Wedding Day Humiliation: A Love Lost

Wedding Day Humiliation: A Love Lost

Gavin

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The wedding music had been looping for over an hour. Everyone was looking at me, standing alone on the stage under the ridiculously expensive floral arch. My fiancée, Sophia Reed, was absent on our wedding day. My phone buzzed. It was a video call from Sophia. A wave of relief washed over me. Her face would pop up, she' d apologize, and the party could continue. But it wasn' t her face that filled the giant screen. It was a scandalous scene, broadcast in high definition for hundreds of our closest friends and business associates. A smug man' s voice asked, "Am I better than Ethan Miller?" Then Sophia' s voice, breathless, replied, "Liam, you' re so much better." A collective gasp sucked the air out of the room. My smile froze. My brain kicked into overdrive. I calmly activated the screen recording function. The crowd erupted, phones out, filming the spectacle. Sophia' s family stormed towards me. Her father yelled, "Ethan Miller, turn off your phone!" "Mr. Reed, what' s the point?" I asked, gesturing to the sea of phones. "Everyone' s already seen what they shouldn' t. My reputation is ruined. The wedding is a joke. So let them see it all. Let them see I' m the victim. That' s the best way to salvage my image now." Despite everything, I found myself handing him his emergency heart medication. I, Ethan Miller, the self-made man, who had endured so much for their family, including agreeing to marry Sophia despite knowing her secrets, was now publicly humiliated. But then, the unbelievable happened. "It' s fake!" she blurted out, her voice trembling. "It' s all fake! It's makeup! Even the video... it was pre-made AI footage. It wasn' t me...!" My mind, usually so quick and decisive, short-circuited. Why would she do this? Why orchestrate such an elaborate, humiliating lie? I knew then that I had to find out.

Introduction

The wedding music had been looping for over an hour.

Everyone was looking at me, standing alone on the stage under the ridiculously expensive floral arch.

My fiancée, Sophia Reed, was absent on our wedding day.

My phone buzzed. It was a video call from Sophia.

A wave of relief washed over me. Her face would pop up, she' d apologize, and the party could continue.

But it wasn' t her face that filled the giant screen.

It was a scandalous scene, broadcast in high definition for hundreds of our closest friends and business associates.

A smug man' s voice asked, "Am I better than Ethan Miller?"

Then Sophia' s voice, breathless, replied, "Liam, you' re so much better."

A collective gasp sucked the air out of the room. My smile froze.

My brain kicked into overdrive. I calmly activated the screen recording function.

The crowd erupted, phones out, filming the spectacle. Sophia' s family stormed towards me.

Her father yelled, "Ethan Miller, turn off your phone!"

"Mr. Reed, what' s the point?" I asked, gesturing to the sea of phones. "Everyone' s already seen what they shouldn' t. My reputation is ruined. The wedding is a joke. So let them see it all. Let them see I' m the victim. That' s the best way to salvage my image now."

Despite everything, I found myself handing him his emergency heart medication.

I, Ethan Miller, the self-made man, who had endured so much for their family, including agreeing to marry Sophia despite knowing her secrets, was now publicly humiliated.

But then, the unbelievable happened.

"It' s fake!" she blurted out, her voice trembling. "It' s all fake! It's makeup! Even the video... it was pre-made AI footage. It wasn' t me...!"

My mind, usually so quick and decisive, short-circuited.

Why would she do this? Why orchestrate such an elaborate, humiliating lie?

I knew then that I had to find out.

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