett groaning.

I pulled out my phone. Time to make a plan.

My husband thought he’d married a good girl. A careful girl. A girl who’d never make a scene. He had no idea who he’d really married.

But he was about to find out.

3

— • —

Sam

An hour later, I walked back into my reception looking like the perfect bride.

New dress, shorter and tighter than the first one. Fresh lipstick. Hair still pinned up despite the bathroom breakdown. Nobody would have guessed I’d spent the last sixty minutes putting together the most devilish plan I could think of.

“There she is!” My cousin Lisa rushed over, already three drinks in. “You look amazing! Where’s your mother? She was looking for you.”

“Really?” I accepted her hug, my phone burning a hole in my clutch. “I’ll try to find her. Hey, have you seen the photographer? I want to make sure they get everything.”

“Oh, they’re around somewhere. This is such a beautiful reception, Sam. You must be so happy.”

“Happiest day of my life.”

The lie came out smooth as silk. Smile. Nod. Deflect. Don’t let them see you plotting revenge while their world keeps spinning normally.

I made my rounds through the ballroom, accepting congratulations and dodging questions about where I’d been. My phone felt radioactive in my purse. One tap and I could destroy everything. But timing was everything, and I’d learned patience from the best.

My mother, who’d waited three years to tell us about the cancer.

Garrett reappeared exactly fifteen minutes after I did, sliding through the crowd with his politician’s smile. His tie was slightly crooked. His hair just a touch too messy. And if you looked closely, really closely, you could see him fighting the urge to scratch his crotch. I almost smiled.

The fiberglass powder was already working.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” he said, wrapping an arm around me. His hand went to his hip, then jerked away. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Just needed a moment. Wedding days, you know?”

“Tell me about it.” He shifted his weight, then shifted again. His smile got tighter. “Everything okay?”

“Perfect. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and I caught a whiff of perfume that wasn’t mine. Sophie’s perfume. The one she’d been wearing since high school because she never grew out of anything.

“I’m going to grab some water,” he said, already moving away. His walk was stiff, controlled. The walk of a man trying very hard not to claw at his own skin. “Back in a second.”

I watched him go, then turned to find Sophie floating through the crowd like pregnancy made her a fucking fairy princess. She touched her belly every thirty seconds, reminding everyone about the miracle of life growing inside her after so many years of trying.

“Sam!” She appeared at my elbow, glowing with fake exhaustion. “Sorry I missed the dress change. This little one is really taking it out of me.”

“No worries. Feeling better?”