Page 13 of The Wedding Wrecker

My heart stopped as he stepped into the aisle, that envelope from earlier in his hand.

No, no, no.

"There’s something everybody here needs to know," he said, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent courtyard. "Michael has been cheating on Sarah."

The ground felt like it fell away beneath my feet. Gasps echoed through the crowd as James approached the altar.

"I was hired by the bride's father to investigate concerns about Mr. Harrison's fidelity," James continued, his professional tone a stark contrast to the way he'd whispered my name last night. "What I found was a pattern of infidelity spanning the last year, documented through texts, emails, and hotel receipts. Anyone who doubts it is free to come look through my evidence."

Sarah made a sound like she'd been punched. Her father moved to comfort her, but she pushed him away.

"Is it true?" she demanded, turning to Michael.

His silence was answer enough.

Chaos erupted.

Guests started talking all at once. Sarah's mother was shouting. Someone knocked over a flower arrangement I'd spent an hour perfecting.

And all I could do was stand there, watching my perfect wedding implode. All those months of planning, all those tiny details I'd obsessed over—none of it mattered now. But worst of all, my heart broke for Sarah.

One of my favorite parts of working in this business was bringing the bride’s fantasy to life. This was her dream day—the day she’d spent her childhood imagining. And now it was all going up in flames.

Sarah came storming toward me through the madness, dress hiked up and mascara streaming down her face. “You promised,” she said, voice thick with emotion.

“I—I didn’t know—” I stammered.

“You didn’t know?” she laughed. “You planned everything down to the last detail, and yet you just happened to miss the fact that this man was at my wedding? That my husband was cheating on me? Did he cheat with you, too? You’re definitely his type. I bet?—”

“Sarah,” Mr. McNamara said, cutting in with a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t her fault. I’m the one who hired the wedding wrecker. I made sure he wouldn’t stand out on the guest list, just like he instructed.”

“Why?” she said, turning to face him.

But their words drifted into background noise as I watched the wedding continue to implode.

The groom looking grim as he hurried out of the courtyard with his father berating him.

Guests looking confused and shocked as they got up and left, several with phones in hands and fingers typing furiously.

Sarah and her father walked away, leaving me standing there as my carefully built reputation seemed to crumble with each whispered comment. I could already imagine the reviews, the social media posts, the industry gossip.

I realized I now understood James’ cryptic warning from last night. Now I knew why he'd looked so guilty.

He'd known he was going to ruin my career-making moment. He kissed me, touched me, and made me feel things I’d never felt before. And then he realized I was the wedding planner, and the experience we shared wasn’t enough to stop him.

Thatwas why he’d looked so grim. He knew he was still going to go through with it. He hadn’t given a shit what it would mean to me or the bride.

I felt a decision form in my heart at that moment. I would keep planning weddings, if I could. I’d keep making magic happen. But I would never, ever let myself believe in the fairytale again—the childish idea that my work was part of what would set couples up for a happy, amazing future… That belief withered up and died.

Because some things couldn’t be fixed with the perfect flowers or the proper lighting.

Things like love were beyond my control.

I saw James standing in the middle of the chaos like a tall, dark grim reaper. He looked like the prince of fucking darkness, and for a moment, I almost walked up to thank him for showing me the truth. Instead, I turned my back on him and left, hoping I'd never see his stupid face again.

5

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