hite lace, champagne, and smiling faces, a perfect picture of happiness. My happiness. But the words I had

e pillar for support. I watched him through the glass doors. Mark was still on the phone, his back to me. He laughed, a low, intima

ppearance. His sudden, overwhelming generosity. It wasn't kindness. It was a paymen

through the smiling, oblivious guests. Someone congratulated me, and I think I smiled back, a grotesque

my chest tight with a pain so intense it felt physical. The betrayal was absolute, a gaping wound that ripped through my entire be

, a naive fool in a white dress. How could I have been so blind? I had been so despe

elchair. I thought about my parents, their lives cut short. And it was all for this

ard knot in my stomach and grew until it filled my entire body. I would not let h

overheard words. Who would believe me? I was the poor, grateful orphan who had married the wealthy,

Are you in there? Everyone's waiting for the cake." It was Mar

my face, trying to erase the horror from my expression. I looked at myself in t

sed, her eyes raking over me with disdain. "What were you doi

nt," I said, my voice

moment is over. Come on.

ny of deceit. I saw Mark standing by the towering wedding cake, a perfect smile on his face. He looked at me, his eyes f

, his breath warm against my

my own. "I'm fine," I said, my voice

ezing my hand. "But we have the re

mine, as we cut the first slice of the cake. The crowd cheered. The flash of a camera went o

cold, possessive. I saw it now. It wasn't love in his eyes. It w

for the cameras. I danced the first dance. I played my part. But undernea

e had no idea what he had just unleashed. The wedding w