Divorce After Wedding Fiasco

Faced with the bride's continuous demands, Devin Berry looked uneasily between her and me, clearly stuck in a tough spot. The window of the lead limousine rolled down, and Raven Gilbert leaned out with a concerned look. "Devin, why aren’t you getting in the car? It’s almost time."

"My fiancée’s having a bit of a meltdown," Devin replied awkwardly. "I’ll sort it out quickly."

The bride gritted her teeth in frustration. "I’m not going through with this wedding!"

Just as she was about to kick off her pumps and bolt, panic flashed across Devin's face. "Listen, today is for both couples to get married. Clark and Raven were each other’s first loves and missed out after eight years apart. As a longtime friend, I’ve watched their rocky romance and wanted to help them out."

The bride listened, incredulous, while Devin lowered his voice. "Clark wants to give Raven the wedding she never had. Their love story is legendary and moving, and I can't sum it up in a few words. Please, just bear with us and rise above, okay?"

Seeing the bride’s expression remain tense, Devin looked at me with resignation. "Winnie is still here, you know. Imagine how she’d feel seeing you upset."

"There are so many guests waiting. Let’s keep our composure, alright?"

The bride cast a pitying glance at me, eventually relenting and getting into the second limousine. I quietly got into the last car, following along to the outdoor wedding venue.

The prick of a needle hurts when it first punctures the skin, but once you accept the pain, you stop noticing it.

Since today was Clark Davis’s wedding, how could I, his wife, not be present?

By the time our vehicle arrived at the venue, chaos had already erupted.

"Who arranged for the balloons and streamers? I specifically said I didn’t want them!" the bride cried, looking disheveled despite her meticulous preparation. "I got up at five this morning to do my makeup. How am I supposed to go on stage like this?"

Devin waved it off. "Raven said the ceremony needed a splash of grandeur. If your makeup’s smudged, just touch it up."

Raven, looking perfectly composed, stood apart. "Want me to help you fix your makeup?"

"No!" the bride snapped, storming into the dressing room and slamming the door behind her.

With that bit of drama over, I watched silently as Clark knelt and helped Raven swap her shoes for the ballet flats he’d bought her.

"The grass is uneven here," Clark said gently. "Flats will be safer."

I glanced down at my own high heels, feeling a sudden ache in my feet that seemed to reach my eyes, making them sting.

I escaped into the ladies' room and splashed my face with cold water, finally starting to feel a bit more composed. A moment later, Raven Gilbert pushed the door open and stepped in. She stood beside me, washing her hands and touching up her makeup. "Clark and I have been in love since high school," she said, her voice casual yet cutting. "We promised each other we’d go from prom dresses to wedding gowns. We're thirty-three now; we’ve reached a point where we don't want any regrets."

"You two have been married for seven years but never had a real wedding," she continued, her tone dripping with sweet venom. "And now he's giving me one right in front of you. I’d be worried if I were you, afraid jealousy might drive you insane."

It felt like someone was squeezing my heart in a vice. I replied, my voice raspy, "Clark always said you were pure and kind, untainted by the world's cynicism. Does he know how skillfully you can hit where it hurts?"

"But I’m not the one causing your pain," Raven said with a faint smile. "If you want to avoid hurting, here’s some advice: either let go of his hand or hold onto his heart."

I stood there, momentarily stunned, as if her words had reached straight into my core. It was like a fog lifted, the sun breaking through after a storm.

As I stepped out of the restroom, I saw Clark down the hallway, leaning against the wall, waiting for someone.

"She’s still inside, changing," I said automatically, assuming he was waiting for Raven.

Clark hesitated, then furrowed his brow. "Don’t be upset," he said quickly. "I’ll try to take some time off work. Maybe we can finally take that vacation this year, okay?"

Before I could respond, his gaze suddenly locked onto something behind me. His normally calm eyes now sparkled with surprise.

I turned to see Raven emerging, dressed in an exquisite Victorian-style gown, gracefully lifting its hem as she walked. She didn’t have to say a word. Clark immediately strode over to her, offering his arm.

They left me standing there, walking together toward the wedding ceremony.

Flora, the bride, appeared from the dressing room, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions as she looked at me. "Watching your husband marry his first love right before your eyes—how do you stay so composed?"

"It’s not about being composed," I replied, my gaze fixed on Clark and Raven as they walked away. "I attended this ceremony to find out something."

Watching them disappear down the aisle, I felt an unexpected calm. "Now I know. He never truly loved me."