Jane
The woman staring back at me in the mirror looked like a bride. White lace clung to curves I had learned to hide and to despise.
My auburn hair was pinned into an elegant updo that had taken the stylist two hours. My makeup had been carefully applied to make my green eyes look less tired and less defeated.
I looked like a bride, but I didn't feel like one. My hands trembled as I smoothed down the front of the dress for the hundredth time.
I only had thirty minutes until I walked down that aisle and became Mrs. Jane Armstrong. I only had thirty minutes until everything changed.
“It will change.” I told myself firmly. It was the same mantra I had been repeating for months.
Marriage will make him kinder. Marriage will make him see me differently. Marriage will make him love me.
The thought felt hollow, even in my own head.
I pressed my palm against my stomach, trying to calm the nausea rolling through me. Behind me, the bridal suite was empty.
Maribel had left ten minutes ago to check on something, and the other bridesmaids had gone to take their positions. I was alone with my reflection and my doubts.
“You're lucky I'm even marrying you,” Hudson's voice echoed in my memory from last week. “With that body? That face? You should be grateful, Jane.”
I had cried in the bathroom after, then I convinced myself he was just stressed about the wedding.
My phone buzzed and it was a text from my mother.
“Don't mess this up. The Armstrongs are a good family. You'll never get another chance like this.”
Right. Because what else was I without Hudson? A failed assistant making barely enough to survive. A woman with no prospects, no confidence and no future.
He was my boss, my fiancé, my everything. If I walked away now, I would lose my job, my home and my entire life.
I had to marry him. There was no other option.
But God, I needed reassurance. Just a kind word, a gentle touch, something to remind me why I had said yes in the first place.
Hudson could be sweet when he wanted to be. Maybe if I just saw him and talked to him for a moment.
I knew it was bad luck for a groom to see the bride before the wedding, but my feet were already moving, carrying me out of the bridal suite and down the hallway toward Hudson's room.
My hands knew the code to his door. I had stayed over enough times, always leaving before morning so the staff wouldn't see.
The lock beeped and I pushed the door open, words already forming on my lips.
“Hudson, I just wanted to—”
The words died in my throat instantly.
The suite was dim and the curtains drawn against the morning sun, but I could see everything. When I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING.
Maribel, my best friend, was bent over the vanity, her bridesmaid dress hiked up around her waist, her perfect platinum blonde hair spilling over her shoulders.
Her hands gripped the marble edge, her knuckles white and her magazine-cover face contorted in pleasure, and behind her, his pants around his ankles, his shirt half-unbuttoned, was Hudson.
My fiancé. The man I was supposed to marry in twenty-five minutes.
He was f*****g her. Hard. His fingers dug into her hips as he slammed into her, the filthy slap of skin against skin filling the room. His c**k disappeared into her again and again, glistening with her wetness every time he pulled back.
“Oh f**k, Hudson, yes,” Maribel moaned, her voice breathy and desperate. “Harder. f**k me harder.”
Time stopped instantly. My heart stopped. Everything stopped except them.
Hudson's eyes met mine over Maribel's arched back and he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. Instead, his lips curled into a cruel smile as he thrust deeper, making Maribel cry out.
“Well, well,” He panted, his voice dripping with contempt. “Look who finally decided to show up.”
I couldn't move or breathe. I couldn't look away as he continued to pound into my best friend, his c**k driving into her slick p***y with brutal precision.
“Hudson—” My voice came out as a broken whisper as my heart shattered into a million pieces in my chest.
Hudson had hurt me on so many occasions but this had to be the worst of it all.
“What's wrong, Jane?” He punctuated his words with another vicious thrust that made Maribel whimper. “Surprised? You shouldn't be. Look at her,” His hand slid up Maribel's spine possessively. “And then look at yourself.”
Tears blurred my vision as the pain in my chest intensified. “Please stop—”
“Why would I stop?” He grabbed Maribel's hair, pulling her head back and making her moan louder. “She's tight and wet. She actually wants me to f**k her, unlike you, who just lies there like a dead fish.”
“Hudson,” Maribel gasped, her blue eyes rolling back. “I'm so close—”
She didn't even acknowledge me or look at me. She didn't apologize or even seem to care that I was standing there watching.
She was completely lost in it. Her body rocked back to meet his thrusts as her moans got louder and more desperate.
“This is what a real woman looks like,” Hudson continued, his voice harsh with exertion and cruelty.
His free hand came around to grip Maribel's breast through her dress. “Not some pathetic little mouse who thinks a white dress will make me love her,”
The tears were falling down my cheeks now, but I still couldn't move. I was still finding it difficult to process what was happening right now.
“You were always going to be nothing, Jane,” He thrust harder, making Maribel scream. “Nothing but a convenient safety net. Someone too weak and desperate to leave. Did you really think I loved you? Did you really think anyone could love you?”
“Hudson, f**k, I'm coming—” Maribel's voice peaked, her body shaking as her orgasm hit.
My hand found the door frame, gripping it to keep myself upright. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. Not on my wedding day. Not with my best friend. Not like this.
“Get out,” Hudson ordered, still moving inside Maribel, chasing his own release. “Go wait at the altar like a good little bride. Maybe I'll still marry you. Maybe I won't. Doesn't matter either way, does it? You're nothing without me.”
A sound behind me made me freeze. I could feel a presence and it was powerful and commanding. I turned my head slightly and found myself looking into piercing grey eyes
Julius Armstrong stood in the doorway, his face carved from stone, his jaw clenched so tight, I could see the muscle ticking.
Hudson's father, the man who was supposed to be my father-in-law had just seen everything.