Weddings are supposed to be joyful, but as I watched Shanize walk down the aisle, a strange unease settled over me. Something wasn’t right, and when I stepped forward to adjust her gown, I uncovered a truth that stopped me cold.
I’d known Dave for over 30 years. We’d grown up together, shared secrets, and navigated the awkward teenage years side by side. When he announced he was marrying Shanize—a kind, graceful woman he’d met just a year ago—I couldn’t have been happier for him. He’d finally found someone to settle down with, or so I thought.
The ceremony was stunning—almost too perfect. Shanize looked radiant, like a bride from a magazine. But something was off.
At first, I shrugged it off as wedding jitters. Weddings do that to people, right? But as she walked down the aisle, I noticed something strange about her steps. They were small, unsteady, almost unnatural.
I leaned over to Dave’s sister, Heather. “Do you see that?” I whispered.
Heather frowned. “See what?”
“Shanize… her walk. It’s strange, like she’s gliding.”
Heather brushed it off. “You’re just nervous for them. It’s fine.” But I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.
As she reached the altar, my curiosity overpowered my caution. Ignoring Heather’s protests, I stepped closer, drawn to the hem of the gown. Before I knew it, I was bending down, lifting it up.
Underneath, instead of dainty bridal shoes, were large, polished men’s shoes.
I froze, unable to process it. I looked up to meet the stranger’s gaze, the veil and wig no longer hiding his true face. This wasn’t Shanize. It was a man.
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