Page 2 of My Ex-Fiance's Best Men

My mother shaming Matthew.

My sister cracking jokes to lift my mood.

Tears prick my eyes, then spill freely.

The pain, the humiliation—it’s too much.

I keep reading the messages, the regrets that the event will not happen, while my mother and sister somehow manage to make everything worse.

No word from Matthew’s groomsmen, though I’m not sure what I was expecting. They’re great guys, and they were always good to me, but they’re his friends.

Their silence says enough.

I'm staring at my phone, debating whether to check social. A catastrophically stupid idea that I somehow can’t talk myself out of.

Then I hear footsteps thundering down the hallway.

“PHOEBE, you need to see this RIGHT NOW!”

Penny bursts into the living room, coffee in one hand, phone in the other.

For a second, I try to figure out where she came from. She’s still wearing the shirt and jeans she had on last night when she came over with, the now-empty takeout containers and crumpled tissues littering the floor.

“You’re here?”I ask.

“Where the hell else would I be?” she shoots back, brows lifting. “I’m not leaving you alone to spiral. Someone has to keep an eye on you before you do something insane—like texting your ex or announcing you’re joining a convent.”

“How thoughtful,” I mutter.

“I know. I’m a goddamn saint.”

She thrusts her phone at me. “Now brace yourself for this…”

She sits next to me on the sofa, setting her phone on the table where we can both view a video gone viral on TikTok, judging by the number of likes blowing up in the bottom right corner of the screen.

“What the…?” is all I can manage as the frame fills with August, Dominic, and Theo—Matthew’s groomsmen. Shirts tailored within an inch of their lives, jaw lines that could cut glass.

Eyes sharper than my mother’s commentary on my life choices.

Dominic speaks first.

“Hey, guys. You’re probably aware the wedding of Matthew Hearst and Phoebe Baldwin was canceled last night.”

“We didn’t find out until this morning while we were literally getting dressed for it,” August adds, gesturing to their shirts. “We’re in shock.”

Theo Forbes, their best friend and business partner, chimes in. “And disgusted. We didn’t expect this kind of behavior from our close friend Matthew, the groom.”

“Wait, what?” I gasp.

Penny hits the pause button. The content of this video isn’t going where I thought it would. My heart starts beating a million miles a minute.

“Give it a second,” Penny says, then taps play again.

The men stand in unison, suits stretching over thick biceps and powerful chests. August buttons his jacket with lazy precision, Dominic rolls his shoulders like he’s warming up for a fight, and Theo tugs his cuffs into place, veins flexing along his forearms. They look even bigger upright—three living statues carved out of sin and money, made for the camera and lit like Zeus personally hired the lighting crew.

“Phoebe deserves better,” Dominic says.

My soul leaves my body.