The night before my wedding, our friends gathered at the old house for a bachelorette party. Someone suggested we play Werewolf, a game of hidden identities, accusations, and betrayal. I glanced at my card. Seer. The game had barely begun when Sophie Whitaker, my fiancé’s childhood sweetheart, claimed the Seer role and pointed straight at me. “I checked the bride last night. She’s a werewolf.” I was just about to defend myself when my fiancé, Logan Hayes, suddenly revealed his own identity. “The Witch,” he announced. He turned to me with a tender smile. “The werewolves attacked Emily last night, but I used my antidote to save her.” Our friends immediately erupted into cheers, praising Logan as the ultimate devoted fiancé, a man who would sacrifice even his chances of winning to protect the woman he loved. Except I was still eliminated. Because the Guardian had protected me while Logan used his antidote on me, the two actions canceled each other out. I was out of the game. With a helpless sigh, I folded my cards, picked up a platter of fruit, and headed to the kitchen to wash it. That was when I overheard Logan talking to his best friend, Jake Bennett. “Man, Logan, you really thought of everything,” Jake said, laughing. “You arranged the whole thing in advance. Whoever drew Guardian duty tonight was supposed to protect the bride, while you played the Witch and saved her. The two moves cancel each other out, and she gets knocked out immediately.” “Exactly,” Logan replied with a chuckle. “I get to look like the devoted fiancé who’d risk anything to protect his girl, and she gets eliminated before she can ruin the fun. Everybody wins.” My hands froze around the fruit platter. A moment later, Sophie slipped into the kitchen and carried away the cantaloupe I’d just finished cutting. I stood there, watching them devour the fruit without leaving me a single piece. All that remained was a pile of discarded rinds. Suddenly, the whole thing felt so pointless. We’d been together for three years. At every dinner party, Logan and his friends would talk and laugh for hours while I sat beside them, unable to find a way into their conversations. When we went to escape rooms, Logan and Jake always flanked Sophie, protecting her from every imagined danger. Somehow, I was always the one left trailing behind. Fine. If there was no place for me in their world, I could stop trying to squeeze myself into it. I could just leave. … Outside the kitchen, their laughter continued without restraint. Jake’s voice carried through the doorway, dripping with amusement. “What if your girl figures it out?” Logan laughed softly. “Emily’s easy to handle. Even if she does find out, we’ll be married tomorrow. We’ll be family. She’s not going to call off a wedding over a stupid game, is she?” I tossed the platter into the trash and walked out of the kitchen. Sophie happened to be passing by. She glanced at the garbage can, feigning surprise. “Emily, why’d you throw out all that fruit? What a waste.” The others heard her and poked their heads out of the kitchen. Jake let out a mocking whistle. “What’s this? The bride can’t take losing?” Logan didn’t even look up. He was busy shuffling the cards. “Let her sulk. She’s stubborn. She’ll get over it in a minute.” I didn’t argue. My throat had tightened so much that speaking felt impossible. I walked straight out of the old house and into the rainy night. Not one person tried to stop me. Rain streamed down my cheeks, cold enough that I could barely tell where the water ended and my tears began. My phone rang. Logan. For one foolish second, I thought he might ask where I’d gone. Maybe he’d noticed I was missing. Maybe, for once, he’d realized that something was wrong. Instead, I got the same accusations I’d heard a hundred times before. “What the hell are you doing, leaving everyone like that?” “Do you have any idea how far Jake came to be here tonight? He flew back just for this!” I could hear Sophie giggling in the background, her voice sweet and playful. My stomach twisted. “Everyone was having a good time, Emily. Could you not ruin the mood for once?” I hung up. Messages immediately began flooding our group chat. There were ten of us in the group. Sophie posted a photograph of nine forks arranged neatly in freshly cut cantaloupe. Her caption made my stomach turn. Funny how much more fun everyone has when there’s no one around trying to control everything. Then Jake uploaded a short video. He stood in the middle of the room, raising his glass and shouting, “Our bride doesn’t know how to take a joke and has to storm off! Logan, you’re buying the next round!” The camera swung toward Logan. He threw back his drink, grinning as the others cheered. A private message from him arrived seconds later. Get back in the group chat and send everyone a red envelope as an apology. The wedding is tomorrow. If you let things get ugly now, you’re the one who’s going to look bad. I was shivering so hard that my hands could barely hold the phone. I didn’t reply. Instead, I called a cab and went back to our new home. The moment I opened the door, I stopped cold. The living room was a disaster. The red cardboard box I’d been using to store my wedding decorations had been kicked over. Scattered across the floor were the 999 paper roses I’d spent half a month making by hand, staying up late night after night until my fingers ached. Every single one was covered in shoe prints. The handwritten wedding vows I’d painstakingly composed after reading through countless poetry collections had been crumpled into a ball. This wasn’t a home. It was a place where everything I’d put my heart into could be trampled underfoot without a second thought. My phone chimed with a new email. It was an invitation from an island’s public library, offering me a yearlong residency as a visiting editor. I stared at the message. A moment later, Logan sent me a long voice note. “I had Sophie make a few adjustments to your wedding dress. She has a much better eye than you do. You’ll look absolutely stunning tomorrow.” I’d designed that dress myself. I’d spent two months sketching it, visiting more than a dozen factories to find the right fabric, and agonizing over every detail until it was exactly what I’d imagined. I’d poured two months of my life into that dress. And now I couldn’t even make decisions about my own wedding gown? I looked back at the library’s invitation. I’d already drafted a polite refusal, explaining that I wouldn’t be able to accept the position. I deleted every word. Then I typed a new reply. Thank you for the offer. I’m honored by your confidence in me. I’d be delighted to accept. At dawn, I arrived at the hotel bridal suite. The moment I opened the door, blood rushed to my head. Sophie was standing in front of the full-length mirror, twirling in a white wedding gown. My wedding gown. The dress I’d been the only person supposed to wear that day. Logan sat on the sofa with several members of the wedding party, staring at her in open admiration. Jake was practically applauding. “Sophie, you look incredible in that dress!” he exclaimed. “You’re going to outshine every woman in this room.” At the sound of the door, Sophie turned. She covered her mouth with one hand, wearing an expression of exaggerated innocence. “Emily, I’m so sorry! I was checking your dress for you yesterday and noticed a little stain on the hem.” “I thought I’d be helpful and wash it by hand. I had no idea the fabric would shrink.” She glanced down at the gown she was wearing. “But when I tried it on just now, it fit me perfectly.” Then she pointed toward a hanger holding a red dress. “Why don’t I wear this one as your bridesmaid? You can borrow my red dress instead. Isn’t the color festive?” I followed her gesture. The dress was hideous. Cheap lace edged the sleeves, plastic sequins clung to the fabric, and the whole thing looked like something dragged out of a bargain bin. I turned to Logan. “What exactly is going on here?” He came over and pulled me into a corner, away from the others. “It’s just a dress, Emily. Sophie was trying to help. She made a mistake.” “There’s no time to borrow another one. You’re still the bride today. Whatever you wear, you’re going to be Mrs. Hayes.” He lowered his voice. “Our relatives and friends are already here. Don’t make a scene and embarrass us.” I felt something inside me grow colder, inch by inch, until there was nothing left to warm. Swallowing the nausea rising in my throat, I changed into the red dress. Later, we gathered on the hotel lawn for photographs. Sophie stood beside Logan in my beautiful white gown. Anyone who didn’t know better would have assumed they were the couple getting married. Jake took one look at my red dress and wrinkled his nose. Then he shoved his phone into my hand. “Emily, that dress is way too flashy. It doesn’t fit the innocent, wholesome vibe of the original group.” He gestured toward the others. “Why don’t you take the pictures today? Make sure Sophie and Logan look good together.” Logan straightened his tie and jacket, then smiled at me as though he were doing me a favor. “Be a good girl and get some nice shots of everyone. We can take more pictures during the reception.” I raised the phone and pressed the shutter over and over. I photographed their smiles, their laughter, the easy way Sophie leaned toward Logan and the way his hand settled at her waist. The more I looked at them, the uglier they seemed. When the group photos were finally finished, the wedding emcee came hurrying over with a tablet. “Mr. Hayes, the final version of the reception video is ready for your approval. You and the bride should take a look.” The screen lit up. The video was supposed to be a sweet montage of Logan and me over the past three years. Instead, the first clip showed Jake and the others gathered around a table at one of their private dinners. Sophie appeared on-screen, wearing a pink diamond necklace. I recognized it immediately. Six months earlier, I’d fallen in love with that necklace in a jewelry store. Logan had told me it was a discontinued design and that every last one had sold out. Apparently, he’d found one after all. And Jake, in what was clearly meant to be a final joke at my expense, had deliberately left the original audio intact. His voice boomed through the ballroom. “Logan, you gave your childhood sweetheart a discontinued diamond necklace? What’s your wife supposed to get?” On-screen, Logan barely looked up from his drink. “Marriage is about building a life together. You can’t spend a fortune on your wife every time she wants something.” The ballroom fell silent. The emcee nearly dropped the tablet. I stood frozen, my hands and feet turning ice-cold as I stared at the screen. “Logan,” I said, my voice trembling. “Is this what you meant when you told me you couldn’t find it?” He snatched the tablet from the emcee and hurriedly closed the video. “That was six months ago! We’d all been drinking. It was a stupid joke.” “Sophie had just gone through a breakup. I bought her something nice to cheer her up. That’s all.” He glanced around the ballroom, then turned back to me with a strained smile. “Today is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives. Are you really going to ruin it over something so trivial?” I looked at Sophie in my wedding gown. Then I looked at the man who believed his wife could always be placated with a few empty words. And suddenly, I couldn’t even feel angry anymore. I took out my phone and opened my messages with Graham Reed, the director of the island library program. I began typing. Graham, can we sign the contract today? Before I could hit send, my phone rang. It was Graham. I stepped away from the crowd and answered. “Emily, are you absolutely certain you want to give up the island residency?” I froze. “I haven’t given it up. I replied to your email last night.” There was a pause. “That’s strange. Half an hour ago, I received a refusal from your email account. It said you’d decided to stay home and start a family.” My head snapped toward Logan. He was standing a short distance away, laughing with Jake as if nothing in the world could possibly touch him. I’d left my laptop bag unattended while changing into the red dress. He’d gone through my things. He’d answered an email in my name and tried to throw away an opportunity I’d spent years working toward. I forced my voice to steady. “Graham, I didn’t send that message. Please, I’m asking you to hold the position for me.” When I hung up, I walked straight toward Logan. “Did you access my email?” He smiled indulgently and reached over to smooth my hair. “Once we’re married, you should be home taking care of your in-laws. What’s the point of living apart?” “And seriously, how much could that little library possibly pay you?” My hands curled into fists. My fingernails dug deep into my palms. At that moment, the bridal suite door swung open. Abby Collins, the only college friend I’d invited to the wedding, rushed inside, flushed and breathless, carrying the wedding gift she’d brought for me. She’d barely stepped through the doorway when Jake appeared out of nowhere with two glasses of champagne. He deliberately collided with her. Abby stumbled and crashed to the floor. Pale yellow champagne splashed across her clothes. “Oh, man!” Jake exclaimed, laughing. “How does the bride’s friend manage to trip over her own feet? Is this the first challenge in the wedding door games?” I was shaking with fury. I rushed over and helped Abby sit up. “Jake, apologize to her. Right now.” Logan stepped between us and yanked me backward. His face darkened. “It’s our wedding day. Don’t start a fight.” “Jake’s always been like this. He jokes around. Tell your friend to be a little more gracious. I don’t want people thinking I married someone petty and small-minded.” Abby’s eyes filled with tears. She caught my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Emily, it’s okay. Please. Today’s your wedding day.” I turned toward her, my heart breaking at the sight of her soaked clothes, but before I could say anything, Sophie approached us. She looked positively delighted with herself. “Emily, I’ve got a brilliant idea.” “Remember how you got eliminated in Werewolf last night? Why don’t you pretend to trip and play dead during the ceremony?” “Then Logan can save you with a real diamond ring. It’ll be such a hilarious twist. Everyone will love it.” I looked at Logan. To my disbelief, he seemed genuinely excited by the suggestion. “That’s perfect,” he said. “It ties in with how I protected you last night, and the guys get to have some fun, too.” He smiled at me expectantly. “Emily, just play along, okay? The important thing is that everyone has a good time on our wedding day.” Was that what happiness meant to him? Being humiliated in front of two hundred people so his friends could laugh? The ceremony was twenty minutes away. My phone vibrated in my pocket. A message from Graham appeared on the screen. I had a feeling that refusal wasn’t really yours. I’ve made an exception and held the position until noon. Your one o’clock boat ticket is booked. You can leave whenever you’re ready. I stared at myself in the mirror. The cheap red dress. The carefully arranged hair. The face of a woman who had spent three years trying to earn a place in a world that had never wanted her. I looked like a clown. And in that moment, the last thread holding my love for Logan together snapped. I slowly unclenched my fists and smoothed my hair. “All right,” I said with a smile. “I’ll play along.” Logan patted my shoulder, satisfied. Then he turned and went off with his friends to prepare for the ceremony. I watched him walk away. Whatever warmth remained in my eyes disappeared. A little later, the ballroom doors swung open. The emcee stood onstage, beaming into the microphone as he announced the bride’s grand entrance. The giant screen suddenly flickered to life. But instead of the romantic wedding photographs everyone had been expecting, an embarrassing prank video filled the screen. Jake had switched the files without permission. The montage showed me at my most vulnerable over the past three years: unwashed hair and a bare face, disastrous attempts at cooking, angry red blisters from burning myself in the kitchen, and photographs of my face swollen from a seafood allergy. More than two hundred relatives and guests began whispering and pointing. Heat flooded my face. I wanted the floor to open beneath me. I looked toward Logan at the far end of the aisle. He wasn’t stopping them. He was laughing with the groomsmen, pointing at the screen and doubling over with amusement. To him, this was nothing more than a hilarious little surprise to liven up the reception. I forced myself to keep walking beneath the weight of everyone’s stares. I’d made it halfway down the aisle when Jake and Sophie suddenly rushed forward and blocked my path. Sophie was still wearing my white wedding gown. She grabbed a microphone and shouted, “The Seer has checked the bride! She’s a werewolf! She has to be eliminated!” The groomsmen erupted into cheers, closing ranks around me until I could barely move. They sprayed colored party snow and cheap streamers all over my face and body. The ballroom dissolved into chaos. I coughed violently, choking on the powder, unable even to open my eyes. In the confusion, Jake brought his foot down hard on the hem of my too-long dress. I lost my balance. I pitched forward and hit the floor with a sickening thud. Pain shot through my ankle. My palms scraped against the hard surface, tearing the skin open. Blood welled instantly, and a fierce, burning pain spread through my hands. The entire ballroom was laughing. Nobody seemed to notice that I’d been hurt. I lifted my head and looked toward Logan, who stood only a few steps away. He began walking toward me slowly. A spotlight followed him, illuminating his every movement. He had seen the blood on my palms. He had seen the pain twisting my face. Yet all he did was frown slightly. He didn’t immediately reach down to help me. He didn’t tell his friends to stop. Instead, he dropped to one knee in front of me and raised the pink diamond ring. “I’m the Witch,” he announced theatrically. “Even if she’s a werewolf, I’ll still save her!” He looked at me with eager expectation, as though he were waiting for me to say the one word that would make this marriage official. Yes. I stared at the hand he held out to me. Then I looked down at my own palm, still bleeding onto the floor. And every last trace of the future I’d imagined with him disappeared. My ankle screamed with pain as I gritted my teeth and pushed myself upright. I snatched the microphone from the emcee. My voice rang out across the ballroom, cold and clear. “There’s no need to save me.” “I’m done playing your game.” “The wedding is off.” Logan’s smile froze. For the first time that morning, the color drained from his face.
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