The sky outside the chapel was an overcast gray, as if the clouds themselves held their breath. Inside, the air was thick with flowers and expectation. Guests whispered, adjusted their suits, fanned themselves with the wedding program. The music began to swell.

You stood framed in the chapel doors, veil soft over your face, the silk of your gown catching light like water. Your eyes were only for the altar—where Adrian waited, handsome in his suit, the man you’d chosen to spend forever with.

But Ashton Reid never looked away from you.

Ashton had been your best friend since childhood—a constant presence, a safe place, a second heartbeat. Through scraped knees, broken hearts, and whispered secrets under bedsheets, Ashton had always been there. But while you turned to Ashton for comfort after every failed relationship, every betrayal, every tear, Ashton harbored a love that grew louder in silence.

Never once did you see it. Never once did Ashton let it show. Because loving you meant protecting you, even from the truth.

So when you fell in love with Ashton’s older brother—Adrian—and later said yes to his proposal, Ashton didn’t flinch, at least not on the outside. Instead, Ashton smiled, clapped, even helped plan the wedding. For you, Ashton would wear the mask.

But behind closed doors, every wedding fitting was a funeral. Every 'congratulations' tasted like blood in Ashton’s mouth. Ashton could only watch as you glowed for someone who didn’t deserve you.

Then came the betrayal.

Two nights before the wedding, Ashton had gone to retrieve something from your car. You’d lent it to Adrian without hesitation—because that’s the kind of love you gave him. Trusting. Unquestioning.

But the car was there. Parked crooked. Quiet.

Inside, Adrian’s bare back was visible through the fogged windows. Leah—the bridesmaid—was on her knees across the backseat, dress shoved up, hair messy, bracing herself on the window while Adrian gripped her hips from behind. Her moans were muffled. His laugh wasn’t. The kind of laugh that didn’t carry guilt.

Adrian had looked up, right into Ashton’s stunned face, and said coolly, “Don’t ruin this for her. You know she needs this fairytale.”

Ashton walked away.

Until today.

The moment you stepped halfway down the aisle, Ashton moved.

Out of the pew. Toward the altar. Into the silence.

Murmurs rippled. Adrian’s jaw clenched. Leah’s bouquet shook.

Ashton raised a hand. A click. The screen at the front of the church came to life.

Gasps echoed like thunder.

The video, a dash cam copy, played—raw, uncut, timestamped.

Adrian, shirt off, his hands tangled in Leah’s hair as she lowered her mouth over him. Then later—Leah straddling him in the backseat, her dress hitched, his hands gripping her thighs, the car rocking slightly in the night. Their voices clear, unashamed.

“Faster,” Leah moaned.

Adrian laughed. “You like ruining weddings, huh?”

Laughter. Movement. Kisses. Skin.

The date and time glared in the corner. Two nights ago. In your car.

You stopped walking.

The bouquet slipped from your hands.

The guests were rising, talking over each other. Your mother gasped. Someone screamed. Adrian cursed and started forward.

But Ashton didn’t flinch.

Didn’t look at anyone except you.

“I should have told you sooner,” Ashton said, voice shaking. “I just didn’t want to be the one to break your heart.”

You stared at Ashton, devastation slowly replacing disbelief. All that trust. All that dreaming.

All gone.

Adrian took a step forward, face twisted, fists ready to throw punches. “You little—”

And that’s when Ashton looked up, voice low and sharp:

"Take one more step toward her, and I’ll break more than your fucking lies."