He Gave Me a Used Condom at the Altar

The sharp edge of the silver foil wrapper bit into my swollen thumb.

I held the torn packet high. The stained-glass light caught the shiny material, broadcasting the evidence to the entire church.

"A foil wrapper, Chloe?" I asked, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

Chloe backed up a step. Her white pumps scraped against the carpet.

"I don't know what that is," she stammered.

"It's the wrapper for the used condom currently sitting in my ring box," I said.

"Someone must have dropped it in my bag!" Chloe cried, looking around at the guests. "I left my purse unattended!"

I stared at her. A cold, absolute clarity settled over me.

I dropped the wrapper onto the floor.

Without another word, I turned away from the altar. My heavy silk train dragged across the polished floorboards as I marched down the center aisle.

"Aria!" Julian shouted from the altar. "Where are you going?"

I didn't answer. I kept my eyes fixed on the heavy oak doors at the back of the sanctuary.

"Aria, stop!" Eleanor yelled from the front pew. "You are ruining this day!"

I pushed through the double doors, leaving the chaotic murmurs of two hundred guests behind me.

Footsteps pounded down the aisle.

"Aria, wait!" Julian called out.

I reached the narrow corridor leading to the bridal suite. The door was ten feet away.

I grabbed the brass handle and shoved it open.

Before I could slam it shut, Julian threw his weight against the wood. He forced his way inside, panting.

"Baby, listen to me," he begged, kicking the door closed behind him.

He reached out, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, trying to pull me against his chest.

I shoved both hands hard into his sternum. "Do not touch me."

He stumbled back, his perfectly styled hair falling over his forehead. "You're overreacting."

"My finger is covered in hives, Julian," I said, holding up my swollen hand. "I am having an allergic reaction to another woman's bodily fluids."

"It's a prank!" he insisted.

"By who?" I demanded.

"Marcus," Julian said instantly. "He has a sick sense of humor. He thought it would be funny to mess with the rings."

A bitter, tight smile stretched across my face. The muscles in my cheeks ached from the effort.

"Marcus put a used condom in the ring box," I repeated slowly. "And the wrapper magically ended up at the very bottom of Chloe's purse?"

"Yes!" Julian nodded eagerly. "He probably tossed it, and she picked it up off the floor. You know how Chloe is about litter."

"Litter," I said flatly.

"It makes perfect sense," Julian pushed.

I laughed. The sound was harsh and entirely empty. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"I am telling you the truth!" Julian raised his voice. "Why won't you believe me? We've been together for seven years, Aria. You're going to throw that away over a misunderstanding?"

"A misunderstanding is forgetting to pick up the dry cleaning," I said. "This is a biohazard."

"You are being paranoid," Julian snapped, his tone shifting from pleading to angry. "We have two hundred guests out there. My mother is having a meltdown. My boss is in the third row."

"Let them melt," I told him. "And tell your boss the wedding is off."

Julian's face flushed dark red. "You are not canceling this wedding over a stupid joke. Do you know how much money my parents spent on the reception?"

"I don't care," I said.

"You are embarrassing me, Aria."

"You embarrassed yourself," I countered. "Get out."

"We need to finish the ceremony," he ordered, stepping toward me again.

I pointed a trembling finger at the door. "If you do not leave this room right now, I will walk back out there and announce exactly what I found on a microphone."

Julian stopped. His jaw flexed hard.

He stared at me, searching my face for any sign of a bluff. He found none.

"Fine," Julian spat. He backed up and grabbed the door handle. "Cool down. I'll give you five minutes. Then you are coming back out."

He stepped into the hallway.

I slammed the heavy door in his face and twisted the deadbolt. The lock clicked sharply into place.

"Five minutes!" Julian yelled through the wood.

Silence filled the room. The thick walls blocked out the noise from the sanctuary.

My left hand throbbed with a fiery heat. Red welts crawled up past my knuckles.

I ignored the pain. My mind was racing, piecing the timeline together.

Julian thought a few frantic lies would make me doubt myself. He thought I would protect his reputation over my own sanity.

He was wrong.

I lifted my heavy skirt and marched over to the vanity table. My white leather clutch sat next to a tray of untouched champagne flutes.

I snapped the bag open and dug past my lipstick.

I pulled out my phone.

Two weeks ago, packages kept disappearing from our apartment porch. I bought a tiny, motion-activated security camera and hid it on the bookshelf in our living room.

Julian never knew I moved it inside. I wanted to see if the building superintendent was letting himself in.

I unlocked my phone screen. My thumb hovered over the blue icon for the security app.

I tapped it.

The screen went black. A white loading circle appeared in the center.

*Connecting to Home Base...*

I paced the length of the Persian rug. The silk of my dress rustled loudly in the quiet room. My reflection caught in the full-length mirror. I looked pale, my elaborate updo already loosening, but my eyes were sharp.

"Come on," I muttered.

The circle spun. A blue progress bar popped up at the bottom of the screen.

*45%...*

*70%...*

*85%...*

It hit 99% and stopped.

I stopped pacing. I stared at the glass screen.

One second passed. The circle froze.

My heart pounded a heavy rhythm against my ribs.

Two seconds. The app remained stuck.

"Load," I whispered, tapping the back of the phone against my palm.

Three agonizing seconds ticked by. The progress bar sat stubbornly at 99%.

Then, the screen flashed.

The progress bar vanished. The live feed from our apartment loaded, crystal clear.

The living room was empty. The morning sun streamed through the blinds, casting sharp shadows across our gray velvet sofa.

Nobody was there.

I tapped the menu icon in the top left corner and selected the video archive.

The app sorted all recorded clips by motion detection. A list of dates and times populated the screen.

The most recent file was from yesterday afternoon. 3:00 PM.

Yesterday. While I was at the salon with my mother, getting my nails done for the wedding.

I clicked the thumbnail.

The video buffered for a fraction of a second, then started playing.

Julian walked into the frame. He wore the gray sweatpants I bought him for his birthday. He carried two glasses of wine.

He set the glasses on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa.

A second figure stepped into view.

Chloe.

She wasn't wearing her pink silk bridesmaid robe. She wasn't wearing anything at all.

The camera caught her bare back as she climbed onto the sofa cushions.

Julian leaned back, a massive grin on his face.

Chloe straddled his lap, wrapping her bare legs tightly around his waist.

She leaned down, whispering something into his ear. Julian laughed, his hands gripping her hips.

My phone shook.

My fingernails dug so deeply into my palm that the skin broke.