The day before we were supposed to get our marriage license, I caught my fiancée in bed with my best friend. I dragged her into the bathroom and scrubbed her down with disinfectant three times until her skin was raw. Then I took photos of that bastard down on his knees, weeping and begging for mercy, and posted them online until the entire city watched him unravel. I didn’t foresee the fallout. My father had a massive stroke from the shock and scandal, ending up completely paralyzed, and our modest family business spiraled toward bankruptcy. Just as I was ready to drag both of them down to hell with me, Lauren—my ex-fiancée’s fiercest rival—pulled me back from the edge. “Are you really going to destroy yourself over trash?” she asked, her hands steady against my trembling shoulders. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be here with you.” I thought she was my salvation. In our third year of marriage, I carried a medical report home, eager to give her the surprise of our lives. The orthopedic specialist had finally cleared me—the shattered knee from three years ago, the injury that had left me with a permanent limp, could finally be repaired with surgery. I was going to walk normally again. Then I paused outside her home office and heard her voice through the cracked door. She was on a video call with Megan, my former fiancée. Lauren’s eyes were tight, her expression a knotted tangle of quiet grief and longing. “I’ll definitely be at your wedding,” Lauren said quietly. “As long as Toby is happy with you… these three years I spent with Ian were worth it.” I stood frozen in the hallway. The blood drained from my limbs, rushing back to my core in an icy, suffocating wave. Lauren glanced up and saw me. The warmth in her eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a wall of suspicion. She stiffened, clearly expecting the same violent, unhinged explosion I’d unleashed three years ago. Instead, I stepped into the room, walked calmly past her desk, and leaned toward the glowing webcam. “Congratulations on the wedding,” I said, my voice eerily level. “I hope you two get everything you deserve.” … The laptop snapped shut with a sharp crack. “Ian, what are you trying to pull now?” Lauren glared at me, her eyes rimmed in red, looking at me as if I were a feral beast off its chain. “Nothing,” I answered softly. “Just offering a sincere blessing.” She let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “Don’t play the saint. If you had an ounce of grace in you, you wouldn’t have publicly crucified Toby three years ago. You wouldn’t have driven him into severe clinical depression!” In that single, crystalline second, the fog cleared. These three years weren’t my redemption. They were Toby’s sanctuary. She had married me to keep a rabid dog on a leash so the man she secretly loved could heal in peace. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat. “Think whatever you want. If you want a divorce, I’ll sign the papers today.” Three years ago, seeing the woman I loved tangled in our wedding sheets with the man I called a brother had shattered my mind. I had raged, I had screamed, I had punished them with every ounce of fury in my veins, willing to burn the world down around us. I broke. I became hysterical. And my reward for all that agony was another three years of choreographed lies. Lauren’s expression faltered, surprise flickering across her features before settling into an icy frown. “You don’t need to play games with me. We’ve been married for three years. As long as you leave Toby alone, I won’t ever divorce you.” During my darkest nights, this woman had sat by my bedside, spoon-feeding me medication, holding my trembling hands until dawn whenever the night terrors took over. Now, remembering those nights only made my skin crawl with an unbearable chill. Seeing me stand there in silence, my eyes burning, her tone softened slightly. She gestured toward an elegant gift box on the glass coffee table. “Open it. It’s our anniversary gift. The watch you’ve been eyeing.” She had played the doting, tender wife so well. So well that I’d forgotten people like me don’t get happy endings. We just get traded between different betrayals. I gave a dry, self-deprecating laugh, picked up the velvet box, and tossed it into the stainless-steel trash can. In the kitchen, the housekeeper let out an audible gasp. Lauren’s face darkened instantly, her jaw clenching. “Ian, are you done throwing a tantrum? I knew it. You never change!” She didn’t see that nestled beneath the velvet box in the trash was the doctor’s surgical clearance. Before she could lay into me further, her phone trilled on the desk. Toby’s light, youthful voice filtered through the speaker. “Lauren? The custom tuxedo you had tailored for me… you didn’t forget, did you?” Her sharp edge melted away in an instant, her voice turning impossibly gentle. “Of course not. It’s been ready for days. I’ll bring it over right now.” I watched her hurry out the front door, her steps practically skipping. Inside my chest, the very last tether snapped clean. I blinked away the heat behind my eyes, pulled out my phone, and called my attorney. “Draft the divorce papers. Have them delivered to Lauren’s office in three days.” Half an hour after she left, my phone buzzed with an incoming message from an unknown number. It was a video file. I tapped play. There, framed in warm banquet lighting, was my bedridden, paralyzed father. He was standing on his own two feet at Toby and Megan’s rehearsal dinner, glowing with health and beaming with genuine pride. On screen, my father slid an antique jade ring off his thumb and slipped it onto Toby’s finger. “Ian’s temper is tyrannical and unhinged,” my father said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve suffered so much over the years, my boy. I couldn’t let him ruin your life. As long as you and Megan can be happy, I’m willing to play the paralyzed invalid for the rest of my days—just to keep him too exhausted to cause trouble for you.” My own flesh and blood. Every syllable a calculated execution. My fingers gripped the phone so hard the glass threatened to crack. A violent spasm seized my chest. For three years, I had juggled three separate freelance jobs on top of my day work, skipping meals and running myself into the dirt just to pay for his experimental physical therapy and round-the-clock nursing care. I had prayed on my knees every single night, begging God for my dad to open his eyes and recognize me again. And all this time, he already had another son. A white-hot surge of betrayal incinerated my remaining reason. I pulled up the geotag from the video and drove straight to the banquet hall. When I shoved open the suite doors, the room fell dead silent. My father froze, then instinctively stepped forward, shielding Toby behind his back. “Whatever you want, take it out on me!” my father barked, glaring at me. “Don’t you dare ruin things for them. Their wedding is tomorrow!” A hollow, jagged ache tore through my ribs. I looked at him, laughing softly at the grotesque absurdity of it all. “So that’s it? Three years lying in a hospital bed, pretending to be a vegetable… just to protect their wedding?” Three years of silence. Not a single word, not a single look of warmth for me. Yet behind closed doors, he was playing proud father to someone else. Toby peeked out from behind him, his cheeks flushed, looking every bit the cherished, protected prince. My father grabbed my arm, tears welling in his eyes. “Toby’s mother died when he was young! I made a solemn promise to his father that I would look after him, Ian! I couldn’t break my word! Besides, aren’t you happy now? Lauren treats you like royalty! What more could you possibly want?” Yes, what more could I want? He was willing to sacrifice his biological son’s entire life, pawn my youth and sanity away, all to honor a dead mistress’s memory. What were my sleepless nights worth? What was my guilt worth? Toby stepped out, his eyes wide and brimming with staged innocence. He reached out to take my hand, his voice trembling. “Ian, I kept the spot of best man open just for you. I don’t want to lose my best friend.” I recoiled and ripped my hand away in disgust. Before I could speak, Lauren and Megan moved in unison, stepping shoulder-to-shoulder in front of Toby to wall him off from me. Lauren looked at me with cold authority. “You will attend the wedding tomorrow. You will stand on that stage as Toby’s witness. If you don’t clear his name, he will carry the stigma of being a homewrecker for the rest of his life, and his depression will never heal.” I held her gaze, dead-eyed. “He ‘is’ a homewrecker.” “Enough!” Lauren snapped, cutting me down. “Toby never tried to steal anything from you! He just fell in love! You’ve been targeting him like a rabid dog!” With a tight smirk, she pulled out her phone, tapped the screen, and turned it toward me. On the display was a video of me on the bedroom rug, on all fours, barking like a dog, my face painfully clear. “If you refuse to go, this goes viral.” Nausea surged up my throat. Just last week, she had crawled into bed with me, acting uncharacteristically playful and seductive, coaxing me into that humiliating act under the pretense of private intimacy—of exploring a harmless kink between husband and wife. “Don’t blame me for being ruthless,” Lauren said evenly. “You degraded Toby three years ago. Consider this balancing the ledger.” I stumbled back two steps, the room tilting violently. The woman standing before me was a complete stranger, a monster wearing my wife’s face. Beside her, my father shoved my shoulder, his eyes red and frantic. “It was three years ago, Ian! Why are you still so obsessed with revenge? Toby has a delicate soul. He isn’t cruel and vindictive like you. He can’t survive people hating him!” The ice spread through my veins, freezing me from the inside out. I had never felt so utterly, completely alone in the world. My clenched fists finally went slack. “Fine,” I whispered. “I’ll go.” … The day of the wedding, the cathedral was bathed in golden light. Lauren stood glued to my side, but her eyes never once left Toby. Toby approached us in an immaculate ivory tuxedo, his face split into a glowing, triumphant smile. “Ian. I honestly never thought you’d come to my wedding.” As he raised a hand to adjust his silk bowtie, my breath caught. Glittering on his ring finger was the ‘Celestial Sea’ diamond ring. Three years ago, Lauren had dropped to one knee, her hands shaking as she slid that very ring onto my finger, promising it would protect me and bring me peace. Later, she gently asked to put it in her safety deposit box, telling me she worried I might accidentally hurt myself with the sharp stone during one of my depressive episodes. She hadn’t been keeping it safe from me. She had been saving it for him. Lauren handed me an index card. “Read this into the microphone when you go up. Word for word.” I walked up to the altar under the heavy gaze of three hundred guests. I unfolded the card: ‘I suffered a severe psychiatric episode three years ago that caused me to fabricate lies about the bride and groom, turning myself into a destructive third party. Today, I offer my deepest apologies to them both.’ Toby watched me from across the aisle, his eyes glinting with smug victory. I took the card, ripped it in half, and let the pieces flutter to the polished marble. I looked Toby dead in the eye. “No matter how many lies you tell yourself, Toby,” I said into the microphone, “you are, and will always be, a homewrecker.” The hall erupted in gasps and frantic whispers. Toby’s eyes instantly flooded. He covered his face, let out a choked sob, and bolted off the stage, throwing himself into my father’s arms in the front row. My father glared up at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. Lauren rushed forward to comfort Toby, turning back to shoot me a look of utter contempt. “I knew it! That’s why you agreed to come—to pull this cheap stunt! You’re completely unhinged!” Toby buried his face in my father’s shoulder, his frame shaking. “Ian… I know you hate me, but please… couldn’t you have left us some dignity? Stop pushing us into a corner, please…” As he pulled out a handkerchief, a phone “accidentally” slipped from his pocket and hit the floor, screen illuminated, displaying a long thread of threatening texts sent from “me.” Lauren didn’t even bother to verify it. She picked up the phone and shoved it into my face. “Still want to deny it? Who else would do something so pathetic? Open your eyes and look at who the real homewrecker is!” She reached into her clutch and whipped out an official marriage license, slamming it against my chest. I caught it, my gaze falling on the stamped date. The day Toby and Megan had legally registered their marriage was the exact date Megan and I were originally supposed to go to city hall three years ago. The betrayal hadn’t started when I caught them. It had begun long, long before. The murmurs from the pews grew venomous. “How pathetic. Acting like a jealous ex after all these years.” “Couldn’t keep his girl, so he clung to Lauren, and now he’s making up lies.” “Disgusting. Someone throw him out.” Lauren gripped my arm with bruising force, dragging me toward Toby. “Apologize to him right now.” My body trembled with a rage so heavy it threatened to snap my bones. Toby looked up through his wet lashes, a faint, mocking smile touching the corner of his lips. Then, suddenly, a piercing yelp tore through the room. “My dog!” Toby shrieked. In the corner near the floral arch, his pure-white Samoyed ring-bearer had collapsed inside its decorative metal crate, white foam bubbling from its mouth as its body violently convulsed. Toby dropped to his knees, wailing. “Ian! You knew this was my emotional support animal! It’s the only thing keeping my depression at bay! How could you poison him?!” My father charged up the steps and delivered a stinging slap across my face. ‘Crack.’ “That dog saved his life!” my father roared, his spit flying onto my cheek. “Do you won’t be satisfied until you kill him?!” My ears rang like a blown speaker. “It wasn’t me…” Before I could finish, Lauren’s face was an abyss of cold fury. She turned to the private security guards standing by the double doors. “Put him in the crate,” she ordered coldly. “Let him atone.” Before I could process her words, two burly men pinned my arms behind my back. They dragged me across the floor, forced me onto my knees, and shoved me into the cramped metal dog cage, slamming the latch shut. I gripped the cold steel bars, screaming until my vocal cords tore. “Let me out! I didn’t touch that dog!” Every camera from the media crews hired for the wedding swiveled toward me. Blinding flashes popped against my retinas. “Live update from the wedding of the year! Scorned husband Ian locked in a dog crate after attempting to ruin the ceremony—tune in now!” I could see the live-stream comments rolling on the monitors overhead: ‘In the old days, they’d drown cheaters in a river. A dog cage is mercy.’ ‘Look at him thrashing around. He really is a rabid mutt.’ ‘Shameless freak, crashing someone else’s wedding. Deserves every bit of it.’ A wave of suffocating shame crushed my lungs. Toby walked over slowly, crouching down in front of the cage. “Good boy,” he whispered, low enough so only I could hear. “Bark for me like a dog, and maybe I’ll forgive you.” The last remnant of my sanity shattered. I spat blood directly into his face. Lauren’s jaw hardened. “Are you going to apologize to Toby or not?” I locked my jaw, refusing to give her a single word. Without blinking, she pulled out her phone, pulled up that degrading bedroom video, and tilted the screen toward me. A lightning bolt of agony struck my chest. She held my gaze with an icy threat: “You have so much pride, Ian. Do you really want millions of people watching this?” My hands slipped from the bars. The old, fragile cartilage in my knees throbbed with a sickening, grinding pain. This woman… I had given her my heart. I had believed she loved me. I closed my eyes. And then, syllable by humiliating syllable, I read Toby’s prepared apology to the cameras. Toby smiled, radiant and victorious. Outside the bars, insults and curses rained down on me. Lauren cleared her throat, a faint, uncomfortable flicker passing over her features. “To make sure you don’t cause any more scenes, you stay in there until the reception is over. Then I’ll let you out.” I curled into a ball on the cold metal floor, the pain in my shattered joints screaming. “Dad… please… let me out.” My father averted his eyes, stepping back defensively. “If I let you out, who knows what you’ll do to Toby? Just like three years ago. Today is Toby’s special day. Be quiet for once.” The moment he finished speaking, a sickening ‘snap’ echoed inside my knee joint as my leg folded beneath me. A searing, white-hot tear ripped through my tissue, and warm, sticky blood began soaking through the fabric of my trousers. “It hurts…” I choked out. “God, it hurts…” Lauren glanced down, about to say something, when Toby let out a joyful shout. “The vet says he can be saved! We have to get him to the animal hospital right now!” In an instant, Lauren, Megan, and my father surrounded the dog, hoisting it up and rushing toward the exit. Lauren’s only shred of parting mercy was telling a guard to unlock the latch before she ran after them. The whispers of “home-wrecker” and “pathetic freak” echoed around the empty hall. I pressed my hands against my shattered, bleeding knees, so broken that I couldn’t even summon tears. Dragging my ruined body, I crawled out of the hall. I took my phone, limped out of the cathedral, and dragged myself toward the bridge overlooking the dark river. My phone buzzed. A text from Lauren: ‘Once Toby’s wedding wraps up, our lives go back to normal. We’ll pretend none of this happened.’ ‘Your father agreed to stop pretending to be sick. He’s moving in with us to make up for the last three years.’ I didn’t reply. I looked at the thousands of vicious, hateful notifications flooding my screen. ‘Lauren, I don’t want your poison anymore.’ I propped the phone on the concrete railing, started a live broadcast, and pulled my bleeding, mangled body over the ledge. I let go. As the icy water roared over my ears, I heard the distant, panicked scream of a guard on the bank: “Oh God! Mr. Ian just jumped into the river!”
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