Why is it that even when I’ve done nothing wrong, they already see me as guilty of the worst offenses? My throat feels bitter, and there's a weight pressing down as if I'm swallowing shards of glass.

At precisely eight o'clock, the bridal party gathered outside our new home to play entrance games. "Let's start with a toast!" Devin Berry handed two small glasses of whiskey to Clark Davis and Raven Gilbert, grinning mischievously.

Their faces flushed as they linked arms, bringing their faces close together. Clark’s Adam's apple moved with elegance as he swallowed. A memory surfaced—whether it was the first time he met my family or during Thanksgiving dinners over the past seven years, he never touched alcohol. No matter how much my dad and relatives encouraged him to enjoy a drink with the in-laws, he always refused with a firm face, saying, "I'm a doctor; alcohol affects the nervous system and causes tremors."

Yet here was Clark, brow furrowed as he quickly downed his drink. Without hesitating at the burn, he grabbed Raven's unfinished glass and emptied it. "This stuff packs a punch; I’ll drink hers too."

As soon as the glasses were put away, Devin held up a piece of chocolate tied to a string, with a mysterious smile. "Clark, Raven, let's see how well you work together. Reaching my bride's door depends on you."

Amidst the cheers, Clark and Raven faced each other, leaning forward to reach the dangling sweet. Raven’s cheeks were flushed, and even the usually stoic Clark had ears tinged with red.

As their faces drew closer, the knot in my chest tightened. Under my intense gaze, the chocolate softened from the warmth of their mouths. When their lips finally met, Clark jerked back, quickly pulling away. But I saw it—Raven's seemingly accidental, light lick against his lips.

Devin tossed the barely-eaten chocolate aside, shouting, "Congrats on the wedding! May your love be sweet and joyful! You've passed the test; open the door!"

My legs felt heavy as lead, and I trailed behind the crowd. The noise around me was overwhelming, yet inside, I felt only emptiness. Clark, standing tall amid the group, suddenly turned to look at me. I saw a flicker of worry, guilt, and hesitation in his eyes.

I pressed my nails into my palms and forced a smile his way. Clark relaxed his tense expression, returning my smile with a gentle one of his own.

I suddenly recall the day I first met Clark Davis. We were both navigating the debris of a disaster-stricken area, trying to document the devastation on camera to raise awareness and gather resources. Amidst the ruins, I encountered Clark, tirelessly working to save lives. That day, he seemed to radiate hope, his white coat trailing behind him like a hero's cape.

Because Clark was always so busy, I never asked for a wedding, nor did I demand his constant presence. His distant nature meant I never expected romance or attention. As a journalist, I prided myself on being pragmatic about relationships. Yet, meeting Clark taught me that falling in love could mean sacrificing everything.

"Clark, get ready to welcome the bride!" Devin Berry called out. Amidst the playful shouts, Clark took the bouquet from Devin and got down on one knee before Raven Gilbert. Tears glistened in Raven’s eyes as she solemnly accepted the bouquet from him. "I do," she declared.

A sharp pain gripped my heart, a sting behind my eyes. No matter how much I wanted to deny it, I couldn't deceive myself any longer. Even without having a wedding of my own, I knew these rituals were meant for the bride and groom.

Everyone was stunned, even the bride waiting at the bridal table, her joyous smile frozen in place. "I was just showing Clark how it's done," Devin tried to joke it off, taking the bouquet from Raven and proposing to the bride again.

The bride, visibly upset and lost in thought, pretended not to notice. "It's almost time. Let's get to the venue," Devin continued, attempting to lighten the mood.

Downstairs, at the line of wedding cars, Devin directed everyone to get into their vehicles. I stood waiting for Clark, expecting that as his wife, we’d share a car, even if he was acting as the best man. Suddenly, Raven, with tears threatening to spill, tugged on Clark's sleeve and whispered something. Clark swept her up in his arms, and under everyone's watchful eyes, they got into the lead Bentley together.

Now, not just the bride, but even Devin was at a loss for words. The bride looked at me with a dark expression and threw her bouquet to the ground. "They're in my wedding car. Where am I supposed to sit?"

Devin awkwardly suggested, "The convertible behind the lead car is lovely too. We can quickly spruce it up with the bouquet."

The bride, struggling to contain her anger, snapped, "Devin Berry, what is going on with them? Who's getting married today, exactly?"

"If you don’t provide me with an explanation, I’m not getting into that car."

Faced with the bride's continuous demands, Devin Berry looked uneasily between her and me, clearly stuck in a tough spot. The window of the lead limousine rolled down, and Raven Gilbert leaned out with a concerned look. "Devin, why aren’t you getting in the car? It’s almost time."

"My fiancée’s having a bit of a meltdown," Devin replied awkwardly. "I’ll sort it out quickly."

The bride gritted her teeth in frustration. "I’m not going through with this wedding!"

Just as she was about to kick off her pumps and bolt, panic flashed across Devin's face. "Listen, today is for both couples to get married. Clark and Raven were each other’s first loves and missed out after eight years apart. As a longtime friend, I’ve watched their rocky romance and wanted to help them out."

The bride listened, incredulous, while Devin lowered his voice. "Clark wants to give Raven the wedding she never had. Their love story is legendary and moving, and I can't sum it up in a few words. Please, just bear with us and rise above, okay?"

Seeing the bride’s expression remain tense, Devin looked at me with resignation. "Winnie is still here, you know. Imagine how she’d feel seeing you upset."

"There are so many guests waiting. Let’s keep our composure, alright?"

The bride cast a pitying glance at me, eventually relenting and getting into the second limousine. I quietly got into the last car, following along to the outdoor wedding venue.

The prick of a needle hurts when it first punctures the skin, but once you accept the pain, you stop noticing it.

Since today was Clark Davis’s wedding, how could I, his wife, not be present?

By the time our vehicle arrived at the venue, chaos had already erupted.

"Who arranged for the balloons and streamers? I specifically said I didn’t want them!" the bride cried, looking disheveled despite her meticulous preparation. "I got up at five this morning to do my makeup. How am I supposed to go on stage like this?"

Devin waved it off. "Raven said the ceremony needed a splash of grandeur. If your makeup’s smudged, just touch it up."

Raven, looking perfectly composed, stood apart. "Want me to help you fix your makeup?"

"No!" the bride snapped, storming into the dressing room and slamming the door behind her.

With that bit of drama over, I watched silently as Clark knelt and helped Raven swap her shoes for the ballet flats he’d bought her.

"The grass is uneven here," Clark said gently. "Flats will be safer."

I glanced down at my own high heels, feeling a sudden ache in my feet that seemed to reach my eyes, making them sting.