Divorce After Wedding Fiasco

Faced with the bride's continuous demands, Devin Berry looked uneasily between her and me, clearly stuck in a tough spot. The window of the lead limousine rolled down, and Raven Gilbert leaned out with a concerned look. "Devin, why aren’t you getting in the car? It’s almost time."

"My fiancée’s having a bit of a meltdown," Devin replied awkwardly. "I’ll sort it out quickly."

The bride gritted her teeth in frustration. "I’m not going through with this wedding!"

Just as she was about to kick off her pumps and bolt, panic flashed across Devin's face. "Listen, today is for both couples to get married. Clark and Raven were each other’s first loves and missed out after eight years apart. As a longtime friend, I’ve watched their rocky romance and wanted to help them out."

The bride listened, incredulous, while Devin lowered his voice. "Clark wants to give Raven the wedding she never had. Their love story is legendary and moving, and I can't sum it up in a few words. Please, just bear with us and rise above, okay?"

Seeing the bride’s expression remain tense, Devin looked at me with resignation. "Winnie is still here, you know. Imagine how she’d feel seeing you upset."

"There are so many guests waiting. Let’s keep our composure, alright?"

The bride cast a pitying glance at me, eventually relenting and getting into the second limousine. I quietly got into the last car, following along to the outdoor wedding venue.

The prick of a needle hurts when it first punctures the skin, but once you accept the pain, you stop noticing it.

Since today was Clark Davis’s wedding, how could I, his wife, not be present?

By the time our vehicle arrived at the venue, chaos had already erupted.

"Who arranged for the balloons and streamers? I specifically said I didn’t want them!" the bride cried, looking disheveled despite her meticulous preparation. "I got up at five this morning to do my makeup. How am I supposed to go on stage like this?"

Devin waved it off. "Raven said the ceremony needed a splash of grandeur. If your makeup’s smudged, just touch it up."

Raven, looking perfectly composed, stood apart. "Want me to help you fix your makeup?"

"No!" the bride snapped, storming into the dressing room and slamming the door behind her.

With that bit of drama over, I watched silently as Clark knelt and helped Raven swap her shoes for the ballet flats he’d bought her.

"The grass is uneven here," Clark said gently. "Flats will be safer."

I glanced down at my own high heels, feeling a sudden ache in my feet that seemed to reach my eyes, making them sting.