“First kiss? That was with Sophia! High school graduation night, Ryan had a few drinks, brushed his teeth three times, and then stole a kiss from her…”
Another chimed in,
“Yeah, and after that kiss, he didn’t eat for two whole days, just to preserve the feeling.”
The more they talked, the redder Sophia’s face grew.
And Ryan only fanned the flames.
“Yeah. If it weren’t for someone’s vanity and poor judgment, my bride today would’ve been her already!”
His cold laugh, dripping with insinuation, was a slap in my face.
I was nothing more than a joke to him.
Sensing my anger, my friend quickly changed the topic.
“Next question! What’s the bride’s favorite dish?”
Ryan didn’t hesitate.
“Sweet and sour pork.”
When I nodded, my friend sighed in relief.
But she didn’t notice my face had gone deathly pale.
Sweet and sour pork was Sophia’s favorite. I only said it was mine to save face.
Finally, the door opened.
Just when I thought I could escape and move on to the ceremony, the groomsmen barged in and surrounded me.
Several of them grabbed me, kissing me, groping me, some even trying to pull their pants down.
I struggled frantically, screaming:
“Ryan!”
At the sound of my cry, Ryan froze. He reached out toward me—