Max is ready to marry the love of his life until he learns the truth. With only 72 hours left before the wedding, he devises a plan for ultimate betrayal. As Sofia walks down the aisle, she expects the fairytale wedding she has planned. But Max is determined to turn their wedding into payback.
Everything was perfect.
The venue was bathed in golden light, the floral arrangements were flawless, and the guests were smiling, chatting and sipping champagne.
Everything was exactly as it should be. It was the wedding of her dreams, the one Sofia had been dreaming of for months.
She had thought through every detail, right down to the little bags of sweets so that the guests wouldn’t get bored if they wanted to eat during the ceremony.
But just as my bride had planned her dream wedding, I had also planned every detail of my moment.
I stood at the entrance, clasping my hands and holding my breath. The music started, signalling the bridesmaids to get ready to come out.
I looked around: the expectant faces of our guests, the carefully selected decorations and the warm glow of the candles. It was the perfect romantic wedding scene.
Everything was exactly as it should be.
And yet I wasn’t nervous. Not one bit.
Not anymore.
72 hours ago
I don’t remember how I sat down.
One minute I was standing at the window of my flat, looking at the cityscape. The next minute I was lying on the sofa, resting my head on my hands and trying to catch my breath.
Elena sat across from me, silent and waiting. Her words still echoed in my head. Over and over, like a song I just couldn’t turn off.
‘I saw her, Max. With him. I wasn’t looking for it, I swear! But I saw them.’
‘Are you sure? Elena, I need you to be sure.’ My voice sounded thin and unfamiliar to me.
‘Max, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure,’ she said.
The room felt too small. My flat, once filled with wedding gifts, seating plans and excitement, now felt like a prison cell. I wanted to run away, to escape this conversation.
How could Sofia have betrayed me?
‘Tell me everything,’ I said.
Elena hesitated for a moment. Then she straightened her shoulders and met my gaze with an expression of sympathy.
“I was at a new coffee shop that thrives on veganism. I was getting my coffee when I saw Sofia sitting at a corner table.”
She paused.
‘She wasn’t alone, Max.’
‘Who?’ I asked.
“I don’t know his name, but he looked so familiar. He could have been one of her friends. I know I’ve seen him before. But I know how he looked at her, Max. And I know how she looked back at him.”
‘That doesn’t mean anything, Elena,’ I said.
‘Sophia touched his face, whispered something, and then leaned towards him first, Max. And then they kissed.’
For a brief, pitiful second, I almost convinced myself it was a misunderstanding. A mistake. But Sofia wasn’t careless. She was calculating.
She wouldn’t have let a man kiss her in public if she didn’t know she wouldn’t get caught. Unless she thought she had all the power and none of the people who know us would catch her.
‘Max, I know it hurts,’ Elena said. “But I took a photo. I knew you’d need proof.”
‘Show me,’ I said, feeling my heart break as I looked at Elena’s phone.
I blinked, looking at my hands. They seemed different. They felt detached from me.
‘She said she loved me,’ I muttered. ‘Our wedding is in 72 hours, Elena. What am I supposed to do now? Call off the wedding?’
‘No way!’ Elena said. ‘Teach her a lesson!’
I looked up and for the first time since we started talking, I met Elena’s gaze with clear, unwavering fury.
‘She won’t get away with this.’
Elena didn’t look surprised.
‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.
Something cold settled in my chest. I stood up and walked over to the window. Deep, deadly clarity. I adjusted my tie, as if I had already made up my mind.
‘I’ll let her have her big day,’ I said. ‘But not the way she planned it.’
A slow smile played on Elena’s lips.
‘Tell me what you need, brother,’ she said. ‘I’ll do whatever you need.’
The Gift
The music grew louder, signalling the arrival of the first bridesmaid.
As they took to the stage one by one, a wave of unease swept through the crowd. The hall, once bustling with quiet conversation, was completely transformed.
The bridesmaids were dressed in black, as if in mourning. Some of them had to be persuaded, but when they saw the evidence provided by Elena and me, none of them wanted to stand behind a liar.
They weren’t wearing the soft sky blue colour that Sofia wanted. Not the carefully chosen pastel shades that matched the invitations and floral arrangements.
No.
They were in black.
One by one, they moved forward, their faces indistinguishable. Their dark dresses contrasted sharply with the delicate white petals scattered along the aisle.
That’s when the whispering started. Sofia and I come from traditional families, so bridesmaids in black were a big problem. Several heads turned towards each other and frowned in confusion.
‘This is so inappropriate, Max!’ I could almost hear my mother shouting.
‘Oh, that’s a bad omen,’ I imagined my grandmother saying.
Without looking away, I watched as my sister, Elena, took her place at the entrance. She met my gaze and, so subtly that no one noticed, winked.
I exhaled slowly.
Yes.
Everything was going according to plan.
Then the doors at the back of the hall opened.
Sofia stepped forward, beaming. I have to admit, she looked stunning. A vision in white.
She took one step into the hall and then froze.
For a moment, she didn’t understand. The smile froze on her lips as she scanned the crowd, expecting to see joy, excitement, and the warmth of celebration.
But instead, she saw black dresses.
And her expression changed.
Her eyes darted from one bridesmaid to another, taking in the dark silhouettes, the sombre energy, and the whispers of the guests.
The colour drained from her face.
Her lips parted slightly, as if to ask a question, but no words came. Her hand tightened around the bouquet. She knew something was wrong.
There was hesitation in her movements as she continued walking. The usual confidence in her gait was gone. Every step down the aisle seemed uncertain.
When she reached me, her hands were trembling slightly, and she took mine.
Her fingers were cold.
‘What’s going on, Max? Why did they change the dresses? What the hell? They ruined the whole aesthetic!’
I smiled at her. But there was no warmth in her. I no longer felt any affection for this woman.
‘Wait. You don’t know?’ I asked, my voice loud enough for her to hear.
The room fell silent.
Sophia scanned the room. From me to the bridesmaids, to my sister standing next to them.
I turned slightly, gesturing towards the line of women dressed in mourning.
‘This isn’t a wedding, Sofia,’ I said, my voice calm.
Too calm. But I was calm. I had had several days to get my feelings under control.
‘It’s a funeral,’ I smiled.
A collective gasp swept through the room. Our guests looked horrified. My mother looked as if she was about to faint.
Sophia’s fingers clenched desperately around mine.
‘What are you talking about?’ she gasped.
I let out a small, humourless laugh.
‘We’re here to bury what’s left of our love. Or, more accurately,’ I said, watching her begin to get nervous, ‘what you killed.’
The silence was suffocating. Then there was a murmur. Someone in the second row covered their mouth with their hand.
Someone else turned to the person sitting next to them and whispered something urgently.
Sophia’s face flushed.
The panic in her eyes turned into something else. Anger.
And then, finally, it dawned on her.
She wrenched her hands from mine and turned, her rage finding a new target.
‘You told him?!’ she hissed, her voice cutting through the air.
Now Sophia was looking directly at the bridesmaids.
No. She was accusing them.
Her face was contorted with rage.
“How could you do that?! You’re my closest people! My closest friends! And it’s none of your business. Absolutely not. What the hell?”
‘At first, we didn’t want to believe Elena,’ said Maddie, Sofia’s best friend. ‘But after she showed us the evidence… we all realised that Max deserved better.’
Elena took a small step forward. I knew that look on my sister’s face. She was trying her best to keep her composure. But when she spoke, her voice was flat, cold and final.
‘Sofia, this became our business the moment we found out what kind of person you really are.’
She lifted her chin slightly.
‘It became our business the moment we found out who my brother was going to spend his life with.’
Sofia clenched her fists.
‘You had no right!’ she cried, her voice rising hysterically.
I bowed my head.
‘No right? Really? To know the truth about the woman I was going to marry?’
She turned back to me, despair breaking through her anger.
‘I can explain… Max!’
I shook my head. I couldn’t bear to listen to her explanations. Or lack thereof. On the one hand, I wanted to know everything. On the other, I just wanted Sophie out of my life forever.
‘No, Sophie,’ I said after a moment. My voice was quiet. Controlled. Deadly.
‘You just don’t like being caught.’
A stifled sound escaped her lips. A mixture of rage, humiliation, and something close to fear. Her eyes darted around the room again, looking for someone to take her side.
But no one moved. No one dared make a sound. No one came to her aid.
The guests froze in their seats, too stunned to react.
Sophia’s bridesmaids stood silently, their black dresses making them look more like rowers than wedding guests.
She had never felt so alone. I could see it in her face.
Sophia gasped for breath.
Then she turned and ran. The skirt of her dress flew up into the air. But in her haste, she tripped over the hem.
A gasp rippled through the crowd as she stumbled, and she barely managed to catch herself before stumbling again. Her hands clutched at the fabric of her dress, lifting it so high that it flew towards the altar.
No one stopped her. No one called out to her. Not even her parents or brother.
I exhaled slowly, holding my breath without realising I was holding it.
Then I turned to Elena.
She came closer and held out her hand to me. I squeezed it in gratitude. Around me, the guests froze in shock, their eyes darting between me and the empty space where Sofia had been a few minutes ago.
I looked at my sister, my family, and my bridesmaids, who stood beside me today not as part of a wedding, but as part of something else entirely.
‘I know this isn’t what everyone expected,’ I said to the crowd. ‘But I’m tired of pretending. Go inside, eat, drink. I’ll be fine.’
I walked down the aisle, needing a few moments to myself before returning to the hall. And then I saw her.
She was sitting on the sidelines, her white dress clinging to her like a ghost of the life she had lost.
Her hands were shaking, her shoulders slumped, and she was no longer the radiant bride. She was just a woman who had finally run out of lies.
She looked up when I approached, her mascara smudged, her eyes red and pleading. She reached out, her fingers brushing my sleeve, then grabbed my wrist, clinging to it like a lifeline.
‘Max,’ she said. ‘Please. I’ll do anything… just don’t let this end.’
I didn’t answer. Instead, I pulled away.
‘I ruined everything,’ she said. ‘I got scared. I was stupid. But it was never real with him. It was always you, Max. It was always you…’
For a moment, I just looked at her.
‘If it had always been me,’ I said quietly, ‘you wouldn’t have to say that.’
‘Please,’ she begged.
‘I’ll ask your mum to bring you dinner,’ I said.
I turned away without stopping. I didn’t look back.
Instead, I went back to the hall and ate the dinner Sofia had planned.
It was supposed to be a fairy tale.
But fairy tales end when the villain shows his true colours. And Sofia had just written the ending herself.
