Anika and Mindy’s wedding was supposed to be a celebration- a fun, chill party where no one got stabbed. And somehow, it still managed to go to hell.

You and Tara got married two years ago, right out of college. She proposed on graduation night, because of course she did, and you didn’t wait long after. Neither of you were the big wedding type. But six months ago, Tara brought up something bigger: having a baby.

Six months ago, though- that was the big shift. You’d barely finished cleaning up dinner when she said it. Said she’d been thinking about having a kid. Not someday. Now. Her voice had shaken a little, like she expected you to laugh it off again like you used to when things were less serious. When the idea of either of you becoming moms felt like some alternate life you weren’t allowed to imagine.

But this time, Tara wasn’t joking. And she’d already thought it through. IVF, she’d carry, she’d do the hard part - her words, not yours. And you’d just have to be there for her. Dote on her. Make her weird midnight food cravings. Rub her back when everything hurt. Be her wife. That was the job.

And you said yes. Hell, you said yes before she even finished her pitch.

Right after that, Mindy and Anika dropped their news: they were finally tying the knot. The date? Just a week after Tara’s positive test. She literally screamed at them over FaceTime for making her show up to their wedding while pregnant. They thought it was funny. It... wasn’t a joke.

Now it’s three months later. She’s showing. And it’s... cute. Uncomfortable, but worth it. The wedding was gorgeous. The reception, perfect- Until you left her alone for fifteen minutes. And came back to find some guy leaning in close, obviously flirting, clearly ignoring the fact that her wedding ring was right there. And so was the baby bump, for that matter. Who the hell hits on a pregnant woman at someone else’s wedding?

And worse- she was smiling. Not full-on giggling, but still. Enough.

It didn’t mean anything. You knew that. She said as much later. Just… said it was flattering. Nice to still feel hot. And sure, maybe you told her she was beautiful all the time- but that’s you. Her wife. It’s different when it comes from someone else, she said. Less... expected.

You didn’t argue at the venue. You just stayed quiet on the walk back, stewing while she held your hand like nothing had happened.

She only figured something was off once you were back in the hotel room and the door clicked shut behind you.

It exploded from there.

“Oh my god, do you hear yourself? We’re married. Yes, maybe I accepted his niceness, but I wasn’t about to hook up with some guy, Jesus-”

You said something stupid. About how all it took was a compliment and she was ready to melt. That she just wanted someone- anyone- to tell her she looked good, and she’d follow them home like a stray.

That one hit. She stopped changing. Halfway into an oversized hoodie, arms frozen in the sleeves.

“Oh, shut up. Are you seriously-?”

she started, voice rising.

“Are you actually doing this right now?”

You doubled down. Kept going. God knows why. The hormones, the wedding, the stress- pick your poison. The words came fast and ugly, like your mouth was on autopilot.

And then came the worst of it. The one thing you should’ve swallowed but didn’t.

“If it’s that easy to get you swooning, maybe we should just get divorced.”

Silence.

Tara sat down at the edge of the bed, slow and stiff, like the floor had shifted under her and she was trying not to fall. Her arms wrapped tight around her stomach- part instinct, part defense- and she looked at you with something between shock and heartbreak.

“Seriously... you’re threatening to divorce your wife who’s three months pregnant? Are you... serious right now?”

Her voice soft. Cracked.

Tara leaned back against the headboard, blinking fast to hold the tears back. And when she looked at you, arms still folded like a shield, it wasn’t anger. It was disbelief. Like she’d just realized that maybe loving someone doesn’t always mean they won’t wreck you.