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“Pretty sure the baby can’t hear me over all the organ music.” She capped the mascara and turned to face me fully. “Seriously though, you good? You look weird.”

This was my moment. I could tell her about the text, about the contact name, about the way my gut was screaming that something was wrong. Sophie would know what to do. She always did. Even though I was older by twelve minutes, she’d always been the one with answers.

But what would I say? “I saw a text preview and now I think my fiancé might be cheating on me”? On my wedding day? With two hundred guests already taking their seats?

“I’m good,” I said instead. “Just ready to get this over with.”

“Romantic.” Sophie hauled herself out of her chair, one hand on her lower back. “Come on. Let’s get you married.”

The walk to the church entrance was a blur of last-minute touches. Someone handed me my bouquet. Someone else adjusted my veil. My mom appeared at my elbow, already crying, and I had to tell her to save it for the actual aisle. She was walking me down. Had been since Dad died three years ago, a quiet exit from a man who’d spent his whole life being quiet.

Then the music started, and it was too late to stop any of it.

The church doors opened, and two hundred people turned to look at me. I’d specifically requested no phones during the ceremony, but I could see the subtle glow of screens being held low. Everyone wanted their own angle of the bride.

I started walking.

Garrett stood at the altar, hands clasped in front of him, wearing the expression of a man who’d won the lottery. Behind him, his groomsmen stood in a line of matching tuxes and identical smirks. I’d never liked his friends. They all worked at the same investment firm, all drove the same type of car, all dated the same type of woman. Interchangeable bros with good hair and bad personalities.

But none of that mattered because I loved Garrett. I’d loved him for four years. I’d loved him through the long hours at work, through the canceled plans, through the way he sometimes looked at other women just a beat too long.

That text didn’t mean anything. The contact name was weird, sure, but there had to be an explanation. Maybe it was a work thing. Maybe it was…

I was halfway down the aisle when I saw Sophie.

She’d taken her place with the other bridesmaids, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking at Garrett. And the expression on her face made my steps falter.

I’d seen my sister look at men before. I’d seen her flirt, seen her seduce, seen her destroy. We might be twins, but Sophie had always been the one who could walk into a room and own it. Where I was careful, she was reckless. Where I was steady, she burned bright.

But I’d never seen her look at someone the way she was looking at my fiancé.

Like she was starving and he was a feast.

Like she was drowning and he was air.

Then she caught me staring. In the space of a heartbeat, her expression changed completely. The hunger vanished, replaced by tears and a trembling smile. The perfect picture of a hormonal pregnant sister overwhelmed by her twin’s big day.

But I’d seen it.

And once you see something like that, you can’t unsee it.

My feet kept moving because that was what feet do when two hundred people are watching. The smile stayed on my face because twenty-three thousand dollars of deposits were non-refundable. But inside, that thread that had pulled loose when I saw the text was unraveling faster now, taking everything with it.

I reached the altar. My mom kissed my cheek, placed my hand in Garrett’s, and took her seat. The warmth of Garrett’s palm against mine should have been comforting. Instead, it felt like a lie.

The minister started talking. Something about love and commitment and the sacred bonds of marriage. I wasn’t listening. I was thinking about that text. About the way Sophie had looked at him.

About the way he was looking at me now, with tears in his eyes and a smile that seemed genuine.

“Dearly beloved,” the minister droned, “we are gathered here today…”

The ceremony moved forward on autopilot. Stand here. Hold hands there. Light the unity candle. Exchange the rings. I said my vows, words I’d written myself about trust and partnership and building a life together. Garrett said his, something he’d definitely found online about being my anchor in stormy seas.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Garrett’s hands cupped my face. His lips met mine. The church erupted in applause.

I opened my eyes mid-kiss.