I wasn’t supposed to be at this wedding.
That much was clear from the sideways glances, the fake smiles, and the whispers that followed me as I walked across the golden, glittering hall.
The place was breathtaking, I’ll admit that. Ivory flowers hung like clouds from the ceiling, tall gold candelabras flickered with soft flames, and every guest wore gowns or tuxedos that probably cost more than my rent. On the surface, it looked like a perfect fairytale.
But no amount of sparkle could cover up the rot underneath.
Because this wasn’t just any wedding.
This was her wedding.
Erica.
My little sister. The “golden child.” The one our parents always favored, the one who was handed everything while I had to fight for every scrap.
And now? She had taken something that was supposed to be mine.
Stan.
He had been my fiancé. My future. The man I thought loved me—until the night I came home early from work and found him in bed with Erica.
I can still remember it, burned into my mind.
Stan froze, his face twisted in shame, trying to stammer out excuses. But Erica? My baby sister just smirked.
“I won, Paige,” she said coldly. “Checkmate.”
A month later, the wedding I had been planning for over a year was canceled. I lost deposits, I lost friends who couldn’t handle the drama, and I lost the man I thought I would marry. Meanwhile, Erica and Stan no longer had to sneak around. They got to flaunt their stolen romance out in the open.
I disappeared for a while after that—hotels, work trips, anything to escape. When I came back, I bought a kitten, tried to start over, and promised myself I was done crying about them.
Then came the invitation.
Erica was getting married to Stan, and she wanted me to be there.
I almost laughed when I opened the envelope. It had to be my parents who pressured her to invite me, because Erica would have loved nothing more than to celebrate her victory without me in sight. Or maybe—maybe she invited me just to twist the knife deeper. She was cruel enough for that.
But what she didn’t know—what nobody knew—was that I had a plan.
And tonight, her perfect day was going to fall apart.
The ceremony was a blur. I stood near the back, ignoring the preacher’s words about love and commitment. Stan stood there in a tuxedo, gazing at Erica like she was his salvation. Erica beamed back like she had won the biggest prize in the world.
I nearly laughed out loud.
Enjoy it while you can, sister, I thought, sipping my champagne.
When the reception began, the room buzzed with chatter and clinking glasses. Behind the dance floor, a giant screen played a slideshow of their engagement photos—Erica giggling as Stan lifted her into the air, their foreheads touching, their hands intertwined.
To anyone who didn’t know the history, they looked like the happiest couple alive. But I knew the truth. And I wasn’t going to let this fairy tale play out without a twist.
I moved through the crowd in my sleek black dress, my heels clicking against the marble floor. I wasn’t dressed like a guest. I was dressed like a storm.
At the table holding the laptop connected to the projector, I slipped in a flash drive. A few clicks, one deep breath. Showtime.
At first, nobody noticed. Glasses clinked, laughter rang out. Erica and Stan drifted from guest to guest.
Then, a voice boomed from the speakers.
“Please, don’t leave me!”
Stan’s voice.
The room fell silent. On the screen, grainy footage from my bedroom camera flickered to life. Stan sat on the edge of the bed, his face blotchy with tears, begging.
“Erica means nothing to me, Paige! Absolutely nothing! She was a mistake! I love you, Paige. I made a huge mistake!”
Gasps echoed across the hall. Guests froze, champagne glasses trembling in their hands.
I turned my head slowly toward Erica.
Her smile vanished. Her face went pale.
Stan’s jaw fell open, his body stiffening like he’d just seen a ghost.
But I wasn’t finished.
The footage shifted—more recordings from my cameras. Erica and Stan sneaking into my house, slipping into my bedroom when they thought I was working late. Clip after clip, timestamp after timestamp.
And then—the dagger.
Erica, sprawled in my bed, laughing.
“She’ll never know,” she whispered.
“Paige who?” Stan joked, laughing with her.
The room erupted. Someone dropped a glass. A woman whispered, “Oh my God.” My mother looked ready to faint. My father’s jaw clenched so hard it was audible.
Erica staggered back, her hands shaking. “This… this isn’t real! It’s fake!”
But it was too late. The evidence was glowing on the screen for everyone to see.
Stan spun on her, his voice like thunder. “You told me you deleted it! You said you took care of it!”
“Oh?” I said, letting my voice cut through the silence like a blade. “So you knew the cameras caught you? You just hoped Erica would clean up your mess?”
Stan’s face drained of color. He had given himself away.
The crowd murmured louder, disgust etched into their expressions.
And just when things were about to explode—another voice rose above the noise.
“Paige.”
I turned.
Jack.
He stepped forward, setting down the champagne tray he had been carrying. His crisp white shirt glowed under the lights, his sharp blue eyes locking on mine.
Jack had insisted on being here. When the invitation first arrived, he was the one who told me, “You don’t go through this alone.” He had disguised himself as a waiter, just so he could watch my back.
And now, right in front of everyone, Jack dropped to one knee.
The hall went silent again.
From his pocket, he pulled out a velvet box, opening it to reveal the most stunning ring I had ever seen.
“I’ve waited long enough to ask you this,” he said, his voice steady and strong. “Paige, will you marry me?”
The guests gasped. Erica shrieked.
“Are you kidding me?!” she screamed. “Paige! This is MY wedding! How dare you?!”
Her voice cracked, high and furious, but I barely heard her.
I only saw Jack, kneeling before me, everything in his eyes steady and true.
“Yes,” I whispered. Then louder, clearer, with every ounce of my heart: “Yes, Jack! I will!”
The hall erupted—some in shock, some cheering, some whispering furiously. My mother cried, this time tears of joy.
Erica’s face twisted with pure rage. “This is MY day!” she shrieked, stamping her foot, knocking her chair over.
I tilted my head, smiling sweetly.
“Oh, honey. You stole my wedding once. I just returned the favor and stole the show.”
And with Jack’s hand in mine, I walked out, leaving Erica screaming behind me, her perfect day shattered.
Later that night, Jack and I sat in a small, rundown 24-hour diner. My elegant black dress clashed with the cracked leather booth. Jack still looked like a movie star in his vest and shirt, but somehow, this greasy little diner felt more perfect than the golden hall we had just left.
Jack slid me a plate of fries. “Eat. You’ve had a long night.”
I laughed, picking one up. “That’s an understatement.”
For a while, we just sat in peace, the hum of the diner wrapping around us. Finally, I asked, “How long have you been planning that proposal?”
“The proposal?” Jack smirked, sipping his milkshake. “Months. But I waited. You needed time to heal, Paige. I wasn’t going to rush that. But when I found out she invited you? That was it. I wasn’t going to let you stand there alone while she tried to flaunt him.”
I shook my head, smiling. “So you really posed as a waiter?”
“I called in a favor,” he grinned. “Turns out, I look good holding a tray.”
I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my drink.
Then he leaned closer, his eyes softening. “I meant every word, Paige. I love you. And I’ll wait as long as you need. But tonight… tonight felt like the right moment.”
I reached for his hand, my chest swelling with something I hadn’t felt in a long time—peace.
“You chose the perfect moment,” I said softly.
And for the first time since my sister’s betrayal, I knew without a doubt—this time, I had truly won.