“Sadly, I can’t do that without going to prison, though,” Ilament with an exhale. “Not with this many witnesses, anyway. So, I guess I’ll settle for torching Brandon’s reputation, instead.”
“Shoot,” Kaylee says, snapping her fingers. “I was so hyped about the barbeque idea.”
“Life is full of disappointments, my love.” I rub my forehead. “I should warn Delilah. She might want to contract a mysterious case of the stomach flu right about now.”
Tatiana shakes her head. “I just talked to her. Delilah said she supports you, one hundred percent. She wants to stand by you today, literally and figuratively.”
My heart lurches at the unexpected vote of confidence. “Delilah said that, or that’s your interpretation?”
“She said it, just like that. This has been humbling for her. Before last night, she thought Brandon walked on water.”
My heart squeezes for poor Delilah. “Brandon fooled everyone, including every person sitting in that church.”
“All the more reason to go in there and torch him,” Kaylee says. But when Harper and Tatiana glare at her, she adds, “But, of course, we’ll support you, no matter what you decide.”
“I’m going to do it,” I whisper. “I’ll regret it if I don’t.” I look at a circular clock on the wall. “Will one of you grab my dad and brother and ask them to meet me in the hallway? I don’t want to blindside them when everything goes down.”
“I’m on it,” Harper chirps before scurrying away, the long skirt of her yellow bridesmaid gown whooshing glamorously as she goes.
“What a waste,” I mumble softly, my heart panging with memories of our ebullient day of dress shopping months ago. “I was giddy about your bridesmaid dresses when we picked them out.” I look down at my own gown. “About mine, too.”
“None of our dresses will go to waste, honey,” Kaylee declares. “We’re going to wear the shit out of them while celebrating you dodging the biggest bullet of your life tonight.”
I hang my head. “I don’t feel much like celebrating.”
“Then you’ll drown your sorrows while we dance around you,” Tatiana insists. “Kaylee’s right. Why let all that money go to waste?”
It didn’t occur to me I’d go forward with the reception tonight, but I think my friends are onto something. Everything is all paid for, after all—the food and booze and so on. Why not enjoy all of it in celebration of menotmarrying a serial cheater/sociopathic narcissist?
“Okay, count me in.” As my friends express support, I take a deep breath to calm my racing pulse. “I need to get this show on the road, or I’ll lose my nerve.” I double-check that Brandon’s weapon of mass destruction is still nestled inside my bra. When I see that it is, I head toward the door with my shoulders set and my head held high. “This is going to be fine,” I murmur to myself. “I’m going to stay calm the whole time, stick with the facts, and torch him with his own words.”
“Iris,” Dad breathes as I approach him and my brother in a quiet corner of the church’s hallway. “You look so much like your mother in that dress.”
“You look beautiful, Iris,” my brother, Atlas, agrees. He’s the only person who never fell prey to Brandon’s charms. In fact, my brother has flat-out never liked Brandon, for reasons he couldn’t articulate other than to say, “I don’t know, he just seems super fake to me.” That comment always baffled me as much as it annoyed me. But now I know my little brother had a sixth sense all along.
I look around to make sure nobody can overhear the shocking thing I’m about to say to my family. God knows I especially don’t want to say this to my father. He’s always loved Brandon like a son.
“I’m not going through with the wedding, Daddy.”
“What?”
“Let me explain without interruption,” I whisper urgently, glancing around. “We don’t have much time.” I give them a quick summary of what’s happened, and with each new sentence out of my mouth, my father looks more and more like he wants to throw up, while my brother looks more and more like he wants to commit an extremely violent murder.
“I always knew something was off about him,” Atlas says through gritted teeth.
“Believe me, I wish I’d listened to you. I guess I was too brainwashed.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Dad murmurs, rubbing his forehead. “I never thought Brandon would—”
“He would, Daddy, and he did. Repeatedly, and for a very long time.” To emphasize my point, I pull out Brandon’s burner phone and quickly show them a string of dirty texts from about two years ago—the one where Brandon told some woman he was coming over that night to “rail” her until her insides were “scrambled.” “This is just one of many, many examples,” I say. “He’s been cheating on me since we got to Denver, at least. Probably longer, but this phone doesn’t go back that far.”
“Butwhy?” Dad laments. “When he’s got the best girl in the world?”
“It’s pointless to ask why. I don’t even want to hear his excuses. All I want to do is unmask him in front of everyone he knows so I can get on with my life and never look back.”
Dad furrows his brow. “Unmask him? What does that mean?”
I tell Dad my plan to out Brandon at the altar as the lying, cheating scumbag he is, and my father looks like he’s on the cusp of a heart attack.
