Framed at My Own Wedding, She Married My Brother

Every head at the table turned toward her, and they all leaned in to listen.

"There's no way it was just that."

"Every time Duane was out of the house, well, you can imagine..."

"No way!"

"You two are unbelievable!"

"I'd love to ask Sid what he's been taking to have that kind of stamina!"

"No wonder Freda's practically glowing. Poor Duane, footing the bill for all of it, and now he's about to play daddy to another man's kid."

Freda's friends were all sneering at me, and not one of them thought there was anything shameless about what she and Sid had done.

Birds of a feather, exactly. Like draws to like.

She didn't have to spell out the whole history with Sid. I already knew.

They'd done it in my own bridal suite and left their traces everywhere.

In front of everyone, Freda would put on her guilty, remorseful little act toward me, but behind the scenes she'd already worn herself out with Sid and dropped straight into sleep, with no intention whatsoever of apologizing or making anything right.

A dull ache rolled through my chest in waves, enough that I nearly came apart on the spot.

In the end I walked out on heavy feet, without ripping into her to her face.

Outside the bar, the wind cut right through me.

That was when my partner called.

"You jerk, Duane. Does Freda understand you the way I do? Is she prettier than me?"

"Is she richer than me? Boo-hoo, you've got no heart. GC made the Fortune 500, and you dropped all of us to run home and marry her."

Ellie had to be drunk, because she was always quiet and reserved, cool and composed.

She'd never let herself look like this unless she were truly hurting.

"Ellie, wait for me!"

"I'll cut ties with Freda as fast as I can, sort out the family business, then come back for you."

Just like that, the drunk woman on the line sobered up.

After I hung up, I walked along the roadside for a while.

A bright red Ferrari tore past me.

That was Sid's car. Looked like he was on his way to Freda.

I didn't care about her anymore. Whatever the two of them did from here on wouldn't stir a thing in me.

The moment I got home, my mother was waiting in the living room.

"Duane, where were you all off to so late?"

I looked coldly at that kind, gentle face of hers, and remembering what Freda had said in that private room, whatever last scrap of feeling I had for her turned to ash.

I was the one she gave birth to, yet she always favored Sid a little more.

The year we were poorest, I wore old clothes patched over and over while Sid got new ones.

He got a cake on his birthday. I got two eggs.

I never imagined that even now, grown, she'd still take Sid's side and join the outsiders in deceiving me.

Now that I knew all of it, there was no way I could keep my temper with her.

"Drink up!"

"I thought Freda was home, so I made chicken soup. Since she's not here, you have it in her place."

I smashed the bowl of chicken soup to pieces.

My mother stared at me, stunned, unable to understand why I was so furious.

"What's gotten into you? Is this still about last time—"

"Is it because you know she's carrying Sid's child? Is that why you were kind enough to bring chicken soup over to help her recover?"

I cut her off before she could finish.

My mother went pale with alarm, staring at me like she couldn't believe it.

"How did you find out?"

I didn't say a word. I bore down on her step by step, all that rage rolling off me.

"I could never figure out your favoritism as a kid. I was the one you gave birth to, yet you always loved the son you shared no blood with. Later I found out why."

"It turns out Sid is the son of your first love. Love the man, love his boy too."