The ballroom shimmered with white fairy lights, alive with celebration. I stood at its heart, my white gown radiant, Alan’s hand warm in mine.
After our first dance, applause filled the air. Guests toasted with champagne; my mother dabbed her eyes; Alan’s parents beamed. Perfection.
“I need a quick bathroom break,” I whispered, kissing Alan’s cheek.
His fingers traced mine. “Hurry back, princess. The night’s still young.”
Passing the gift table, I noticed Leah standing nearby, visibly distressed.
“Leah? Everything okay?”
Her pregnant belly seemed unnaturally rigid. Something felt wrong.
“Your bump… it looks different,” I remarked, stepping closer.
Leah’s hand instinctively covered her stomach. “Don’t touch,” she whispered.
Ignoring her plea, I reached out. Her stomach was unnaturally solid, like a hidden box beneath her dress.
Suddenly, a wrapped present fell from under her dress, landing with a thud.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” I gasped.
Leah’s eyes darted nervously. “Don’t open it, Selena. Please.”
But curiosity overcame me. I untied the ribbon and opened the box. Inside were photographs of Alan with another woman—intimate moments captured in vivid color.
“What. Are. These?” I cried.
The room seemed to close in.
Alan appeared, his face pale. “Selena,” he began, but his voice faltered.
I held up a photo of them in a sauna. “Explain. Now.”
Leah stood frozen, guilt and fear in her eyes.
“These look pretty damn intimate,” I snapped, spreading the photos on the table.
Alan reached out. “Please, not here—”
“HERE IS PERFECT! Explain to everyone how these photos aren’t what they look like.”
“I can explain,” Alan whispered. “It’s not what you think.”
The music halted. Champagne glasses stopped clinking. Our perfect world had shattered.
“Start talking, Alan. Spit it out. I want every. Single. Detail.”
“Selena, stop. He’s innocent,” Leah interjected.
Her hands twisted her dress. Tears welled in her eyes.
“It’s all my fault,” she sobbed. “I wanted to protect you.”
Alan stood rigid, his jaw clenched.
“Protect me? From what?” I demanded.
Leah’s words tumbled out. “Weeks ago, I noticed things—Alan’s late nights, gym visits, always looking perfect. I hired a private investigator who captured these photos. I wanted you to see the truth before the wedding.”
“But the courier couldn’t find you,” she continued. “I saw him at the reception and asked if the bride had received any parcel. He said he’d put the package with the other wedding gifts.”
“I was furious,” Leah added. “But then I met the woman from the photos. Turns out, she and Alan were just colleagues. There was nothing going on.”
Alan stepped forward. “Oh my God… how could you…”
“I’m so sorry,” Leah interrupted.
The room held its breath.
“But why bring these photos to my wedding?” I asked.
“Because I thought I was doing the right thing,” Leah replied. “Sometimes, love makes us do destructive things.”
Alan turned to her, fury in his eyes. “You had no right to do this. No right to destroy my wedding day with your misguided crusade.”
“I was trying to protect her—”
“Protect her? You nearly destroyed everything.”
His eyes blazed with rage.
“I’ve given everything to Selena,” Alan continued. “Every late night, every hour at the gym… it was all for us. And you twisted it into something ugly?”
Leah began to cry, her hands covering her face.
Alan turned to me, his eyes soft but filled with pain. “Do you trust me that little?”
My heart shattered. The white gown felt suffocating. Tears streamed down my face.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I should’ve believed in you.”
Alan’s anger melted. He stepped closer, gently wiping my tears.
“Hey, we’re okay.”
“How can you forgive me so easily?” I asked.
He smiled. “Because love isn’t about being perfect. It’s about choosing each other.”
The music resumed. Guests danced. Our perfect day began to heal.
“I trust you,” I whispered. And in that moment, I meant every word.
The night ended. Doubt faded. Trust remained. Forever.