He Gave Me a Used Condom at the Altar

"Do you, Aria Sterling, have the rings?" Pastor Miller asked, his voice echoing through the microphone.

"I do," I said.

The officiant extended the ring box, its crushed blue velvet soft against my trembling palms.

"Go ahead, baby," Julian whispered. "Open it."

I popped the tiny brass latch.

There was no platinum diamond band inside.

Instead, a clear, sticky, used condom sat pooled on the white satin cushion.

I held my breath, the sudden lack of oxygen making my chest ache.

"Julian," I whispered, tilting the box toward my groom. "What is this?"

Julian leaned in, his brow furrowing. "Aria, did you grab the wrong box from the hotel?"

"I didn't pack the rings. You gave this to the best man," I replied, my voice shaking.

Julian turned to Marcus. "Marc, what did you give her?"

"I handed her the box you left on the dresser," Marcus said, raising his hands defensively. "Don't pin this on me, man. I never opened it."

"Well, someone opened it!" Julian hissed.

A low murmur rippled through the church. Two hundred guests shifted in the wooden pews, the collective sound resembling a rising storm.

"Is this some kind of open marriage joke?" Aunt Susan muttered loudly from the second row.

"Kinky choice for a church wedding," a groomsman chuckled behind Julian.

"Silence, please," Pastor Miller urged, tapping the microphone.

But nobody was laughing on the altar.

A fiery, stinging sensation flared on my index finger. I stared down at my skin.

An angry red rash was already forming where I had grazed the latex. The skin blistered, the heat spreading to my palm.

"Aria, your hand. It's swelling," Julian said, his eyes darting to my fingers.

"I have a severe latex allergy, Julian. You know this," I said, my voice cutting through the rising chatter of the crowd.

"I know! I know you do," he stammered.

"I could go into anaphylactic shock from this!" I yelled.

"Someone must be playing a sick prank," Julian said, scanning the crowd.

"A prank?" I asked, anger replacing the initial shock. "I've been on the pill for three years. We don't use these."

"Then whose is it?" he asked, his face draining of color.

"That is the exact question you need to answer right now," I demanded.

"Aria, I swear to you, I have no idea how that got in there."

"You expect me to believe a used condom just magically appeared in our wedding ring box?" I challenged.

Julian's mother, Eleanor, stood up from the front row. "Aria, what on earth is going on up there? Stop holding up the ceremony."

"Ask your son, Eleanor," I called back to her. "Ask him why he brought a used condom to the altar."

Eleanor gasped, her hand flying to her pearls.

"Keep your voice down," Julian pleaded, grabbing my wrist. "People are staring. You're embarrassing us."

I yanked my arm away. "Don't touch me! I'm embarrassing you? I'm standing here having an allergic reaction!"

Standing in front of two