"The ceremony is about to start. Once it’s over, come to my place tonight."
I stood in the corner, my teeth grinding so hard they almost cracked.
They thought I was some idiot. Let’s see if they could handle the price for playing me.
...
I returned to the groom’s lounge at the hotel. Not long after, Ryan came in as if nothing had happened. He casually placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Buddy, you’re marrying my girl today. You better take good care of her. I’ll be dropping by your place all the time to keep an eye on you."
For three years, Ryan had always acted overly chummy around me, and since I thought he was gay, I never once put up my guard.
For three years, I cooked, cleaned, and treated him like a friend of my fiancée.
Who would’ve thought—he played the brotherly act to my face while treating me like a fool behind my back.
I glanced at the marks on his neck and suddenly smiled. "Of course," I replied.
My words made everyone in the room exchange glances and chuckle knowingly.
I wasn’t from New York—I’d only stayed because of Claire.
Everyone in that room was one of her friends, and their eyes said it all: I was the outsider.
Some even spoke in veiled tones: