On my wedding day, perfection shattered with a single question: “Does anyone object?” Three groomsmen—Jake, Nate, and James—stepped forward. I laughed, thinking it was a joke. It wasn’t. They urged me to look at Ellie’s hand.
Beneath where her ring should’ve been was a fresh tattoo: “T.J.” Not my initials. Then they pointed to Tyler—my best man. On his finger: “E.B.” Ellie’s initials.
The truth spilled out. Ellie and Tyler had been lovers long before me, their feelings never truly gone. My friends had only recently discovered the secret and revealed it when it mattered most.
I felt no need for a scene. I left the ring on the altar and walked away—from betrayal, heartbreak, and the illusion of love.
