Chapter 1

Only 24 hours to go before my wedding, and I was dead set on making my groom crash and burn in front of everyone on his big day.

I'd invited every single one of his exes, his flings, and every girl he'd ever secretly dated. Not a single one was left out.

When it came time to exchange rings, I'd grab the microphone and, right in front of all our friends and family, expose every lie and betrayal he'd pulled over the past seven years.

I was going to lay out every single chat log, every bank transfer receipt, line by line, for everyone to see.

Then I'd print it all out, stuff it into every wedding favor, and make sure his dirty secrets were witnessed by everyone.

And finally, I'd hold my head high and walk out of that rotten hall with pride.

This wasn't some circus. It was the classiest send-off I could give to this messed-up love.

I was waiting for tomorrow, ready to settle everything in one showdown.

*****

Eight hours after I sent out that announcement to everyone, Ryan Mitchell's groomsmen finally knocked on my door.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, dressed in my wedding gown.

The makeup artist was a total pro.

Even though I'd spent the whole night crying, soaking the pillow in my five-star hotel room, after a few strokes from the makeup artist, all the evidence of last night's breakdown was gone.

After sending out that announcement, I'd been curled up on the floor, clutching my phone, sobbing so hard my eyes were red and swollen, looking absolutely pitiful.

My maid of honor was my best friend, and I'd already given her a heads-up. Today, there were no silly games or rituals.

So as soon as the knock sounded, she opened the door for me.

A whole crowd of people poured in. Eighteen groomsmen made such a scene that the room was instantly packed, with barely any space left to stand.

But of all people, the groom, the guy I was supposed to marry, was nowhere to be seen.

The head groomsman, looking excited, said to me, "Melora, Ryan's wedding car got into a minor accident on the way. He asked me to come pick you up first, and he'll meet you at the hall later."

As soon as he finished, another one of Ryan's buddies, Ethan Brooks, jumped in. "Yeah, Melora, don't worry. Even if Ryan's not here, we'll make sure the whole wedding pickup is a blast."

With that, he unzipped his black backpack and started passing out small gifts. But after handing out two, he realized the only people in the room were a bridesmaid and the makeup artist.

He stared at the pile of gifts in his hands, looking a bit lost. "Melora, didn't Ryan promise you the most perfect wedding? Weren't there supposed to be 18 groomsmen and 18 bridesmaids? Where is everyone else?"

I didn't bother to answer. I kept my cool as I walked over and took every single gift he was holding. I even grabbed the black backpack right out of his hands and stuffed it into my bestie's arms.

Where did the other 17 bridesmaids go? Obviously, they were busy printing out all those steamy chat logs between Ryan and his latest fling.

They were making sure the video of those bedroom pics was ready to play at the reception. And some were out there making sure all of Ryan's exes got a proper welcome.

After all, Ryan had called me in the middle of the night. He told me he had something big and mysterious for me.

I thought it was some pre-wedding romance he'd planned. But when I followed the address he gave me and found Ryan's car, what I saw made my blood boil.

Ryan was inside, locked in a heated embrace with some woman.

I banged on the car door, furious.

But Ryan didn't even rush. He finished what he was doing, pulled on his pants, and buttoned up his shirt all wrong, not caring one bit.

With hickeys all over his neck and collarbone, he finally swung the car door open and stepped out as if nothing had happened.

Before I could say a word, he lit up a cigarette and, totally unfazed, came clean to me without a hint of shame. "Melora, I wanted you to find out on purpose.

"I don't want to keep sneaking around with her after we get married. I want things out in the open between us. I've been with that woman in the car since high school. You're actually the other woman here.

"But hey, my mom likes you, so relax. We've already got the marriage license, so whether you're the other woman or not, you're stuck with me for life.

"But I hope you can be a bit more tolerant from now on. Don't cause drama after we're married and make us a laughingstock. That's why I wanted to tell you before the wedding."

He said all this like he was talking about the weather, totally calm, with not a hint of emotion.

Even when he saw my ghastly pale face, he still casually blew a smoke ring right at me.

So last night, on the eve of our wedding, he handed me a "gift" I'll never forget.

Today, if I didn't return the favor by giving him a "gift" of my own at our wedding, how could I ever make peace with the countless days and nights I'd spent loving him?