At My Wedding, the Groom Called Me a Rehearsal Stand‑In

Serena pinched the ruined silk. She pulled the heavy fabric outward, inspecting the jagged crimson stain spreading across her thighs. Her lips curved upward into a smile so pure it belonged on a child.

"Mia, red is kind of my lucky color, you know?" she asked.

Her voice carried a sickeningly innocent pitch. Behind her, a groomsman laughed at a joke. Crystal glasses clinked at Table Four. The reception hummed with oblivious joy, a sharp contrast to the cold dread pooling in my stomach.

Serena took a half-step forward. She leaned in, pressing her lips a fraction of an inch from my ear.

"The happiest days of my month are when you're on your period," she whispered. The words slid against my skin like ice. "Because Leo only wakes up in my bed those mornings."

My stomach violently rejected the air in my lungs. Acid rushed up my throat.

I stared at her perfectly glossed mouth.

*Business trips.*

Every single month for eight years. The cramp-filled mornings. The hot water bottles I clutched alone in our apartment. The texts from Leo saying his flight to Chicago or London was delayed.

"You're lying," I choked out.

Serena tilted her head. "Am I? Ask him."

Bile coated the back of my tongue. I raised my right hand, curling my fingers into a tight, shaking palm. I aimed straight for her smug, flawless cheek. I swung with everything I had left.

Fingers clamped around my forearm.

The forward momentum stopped dead. A sharp, sickening crack fired from my wrist joint. Pain shot up to my elbow.

Leo stood between us. His grip dug into my radius.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded.

I yanked my arm, but he only squeezed harder. Another pop echoed from my carpal bones. It sounded terribly loud against the upbeat jazz playing from the corner speakers. The cheerful clatter of silver forks hitting porcelain plates at the guest tables mocked the agonizing throb in my arm.

"Let me go!" I yelled.

"So you can assault my fiancée?" Leo shot back. His brow pulled together in a tight, angry knot. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Did you sleep with her?" I asked. My voice cracked. "Every time I was sick? Every single month?"

Leo didn't look away. He didn't blink.

"All these years, Serena only asked for those few days each month to spare your feelings," he said, his tone entirely serious. "And you're not grateful? You want to hit her?"

The ballroom spun. The golden chandelier light fractured into blinding spikes.

"Spare my feelings?" I repeated.

"She didn't want to flaunt it in your face," Leo explained, dropping my arm like it burned him. "She knew you were obsessed with this fake life we built. She gave you twenty-six days a month to play house. She only took four."

"You call cheating on me 'sparing my feelings'?"

"I call it managing a difficult situation," he countered.

"You lied to me for eight years!"

"I protected you for eight years," Leo corrected. "Serena sacrificed her own happiness so you wouldn't feel inadequate. She hid in the shadows. You should be thanking her for her patience."

I stared at him. The sheer absurdity of his words paralyzed my vocal cords.

"Thanking her?" I whispered.

"Yes," Leo stated firmly. "She put your fragile ego above her own needs."

"My fragile ego?" I asked, taking a step closer to him. "I built HART company from the ground up. I negotiated the supply chains. I stayed awake for three days straight to fix your PR nightmare last year."

"That was your job," Leo replied seamlessly.

"And my reward was you sleeping with my best friend?"

"Your reward was a six-figure salary and a penthouse view," he shot back.

"I didn't want the penthouse!" I yelled, my voice tearing through the ambient noise of the ballroom. "I wanted the man I loved. I wanted the man who held my hand in the hospital."

"That man grew up," Leo said, his eyes flat and devoid of any warmth. "You stayed stuck in the past, Mia. You kept holding onto a high school tragedy to keep me chained to you."

My chest caved in. The pain wasn't just in my wrist anymore. It ripped through my ribs, tearing apart every memory I had stored of this man.

I looked at his tailored suit. I looked at his perfectly styled hair.

I tried to find the sixteen-year-old boy hiding underneath.

*The golf club.*

The heavy iron swinging down, aiming right for Leo's temple. I had shoved him into the dirt. I had taken the blow. Fifteen pieces of shattered bone. The sterile smell of the hospital room.

He had knelt beside my bed, his face pale, his hands shaking as he held my fingers.

*"If I ever betray Mia Carter, may I die a miserable death,"* young Leo had sworn to the ceiling tiles.

That vow struck the dead center of my shattered heart like a rusty nail.

I focused on the grown man standing in front of me now.

"You swore an oath," I said, my voice eerily calm.

"People say stupid things when they're teenagers," Leo dismissed, adjusting his cuffs.

"You swore you would die a miserable death."

"I bought you a prosthetic leg that costs more than most people's houses," he said coldly. "The debt is paid. Move on."

"A debt?" I laughed. The sound was harsh, scraping against the upbeat party music. "I gave you my leg, Leo. I gave you my youth. You turned it into a transaction?"

Serena stepped out from behind him. She placed a manicured hand on his chest.

"Mia, please," Serena pleaded, raising her voice just enough for the closest tables to hear. "Don't ruin Leo's big day. We tried to be gentle with you."

"Gentle?" I asked.

"We kept it a secret so you wouldn't feel cast aside," she added, her eyes wide with manufactured pity.

I looked around the room. Three hundred guests. They were drinking champagne. They were eating caviar. They were watching me bleed out on the dance floor. The laughter from the back of the room sounded like shattered glass.

"You kept it a secret to use me," I stated.

Leo sighed. "You're acting hysterical."

"I planned your entire company merger while you were in her bed!" I screamed.

The music stopped. The DJ had cut the track. The silence in the Plaza Hotel ballroom was absolute, save for the hum of the air conditioning.

"Lower your voice," Leo warned, stepping closer.

"Or what?" I challenged, stepping right back into his space. My prosthetic joint thumped heavily against the hardwood. "You'll break my other leg?"

Leo's jaw clenched. "I am trying to handle this with dignity."

"There is no dignity here," I spat. "You used my pain as a schedule for your affairs."

"You are embarrassing yourself," Leo said.

"No, Leo. You are cursed," I told him, pointing a finger at his chest. "You swore an oath to the universe. You will pay for this."

Serena let out a soft, mocking sigh. "Oh, Mia. Stop being so dramatic."

A violent shove parted the crowd near the head table.

Ethan broke through the line of bridesmaids. My younger brother didn't look at me with sympathy. He looked frantic, almost giddy with the chaos.

He marched straight up to me, holding his glowing smartphone out.

"You really are clueless, aren't you?" Ethan sneered.

"Ethan, stay out of this," I warned.

"Why?" he shot back. "You're making a fool of yourself defending a relationship that never existed."

He shoved the phone directly into my face. The screen brightness stung my eyes.

"Sis, look at Serena's Instagram," Ethan demanded, his voice ringing through the silent ballroom. "Don't you know the truth yet?"