
He Gave Me a Used Condom at the Altar
Chapter 3
Pain flared in my palm as my fingernails broke the skin. A warm drop of blood slid down my wrist, staining the delicate lace of my cuff.
I didn't blink. I kept my eyes glued to the phone screen.
"Are you really going to say 'I do' tomorrow?" Chloe's voice drifted through the tiny speaker.
Julian chuckled. The sound made my stomach turn. "I have to. The Sterling family connections are too good to pass up. Her dad practically handed me the VP spot."
"But she's so boring, Jules," Chloe whined. "She won't even let you leave a mark on her."
"She serves a purpose," Julian replied. "She's safe. Predictable."
"Am I predictable?" Chloe asked.
"You are a menace," Julian said.
On the screen, Chloe shifted her weight, straddling him tighter. "Let's spice up the ceremony. Leave a little souvenir in the ring box."
"What kind of souvenir?" Julian asked.
"The wrapper from this," Chloe said, holding up a small silver square. "Or better yet, the actual condom. Right on the cushion."
"Are you insane? She's allergic to latex."
"Exactly," Chloe laughed. Her voice was high, sharp, and cruel. "Think she'll puff up like a balloon at the altar? Or maybe she'll just cry and run away. She's weak like that. She always runs."
"What about the rings?" Julian asked. "Who has them?"
"Marcus," Chloe replied. "He picked them up from the jeweler yesterday."
"So how do you get the condom inside?"
"Easy," Chloe said. "I'll swap the boxes before the ceremony. I bought an identical blue velvet case from the same jeweler. Marcus won't notice the difference. He'll hand the bride a little surprise, and I'll be standing right there to watch her face crumble."
"You're a menace," Julian repeated, laughing.
"I'm thorough," Chloe corrected. "By the time she figures out what's in the box, you'll already have the ring on her finger and the VP contract signed. She'll be too humiliated to call it off in front of two hundred people."
The video ended there. The screen returned to the frozen frame of Chloe straddling Julian's lap.
I lowered the phone. My hand had stopped shaking entirely.
The fear was gone. The hurt was gone. In their place sat something colder and far more useful.
They had rehearsed my humiliation like a stage play. They had counted on my silence, my softness, my desperate need to keep the peace in front of a crowd.
They had no idea who they were dealing with anymore.
I gripped the phone tighter and turned toward the locked door of the bridal suite, already mapping out exactly how I would burn their entire performance to the ground.
You may also like





