I thought my wedding day was perfect—until the priest stopped mid-ceremony and said, “I can’t allow this marriage to happen.” Then he walked out.
Panicked, I followed him. He looked heartbroken when he told me he’d caught my fiancé, Rick, kissing my maid of honor—my best friend, Amber—behind the church, just an hour earlier. And yes, the security camera confirmed it.
Rick denied everything. Then begged. Then blamed “pre-wedding jitters.” Amber cried. I asked how long it had been going on. Three months, she admitted.
I left the church alone, but not broken. I told the guests there’d be no wedding—but the reception was still on. They stayed. They danced. And I celebrated my freedom.
Turns out, the happiest day of my life wasn’t my wedding—it was the day I walked away from someone who didn’t deserve me.