Until the night I came home early and found him tangled in bed with my own sister.
I can still see the way he froze, his face twisted in guilt. And Erica?
She smirked, lips curling in triumph.
“I won, Paige,” she whispered. “Checkmate.”
A month later, the wedding I had spent over a year planning was scrapped. Erica and Stan were now official.
And me?
I vanished. Moved into hotels, worked remotely, and only returned home when I was ready to face the world again.
With a kitten.
Then one day, the invitation arrived.
A pristine white envelope, embossed with gold lettering:
“Join us as we celebrate the wedding of Erica and Stan.”
A dagger disguised as a formality.
I knew Erica too well.
This wasn’t just about love.
This was about gloating.
But she had no idea that I had my own plans for this wedding.
Before the night was over, her perfect day would be in shambles.
The Calm Before the Storm
The ceremony passed in a blur.
I stood at the back, barely listening as the officiant spoke about love and devotion.
Stan, in his sharp black tux, gazed at Erica with forced adoration.
She, in turn, radiated victory.
I sipped my champagne and thought, Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart.
By the time the reception kicked off, the grand hall buzzed with laughter and the clinking of glasses.
A massive screen behind the dance floor played a slideshow of their engagement photos.
To the unknowing eye, they looked like the happiest couple in the world.
But I knew the truth.
And it was time everyone else did too.
The Wedding Crashes
I wove through the crowd unnoticed, my sleek black dress hugging my frame.
Not dressed like a guest.
Dressed like a reckoning.
I reached the laptop connected to the projector, plugged in my flash drive.
A few clicks. A deep breath.
And then—
Showtime.
At first, no one noticed. The guests chatted, sipped champagne, and laughed.
Then—
Stan’s voice rang through the room.
“Please, don’t leave me!”
The screen flickered.
A grainy security camera recording.
Stan—sitting on the bed, eyes red with tears.
And across from him?
Me.
“Erica means nothing to me, Paige!” he sobbed. “She was a mistake! I love you! I made a huge mistake!”
Silence.
The entire room held its breath.
I turned to Erica.
Her face had drained of color.
Stan stood frozen, eyes wide, hands twitching at his sides.
But I wasn’t done.
The footage changed.
More security camera clips.
Erica and Stan sneaking into my house.
Slipping into my bedroom.
Timestamp after timestamp.
Betrayal after betrayal.
Then—the final blow.
Erica, lying in my bed, laughing.
“She’ll never know,” she whispered.
“Paige who?” Stan chuckled.
Gasps. Murmurs. A champagne glass shattered on the floor.
I glanced at my parents.
My mother looked ready to faint. My father’s jaw clenched so tight, I swore I heard his teeth grind.
And then—chaos.
Erica stumbled back, hands shaking.
“This… this isn’t real!” she stammered.
But the truth glowed on the screen for everyone to see.
“Dinner will be served now!” she blurted, desperately waving her hands. “Everyone just take your seats and enjoy!”
Stan turned to her, his face twisting with rage.
“Erica, you told me you deleted the footage!”
I smirked.
“Oh? So you knew?” I mused. “You knew the security cameras caught you?”
His face paled.
He had just given himself away.
The murmurs grew louder—judgment, disgust, betrayal flickering through the guests’ eyes.
Then—
A voice sliced through the tension.
“Paige.”
I turned.
Jack stepped forward from the crowd, his crisp white shirt visible beneath his waiter’s vest.
Jack. My best friend. The only person who had stood by me through it all.
He placed his tray of champagne glasses down.
And then—he dropped to one knee.
Gasps rippled through the room.
From her spot, Erica let out a strangled shriek.
“Are you—are you kidding me?! Paige! At my wedding?!”
Jack reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.
Opening it, he revealed the most breathtaking ring I had ever seen.
“Paige,” he said, voice strong and certain. “I’ve waited long enough. Will you marry me?”
Silence.
Then—
“Yes.”
The weight of the past year lifted from my shoulders.
I turned to Erica, watching her unravel.
She had stolen the wrong man.
Stan was nothing compared to Jack.
Jack was trustworthy, solid, certain.
Stan was just an expensive mistake.
And now?
Erica had nothing but a ruined wedding and a groom who no longer looked at her the same way.
“This is my day!” she screeched, knocking over her chair.
I tilted my head, smiling sweetly.
“Oh, honey,” I said, my voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You stole my wedding. I just stole the show.”
And with Jack’s hand in mine, I walked out of that hall—leaving my sister standing in the wreckage of her perfect day.
Game, set, match.