I was never supposed to be at this wedding.
That much was obvious from the way people stared. Their whispers floated after me like shadows as I walked through the glittering hall, pretending not to hear.
The place was breathtaking—gold and ivory everywhere, chandeliers dripping with crystals, and guests wrapped in designer gowns and tuxedos. It looked like a fairytale.
But I knew better.
Because this wasn’t just any wedding.
This was my sister’s wedding.
Erica. My little sister. My parents’ golden child. The one who had everything handed to her while I clawed and bled for every scrap of success. And now? She had taken the one thing I thought no one could steal.
Stan.
My fiancé. My future. The man I trusted. Until the night I came home early and found him in my bed—wrapped around Erica.
The memory still burned in me. The way Stan’s face twisted in guilt. The way Erica smirked, brushing her hair off her shoulder like she’d just won a trophy.
“I won, Paige,” she’d whispered with poison in her voice. “Checkmate.”
One month later, the wedding I had been planning for over a year was gone. My deposits—gone. My dream—gone. And Erica? She got to parade around with Stan, no longer sneaking behind my back.
I disappeared for a while, living in hotels, working remotely, trying to forget. Eventually, I came back and started fresh. I even got a kitten to keep me company.
Then the invitation came.
A year later, here I was, standing in Erica’s fairytale like an unwanted ghost. I knew my parents probably forced her to invite me. Erica wouldn’t have done it on her own—unless it was to gloat. And gloating was her specialty.
But what no one knew—not even Erica—was that I hadn’t come here to wallow.
I had come with a plan.
The ceremony itself blurred by. I barely listened to the officiant talk about “love” and “forever.” Those words were hollow to me. I just watched Stan’s face as he gazed at Erica like she was everything. I almost laughed.
Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart, I thought, sipping my champagne.
When the reception began, the atmosphere shifted to celebration. People laughed, glasses clinked, and a massive screen played a slideshow of Erica and Stan’s perfect engagement photos.
If you didn’t know the truth, you’d think they were the happiest couple alive.
But I knew better. And tonight, the world was about to know too.
I slipped through the crowd in my black dress, moving like smoke. I wasn’t just a guest—I was a storm. Reaching the laptop connected to the projector, I slid in my flash drive. A few clicks, a steadying breath, and then—
Showtime.
At first, no one noticed. People kept laughing and talking. Erica and Stan floated through the crowd like royalty, smiling at everyone.
And then Stan’s voice echoed through the speakers.
“Please, don’t leave me!”
The room went dead silent.
On the giant screen, the grainy footage from my bedroom camera played. Stan was crying on the bed, begging me.
“Erica means nothing to me, Paige! Absolutely nothing!” he sobbed. “She was a mistake! I love you! Please, I made a huge mistake!”
Every head turned. Gasps rippled through the hall.
Erica froze mid-step. Her smile vanished. Stan’s face turned white, his hands twitching uselessly.
But I wasn’t done.
The footage shifted. Camera after camera showed Erica and Stan sneaking into my house, slithering into my bed, timestamp after timestamp of betrayal. And then the worst clip of all—Erica laughing in my sheets.
“She’ll never know…” she giggled.
“Paige who?” Stan snorted, wrapping his arms around her.
A woman in the crowd gasped so loudly she dropped her champagne glass. It shattered across the floor.
My father’s jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grind. My mother looked like she might faint.
Chaos broke loose.
“This… this isn’t real!” Erica screeched, waving her arms. “It’s fake! Dinner will be served now! Everyone sit down!”
But the truth was already out, blazing across the giant screen.
Stan’s face twisted in fury. He spun toward her.
“Erica, you told me you deleted those videos from Paige’s computer!”
The crowd gasped again.
“Oh?” I said sweetly, my voice carrying. “So you knew? You knew you’d been caught?”
His silence was answer enough. Murmurs of disgust spread like wildfire.
And then a voice cut through the storm.
“Paige.”
I turned.
Jack stepped out of the crowd, dressed in a waiter’s uniform, setting down his tray of champagne. His blue eyes found mine—steady, calm, grounding me in the middle of chaos.
Weeks ago, I had told him about my plan. I didn’t want him caught in Erica’s games. But he’d insisted.
“Then I’ll go in as a waiter,” he had said firmly. “If you need me, I’ll be right there.”
And now he was.
Gasps rose again as Jack strode across the floor. Then, in front of everyone, he dropped to one knee.
The room froze.
He pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a stunning ring.
“I’ve waited long enough to ask you this, Paige,” he said, his voice unwavering. “My love, will you marry me?”
The crowd erupted into shock.
Erica’s scream tore through the air.
“Are you kidding me?! Here? At my wedding?! PAIGE!”
Her face was red, twisted with rage I had never seen before. She looked ready to explode.
But I couldn’t stop smiling.
Because she had stolen the wrong man. Stan was nothing compared to Jack. Jack was real. Jack was everything.
I turned to him, my heart hammering.
“Yes,” I said firmly. “Yes, Jack. I will marry you.”
The room exploded again—half in cheers, half in disbelief. My mother burst into tears, but this time, they weren’t from shame.
Erica’s shrieks grew louder. “This is MY day! MINE!” she screamed, stomping so hard her chair toppled.
I tilted my head, meeting her wild eyes.
“Oh, honey,” I said with a sweet smile. “You stole my wedding once. I just stole your spotlight.”
And with Jack’s hand in mine, I walked out, leaving her in ruins.
Later, Jack and I sat in a tiny diner, still dressed like we belonged at a ball. The cracked booths and greasy fries were a sharp contrast to the chaos we had just left, but it felt perfect.
He slid me a plate of fries. “Eat,” he ordered gently.
I laughed, finally breathing freely. “That’s an understatement.”
For a while, we sat in easy silence. Then I asked, “So… how long were you planning that proposal?”
He smirked. “Months. I was waiting until you were ready. But when I saw that invitation? I wasn’t going to let her humiliate you. I had to show her—and you—that you weren’t alone.”
I reached for his hand. “You chose the perfect moment.”
For the first time in a year, I felt like I had finally won.
