The ceremony was everything I’d dreamed of. We said our vows under an arch of white roses while sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows.
When the pastor said:
“You may kiss the bride,”
Ed lifted my veil so gently and kissed me like we were the only two people in the world. Everything felt perfect. Then came the time to cut the cake. I’d been looking forward to this moment for weeks. I’d seen it in movies, magazines, and on Pinterest.
I imagined Ed and me standing together, our hands joined on the knife handle, cutting that first perfect slice. Maybe he’d feed me a small bite, and I’d laugh and wipe a crumb from his lip.
Instead, Ed grinned at me with this mischievous look I should have recognized as trouble.
“Ready, babe?”
he asked, his hand covering mine on the kn:ife.
“Ready,”
I said, smiling up at him.
We made the cut together, and I was reaching for the server when Ed suddenly grabbed the back of my head and shoved my entire face straight into the cake. The crowd gasped.
I heard my mom’s sharp intake of breath, someone’s nervous giggle, and the scrape of chairs as people shifted uncomfortably.
And just like that, my beautiful veil was ruined. Buttercream frosting covered my face, my hair, and the bodice of my dress. My carefully applied makeup was completely destroyed. I stood there feeling completely humiliated.
A lump formed in my throat, and I felt like I might burst into tears right there in front of everyone. The shame was overwhelming. Ed had turned our perfect day into a joke. What’s worse was that Ed was laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. He reached over and swiped a glob of frosting from my cheek, then licked his finger.
“Mmm,”
he said loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“Sweet.”
That’s when I saw movement in my peripheral vision. Ryan had suddenly pushed back his chair and stood up, his jaw tight with anger. Ryan strode across the dance floor in just a few quick steps.
Before Ed could even react, my brother grabbed him by the back of the head and shoved his face straight down into what was left of the wedding cake.
But Ryan didn’t stop there. He pressed Ed’s face deep into the cake, grinding it in until every inch of Ed’s face, hair, and expensive tuxedo was covered in buttercream and crumbs. I stood frozen, utterly shocked by what I was seeing.
“This is the worst ‘joke’ you could have come up with,”
Ryan said loudly.
“You humiliated your new wife in front of her family and friends on one of the most important days of her life.”
Ed was sputtering, trying to wipe cake from his eyes and mouth. Frosting dripped from his hair onto his ruined tuxedo jacket. But Ryan wasn’t finished. He looked down at Ed with disgust.
“Does it feel good now? Having your own face shoved in cake? Because that’s exactly how you just made Lily feel.”
Then Ryan turned to me, his expression softening when he saw my face.
“Lily,”
he said quietly,
“think carefully if you really want to spend the rest of your life with someone who shows zero respect for you or our family.”
Ed finally managed to stand up straight, cake still clinging to his suit. His face was red, either from embarrassment or anger. I couldn’t really tell.
“You ruined the wedding for your sister,”
he muttered, pointing an accusing finger at Ryan.
That was it. Without another word, Ed stormed toward the exit, leaving a trail of cake crumbs behind him. The heavy doors slammed shut, and he was gone. Ryan immediately came to my side.
“Come on,”
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