THE BRIDE’S REVENGE

EMMA'S POV I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, staring at my reflection. The wedding dress fit perfectly, white silk with delicate lace sleeves, exactly what I'd dreamed of since I was a little girl. My long chestnut hair was curled and pinned up with small white flowers. I should have felt beautiful. Instead, my stomach twisted with nervousness. "You look pale," my mother said from the doorway. Margaret Hayes didn't sound concerned, just annoyed. "Put on more blush. You can't look sick in the photos." "I'm just nervous," I said quietly. "Nervous about what? You're marrying Derek Chen. Do you know how lucky you are?" She walked into the room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "He's handsome, successful, from a good family. Most importantly, his law firm handles all our company contracts. This marriage is important for business." I wanted to say that marriage should be about love, not business. But I'd learned long ago not to argue with my mother. "Where's Olivia?" I asked, looking for my twin sister. "Helping with preparations at the hotel," Mother said. "She's been so helpful, unlike you. You couldn't even be bothered to come home last night." "I was finishing the Morrison campaign at the office," I explained. "It's due Monday, and—" "Always making excuses." Mother checked her watch. "The car will be here in twenty minutes. Don't be late to your own wedding, Emma. That would be embarrassing." She left without another word. I sat on my bed, trying to calm my racing heart. Today was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I was marrying Derek, whom I'd dated for two years. He was charming and ambitious, everything my mother approved of. He said he loved me. So why did I feel like something was wrong? My phone buzzed. A text from Derek: "Can't wait to see you. Love you." I smiled despite my nerves. Maybe I was just overthinking things. Derek loved me. We were going to be happy. At the Grand Pearl Hotel, I arrived early to check the preparations. The ceremony was scheduled for four o'clock, and it was only two. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect, the flowers, the seating arrangements, the music. My mother had handled most of the planning, but this was still my wedding. I found the wedding coordinator in the main ballroom. Everything looked beautiful—white roses everywhere, golden chairs with silk ribbons, soft music playing through the speakers. "Mrs. Chen!" The coordinator beamed at me. "Everything is ready. You should go to the bridal suite and relax before getting dressed." "I'm already dressed," I laughed. "Oh! Well, you look beautiful. The bridal suite is on the third floor, room 312. Refreshments are waiting for you." I thanked her and headed upstairs. My hands shook slightly as I pressed the elevator button. This was really happening. In two hours, I would be married. The third-floor hallway was quiet and elegant, with thick carpet and soft lighting. I walked toward room 312, my dress rustling with each step. I could hear voices inside, probably the makeup artist and hairstylist my mother hired. But as I got closer, I realized the voices weren't professional. They were intimate, breathy, followed by soft laughter. My hand froze on the door handle. My brain tried to make sense of what I was hearing, but my body already knew. I pushed the door open. The scene would be burned into my memory forever. Derek's suit jacket was on the floor. His shirt was half-unbuttoned. And Olivia, my twin sister, wearing a tight red dress, had her arms wrapped around his neck. They were kissing like they were alone in the world. I must have made a sound, because they jumped apart. "Emma!" Derek's face went completely white. "This isn't, I can explain…" But I wasn't looking at him anymore. I was staring at Olivia, who straightened her dress with absolutely no shame on her face. In fact, she was smiling. "Oh, Emma," she said sweetly. "You're early." The wedding dress I was wearing suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. My carefully pinned hair, my perfect makeup, the flowers in my hands, all of it felt like a costume for a play I didn't understand. "How long?" The words came out barely above a whisper. Derek ran his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture I'd seen a hundred times. "Emma, listen to me…" "How long has this been going on?" I asked again, louder this time. Olivia examined her fingernails, still smiling that terrible smile. "Six months. We've been together for six months." Six months. Half a year. While I was planning this wedding, choosing flowers and cake flavors, and writing vows, Derek had been sleeping with my sister. "We were going to tell you," Olivia continued, like we were discussing weekend plans. "After the wedding, obviously." "After the wedding?" I repeated stupidly. "Well, someone had to marry him," Olivia shrugged. "Mother insisted Derek marry into the family for the business partnership. I suggested it might as well be you, since you're so desperate for someone to love you." The cruelty of those words hit me like a slap. All my life, Olivia had been the favorite—the pretty one, the confident one, the daughter our mother actually wanted. I'd accepted being second best, told myself it didn't matter as long as I had Derek. But I'd never had Derek at all. "Olivia, that's enough," Derek said, but his voice was weak. "Why? She deserves to know the truth." Olivia stepped closer to me. We were identical twins, but somehow she'd always seemed more beautiful, more vibrant. "Derek and I are in love. Real love, not whatever you two had. We didn't mean for it to happen, but we can't help how we feel." "You can't help it," I repeated, my voice shaking now. "You can't help sleeping with my fiancé six months before my wedding?" "Don't be dramatic," Olivia said. "It's not like you and Derek had some great romance. He proposed because Mother told him to. You said yes because you were grateful someone wanted you." Before I could respond, the door burst open. My mother stood there in her expensive navy dress, her face tight with anger. "What is going on here?" Margaret Hayes demanded. Then she saw Derek's unbuttoned shirt, Olivia's smudged lipstick, and her expression changed. Not to shock or disappointment, but to calculation. "Mother," I started, my voice breaking. "They've been..." "I know what they've been doing," Mother interrupted coldly. "Derek told me last week." The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "You knew?" "Of course, I knew. I'm not blind." She crossed her arms. "Emma, stop making a scene. These things happen." "These things?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "He was cheating on me with my sister, and you knew?" "The wedding is necessary for business," Mother said in the same tone she used to discuss quarterly reports. "Derek's law firm handles all our contracts. We can't afford to lose that relationship. You'll marry him as planned." Something inside me cracked. All the years of being overlooked, of being criticized, of trying so hard to make my mother proud, it all crystallized into a moment of perfect, blinding clarity. "No," I said. Mother's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?" "No. I won't marry him." I looked at Derek, who wouldn't meet my eyes. "You're a coward. You couldn't even tell me yourself." "Emma, be reasonable," he started. "Reasonable?" I almost laughed. "You want me to be reasonable about you sleeping with my sister for six months?" "It's not about the s*x," Olivia said, still with that terrible smile. "It's about love. Something you wouldn't understand." "Then you marry him!" I shouted at her. "If you love him so much, you marry him!" Olivia examined her nails again. "I'm not interested in being tied down yet. I have my influencer career to think about. Besides, Derek needs the Hayes name for his partnership promotion. You're perfect for that, quiet, obedient, forgettable." Forgettable. The word echoed in my head. I looked at my mother, who was checking her watch impatiently. I looked at Derek, who was adjusting his shirt, already planning his next move. I looked at Olivia, who thought she'd won some kind of victory. "You're all pathetic," I said quietly. Then I turned and ran. Behind me, I heard my mother shout my name, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. My vision blurred with tears as I raced down the hallway, away from the bridal suite, away from the ballroom where guests would soon arrive, away from the life I thought I was supposed to have. I found a service stairwell and took it down, my heels clicking on the concrete steps. The wedding dress kept catching on the railing, but I pulled it free and kept going. Down, down, down until I burst through a door into a small courtyard garden. The afternoon sun was bright. I stood there gasping for air, my carefully styled hair falling loose, my makeup running down my face. The garden was empty except for a man sitting on a bench in the corner. He looked up from his laptop, and for a second, we just stared at each other. "Rough day?" he asked.