Confessions While the Stars Are Still Out

It was almost laughable—the wall still held our wedding portrait. There I was, smiling brilliantly, leaning against his side, my eyes brimming with nothing but happiness and hope.

Now, looking at that photo, I could only see the biggest joke of my life.

I didn’t sleep a wink that night.

When dawn broke, painting the sky a pale gray, I watched the light seep in—and made a decision.

I couldn't just let this go.

Six years of my youth. Six years of giving everything I had. In return, the two people I trusted most had betrayed me. If I went to them now, weeping and demanding answers, all I’d get were hollow apologies and crocodile tears.

That would let them off far too easily.

I wanted them to stand on the very stage I'd once dreamed of, the one I'd built for my own happiness, and tear off their masks of hypocrisy with their own hands. I wanted them to face judgment from everyone who mattered.

Calmly, I got up, washed my face, and applied my makeup, carefully covering the exhaustion etched into my skin.

At breakfast, Mom noticed my pallor. "Sophie, sweetheart, is it just pre-wedding nerves? Don’t push yourself too hard. Let me and Mary handle the details."

Beside me, Mary chimed in immediately, eagerly placing a steamed bun on my plate. "Exactly! Sis, don’t worry about a thing—I’ve got the wedding covered! You just focus on being the most beautiful bride."

She beamed with that familiar, innocent smile, perfectly playing the role of my sweet, devoted little sister.

Looking at her guileless face, a cold laugh echoed inside me. On the surface, though, I offered a gentle smile. "Alright then, I’ll leave it to you. Oh—how’s that video edit coming along? The one I asked you to trim yesterday?"

"Almost done! I’ll polish up the details today. Promise it’ll be perfect!"

"Mmm," I nodded, feigning casualness. "Mary, you still haven’t picked your bridesmaid dress, right? Yesterday I saw this wedding gown—strapless, absolutely ethereal. I think it would be perfect on you. Why don’t you just wear that? After all, my maid of honor should be the most stunning woman at the wedding, too."

Mary’s eyes lit up instantly, a flicker of surprised delight crossing her face. "Sis, I couldn’t possibly! A bridesmaid wearing a wedding dress?"

"Why not? Rules are made to be broken. You’re my only sister—I want you to. It’s settled. We’ll go to the bridal shop this afternoon." My tone left no room for argument.

A trace of barely-concealed glee—and triumph—flashed across Mary’s features.

She probably thought this was the ultimate reward for her "hard work."

All I wanted was to see her face when she stood there, draped in white silk on the spot that should have been mine, waiting for vows that would never come.

That afternoon, I took Mary to the most exclusive bridal boutique in town.

I personally selected an intricate, astronomically expensive gown for her. As I watched her twirl and preen before the mirror, listened to her sigh, "Sis, it’s so beautiful… I never want to take it off," my own heart remained a still, cold pond.

Adam showed up too. The moment he saw Mary in the wedding dress, the awe and longing in his eyes were impossible to miss.

He walked over and, with a naturalness that stung, adjusted the train of her gown. "So beautiful," he murmured.

He said it quietly, but in the hush of the boutique, I heard every syllable.

Mary lowered her head, a blush coloring her cheeks.

When Adam turned to me, his face had already smoothed into that usual, gentle smile. "Sophie, look. Doesn’t Mary look like a fairy princess in this?"

I smiled and nodded. "She does. Absolutely stunning. We’ll take this one."

Then I swiped my card for the full amount and told them, "This dress is my gift to you, Mary. On the wedding day, you’re going to take everyone’s breath away."