He held up the report. Positive results glared back at me in black and white.
Cold sweat prickled down my spine.
He didn't know. That report wasn't mine.
It was his.
——
I'd prepared a best man speech for Cedric Simmons.
Instead, his out-of-nowhere accusation made me the center of attention—and not in a good way.
I locked eyes with him, silently pleading.
"Cedric, you've got this wrong. I've never been tested for syphilis."
"How could I be wrong?" His voice carried across the room, loud enough for every guest to hear. "You told me yourself—syphilis and HIV. I went with you to the clinic! You think I'd forget something like that?"
"HIV too?!"
A guest shot to his feet, knocking over his wine glass. Red spread across the white tablecloth like a stain.
"How dare you invite us here! What if the groom touched the food? The drinks?"
"Exactly!" Another voice joined in. "You lured us here without telling us? What kind of people are you?"
Panic clawed at my chest. I turned to Kate, standing beside me in her white gown.
She was supposed to defend me. She was my wife.
But her gaze had drifted past me entirely—fixed on Cedric Simmons.