“I bet Dylan’s kicking himself right now. He probably thinks he just overreacted.”

He paused, then said in a mocking tone, “I swear, he’ll come crawling back tomorrow to apologize.”

...

I sat frozen in the backseat of the cab. I could feel all the warmth drain from my body in an instant.

My best friend, who had been through everything with me, and the woman I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, had betrayed me.

The agony I had been putting myself through was just a joke to them.

The truth hit me like a knife straight through the heart.

“Sir, are you getting out of here?”

The driver’s voice sounded distant, but it managed to pull me back.

My trembling hand hovered over the door handle.

If I were to get out of the cab, I could stand in front of them and demand answers from them.

Why did they betray me? Of all people?

But the truth was painfully clear.

Any accusations or arguments would only make me look more pathetic.

I limply retracted my hand from the handle.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Actually, let’s just go.”

Through the rearview mirror, I watched their intertwined forms shrink into the distance until the night swallowed them completely.

Returning home late at night, the wedding portrait hanging on the wall hit me like a punch to the gut.

In the photo, Clara was beaming as she leaned against my shoulder.

Both of us looked so hopeful about our future together.

We had decorated every corner of this home together.

She said that after we got married, she wanted two children and a cat.

We would be the happiest little family in the world.

Those hopes and promises had become utter lies.

Why?

And when had all of this even begun?

I collapsed onto the couch as memories came flooding back.

Clara had once told me that her parents divorced because of infidelity.

For that reason, she despised people who were unfaithful.

One time, while drunk, she curled up in my arms with her eyes brimming with tears and asked me, “You’re only ever going to love me, right?”

In that moment, she looked so vulnerable. I swore to myself that I would always protect her. But at this moment, she had become the very thing I despised most. Had she cheated with someone else, I would perhaps not feel this devastated.

Why did it have to be Jonah, of all people?

We had grown up together in the orphanage.

For as long as I could remember, we were each other’s only family.

He took beatings for me. I took a knife for him.

He said we would be best friends for life.

Three years ago, I was diagnosed with leukemia.

Jonah had wept and gripped the doctor’s hand. He had not hesitated to offer himself for a match test.

He would have given his life to save mine without a second thought.

The day we learned it was a misdiagnosis, he held me tight and cried his eyes out.

That was the first time I ever saw him cry.

It was also the moment I began to trust him completely.

I believed with all my heart that he was my ride-or-die.

I picked up the photo of the three of us from the coffee table with trembling hands.

I had my arm around Clara. Jonah had his hand on my shoulder. We were all smiling so brightly.

The picture blurred as tears silently rolled down my face.

I could not help but wonder.

Had Clara ever truly loved me?

Were all those sweet moments and promises fake?

Did Jonah ever really consider me his best friend?

Was that loyalty, the whole “ride or die” act, just a performance too?

I did not even know how to answer those questions.

I wiped away my tears and eventually calmed down.

I did not think I could pretend that nothing happened.

After thinking it through, I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

...

Soon, it was the wedding day.

During the reception, the banquet hall was packed with guests.

Jonah showed up early. He looked sharp in his tailored suit.

He walked over to me with a glass in his hand and draped an arm around my shoulder like old times.

“Dylan, let bygones be bygones. We’ve been brothers for what, fifteen years? Let’s not let some little misunderstanding ruin our friendship.”

Clara came over, too. She looped her arm through mine and teased, “I spent forever talking him down that day, you know. So don’t go getting all suspicious on us again.”

I extended my hand and smiled genuinely before saying, “Jonah, I totally overreacted the other day. To make it right, I’ve got you something special.”

“Oh? What’d you get me? Don’t tell me it’s that watch I’ve been wanting. Or something even better?” Jonah asked curiously.

I just smiled and told him the surprise would have to wait.

In the middle of the reception, I “accidentally” spilled red wine on Clara’s gown.

Fortunately, we had prepared well for the wedding.

As I apologized, I urged her to quickly go to the changing room and put on the backup dress.

Clara did not blame me much. She hurried off toward the changing room.

Jonah immediately stood up too, saying he would go with her.

He might as well help her carry things, he added.

I smirked as I watched them leave one after the other.

Ten minutes later, they returned to the banquet hall.

Clara had changed into a new gown. She looked flawless.

Suddenly, the lights went out.

The entire hall was plunged into darkness. Murmurs of surprise rippled through the guests.

From somewhere in the dark, a voice suddenly exclaimed, “Clara, why is your chest glowing?”

Hearing this, Clara instinctively looked down.

That was when she saw it. Several fluorescent handprints glowed on her chest and backside.

Jonah’s hands were glowing too.

The lights flickered back on moments later. Under the harsh brightness, the glowing traces were impossible to miss.

“What is this?! Why is this on my dress?!” Clara stammered in panic.

The guests’ stunned stares only deepened her flush.

Just then, Jonah struck first. He shouted, “Who even does this kind of sick prank?!”

Before he could say another word, I walked straight up to him.

I did not let him get an excuse out. I swung hard and landed a punch right on his face.

Jonah hit the floor with a yelp.

“Dylan, are you out of your mind?! Someone’s clearly trying to mess with us!” Clara shrieked as she tried to hold me back.

Jonah scrambled up as he held his bloody nose. His face twisted in pain.

“What is wrong with you?! I have no idea what’s going on! Wait, you actually think I touched Clara?”

“Actually, I do,” I said with an ice-cold tone.

Then, I gave a quick clap.

In the next second, the giant screen on stage was turned on.

Clara and Jonah went pale as ghosts.

I calmly walked to the center of the stage, picked up the microphone, and spoke steadily, “Jonah, that gift I promised you is just about to get started.”