Page 7 of Third Time Lucky

‘Dear God!’ Dad bolsters, his gaze still on Asher’s phone as his cheeks turn pink, obviously sickened by what he’s seeing and hearing.

He jabs at the screen to stop the video, dropping the phone onto the floor while it plays on repeat somewhere under one of the chairs – loudly.

When he looks our way, the rage in his eyes most likely matches my own. Maybe someone is dying today.

Brandon holds a hand out toward my father. ‘I did not say that.’

The tears burning the back of my eyes turn to rage. ‘Did you do it?’ I snap.

‘No!’ he insists.

‘It looks like ya did.’

He shakes his head repeatedly.

‘Brandon. You’re a grown-ass man. Tell the truth. Is that you?’ I ask, demanding an answer, even though I know it’s him. But, considering what I feel right now, the asshole deserves to have to admit it to everyone in the room.

He presses his lips into a flat line, glancing back at his best man.

‘Answer her question,’ my dad says firmly stepping up behind me.

Brandon’s face is pained, and honestly, he looks like he’d like to run; instead, he exhales heavily and answers calmly as if he can talk himself out of this. ‘I was really drunk last night?—’

My chest ignites in a blaze of pain, each breath scorching my lungs like fire. My mind screams in agony as I struggle to hold on to any semblance of sanity, but it slips through my fingers like sand. My grip on reality falters as I struggle to breathe, suffocating under the weight of his deceit.

‘Are you saying this is Tequila’s fault?!’

‘Yes!’ he insists like it’s a valid excuse.

‘Ha!’ I laugh manically. Jeesh. My emotions are all over the place. ‘Were ya so drunk you don’t remember saying yes to a blowjob by another woman the night before your wedding?’

He nearly chokes on the lie he’s holding back.

‘Blowjob?’ He laughs uncomfortably, shaking his head. ‘That’s not what that was.’

‘That’s what it looks like,’ I say. ‘But please do explain if that’s not what I just witnessed.’ I cross my arms over my chest, awaiting his story.

‘I— I?—’

He’s speechless – perfect.

Along with me, the entire room seems to pulse with shock, the air thick as if charged with electricity, every silent breath a struggle against the storm within.

The night before our wedding, ugh. No way was this the first time either, that much is obvious. He thought he’d get away with this probably because he’s done it a dozen times before. Jesus. My heart plummets to the ground, shattering into a million pieces, as I realize the depth of his betrayal.

‘You cheating piece of fucking garbage.’

Each syllable that escapes my lips is a razor-sharp blade, dripping with venom straight from my wounded heart to his.

But it’s not just my words that are enraged – my entire being is consumed by fury.

And in a moment of uncontrollable rage, my clenched fist connects with his nose, the satisfying crunch echoing through the room.

‘Oh!’ the whole room groans audibly.

‘Ouch,’ I say, rubbing my fist as he hits the floor with a thud.

‘Good Lord,’ Madi says, rushing to my side. ‘You just laid him out. Are you OK?’

His best man kneels to Brandon, taking his pulse in the wrong spot. ‘I think he’s dying!’

‘God-fucking-speed then, ya cheating asshole,’ I snap, grabbing the skirt of my dress and marching down the few steps back to the aisle, Madi hot on my heels like the amazing maid of honor she’s been.

Despite the fact that half this room is her family, too, she’s loyal to me because that’s what best friends do when their family are cheating assholes.

‘I’m not dying,’ Brandon groans, stopping me in my tracks.

I turn to see if he has an explanation. Our eyes meet for a second – and my heart does nothing. No spin. No skipped beats. Just ‘Ave Maria’ playing as it crawls into a shallow grave.

‘That was me,’ Brandon says finally, admitting it. ‘But at least I never hit you,’ he says, reaching up and touching his nose, realizing he’s bleeding and nearly passing out at the sight of it. His best friend reaches down to help.

‘At least you never hit me?! Keep talking and I’ll hit you again. And don’t help him!’ I command. ‘Do the world a favor and let the sleaze-bag bleed out.’

The minister shakes his head and does a quick hail Mary, probably attempting to absolve himself from this entire day. God, I wish I could do the same.

‘I am going to kill him,’ my father says, now marching toward Brandon. Each shirt sleeve is uncuffed at the wrist and shoved to his elbows, revealing his clenched fists.

I take a few steps back as Dad reaches down, grabbing Brandon by his jacket lapels and jerking him from the floor.

‘What did I tell you the day you proposed, you stupid son-of-a?—’

Before he can publicly murder the man or finish his sentence, the family he’s referring to jumps to Brandon’s rescue, and I watch as the whole room combusts to defend their loved ones, all as Here Comes the Bride’s photographers snap pictures.

That’s my cue.

With a determined glint in my eye, I stride toward the back doors like nothing is wrong, refusing to let my soul die over this nonsense – at least right now. I delicately wipe tears from my face, while Madi and I retreat. As we get to the back doors, I meet Asher’s gaze one last time.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he mouths, lifting his palms into the air before allowing his friend to pull him from the hall entirely out of my gaze.

Me too, Ash. Me-freaking-too.

‘Come on, darling,’ Mitzi says from behind, taking my hand and leading us toward the elevators.

‘How could he do this?’ I ask the two of them, shards of my shattered pride settling heavily in my gut.

‘I don’t know.’ Mitzi squeezes my hand tightly.

‘Because he’s the biggest dick alive,’ Madi blurts. ‘My God, Luce, I am so sorry. I had no idea he was capable of this. If you want me to kill him, just say the word. I’ll even bury his dumb ass in his parents’ front yard.’

‘And I’m sure if it needs to go that far I could get involved and we could convince your father to help,’ Mitzi says with half a smile.

I laugh, sort of hysterically, unsure of what’s funnier: killing him or having my grandmother and lawyer of a father help with the body?

Our steps echo in the long hallway as we make our way toward the elevators that will take us back to the bridal suite.

The light casts long shadows around us, each one a mirror of the doubts and insecurities swirling within like a growing hurricane.

How did this turn into the second worst day of my life so unexpectedly?