1 It was time for the groom to kiss the bride. I closed my eyes and leaned in toward my wife, Isabella, only to get a mouthful of fur. Her little assistant, Leo, was holding a camera, roaring with laughter. “The great Bronson Cross can’t even tell if he’s kissing his bride or a beast!” I stared at the panting husky in front of me, a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. I was about to go after Leo when Isabella stopped me. “It was just a joke, Bronson. Don't be so sensitive!” Leo’s face was flush with triumph, his tone dripping with arrogance. “She’s a bitch, too, Mr. Cross. Why don’t you just take her home and make her your wife? It’s not like you deserve my Bella anyway.” A wave of snickering rippled through our employees. That was it. I’d had enough. I sent him flying with a single, hard kick. The next second, a wine bottle shattered over my head. Isabella stood over me, demanding I get on my knees and apologize. I wiped a sticky mixture of wine and blood from my face and, with a cold smile, made an overseas call. “The wedding’s short one bride. You in?” I’d put all my strength into that kick. Leo’s face had turned a sickly green from the pain. The employees who had been laughing along with him fell silent, their eyes wide with shock. Everyone knew Leo was the apple of Isabella’s eye. To cross Leo was to cross Isabella. And I was, for all intents and purposes, Isabella’s number one doormat. Clutching his chest, Leo glared at me. “Can’t you take a joke? God, you’re so dramatic!” Then, turning to Isabella, his voice cracked. “Bella, my chest… it hurts. I think he broke a rib!” Instantly, two security guards had my arms pinned behind my back. Isabella, in her sharp stilettos, drove her heel into my stomach. She’d spent over a decade as a ballerina; the power in her legs was devastating. A bolt of agony shot through me. My face went pale, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Isabella didn’t even seem to notice. Her eyes were fixed on me, filled with rage, as if I were her mortal enemy, not her husband. “Have you lost your mind, Bronson?” she hissed. “Leo was just trying to liven things up! It was a good-natured prank. You could have just swallowed a little dog fur and thanked him for the thought!” An itching sensation began to creep across my back. I looked at her, my eyes red-rimmed. “You know I’m allergic to dogs, Isabella.” She was unmoved. “So what? It’s not like an allergy is going to kill you. Stop being so pathetic and apologize to Leo. Now. Or don't even think about me signing that marriage license.” Her words felt like a thousand icy needles piercing my heart, stealing the air from my lungs. In her world, my health, my well-being, meant less than a smirk on Leo’s face. Leo shot me a triumphant glance, then put on a mask of remorse. “Bella, I’m the one who should apologize. I didn't mean to ruin your wedding. I just… I had no idea Mr. Cross was so sensitive.” He raised a hand dramatically. “Mr. Cross, I’m so sorry. If you’re still not satisfied, I’ll slap myself!” He actually made to do it, but Isabella caught his wrist just before the blow landed, her eyes filled with pain, for him. “What are you doing? It’s not your fault! If anyone should be slapping themselves, it’s not you!” She turned her gaze to me, her expression hardening from tender to vicious. “You’re going to slap yourself, right now, as an apology to Leo.” Fighting the allergic reaction crawling up my skin, I stared at her, my eyes bloodshot. “Isabella, have you forgotten? I almost ended up in the ICU saving you from a rabid dog once! And now, at our wedding, you let your assistant humiliate me with one. Doesn't your conscience ache at all?” For a fleeting moment, a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. Leo saw it too and immediately doubled down on his performance. “My chest… oh god, it hurts so much! I can’t breathe! Bella, am I dying?” That was all it took. Her momentary doubt vanished, replaced by cold fury. “I know you’ve always been jealous of Leo, Bronson. That’s why you hit him so hard. But why did you have to make a scene at our wedding? Were you trying to humiliate me?” “Now, get on your knees and apologize to him!” I let out a short, cold laugh. Then, I strode over to Leo and slapped him across the face, hard. “Is that sincere enough for you?” “Bronson! You’re dead!” The next thing I knew, four security guards tackled me, forcing me to the ground. There, in front of everyone, I was made to kneel like a dog before Leo. He took a bottle of champagne and leisurely poured the entire thing over my head. Isabella didn’t stop him. Instead, she took the empty bottle and smashed it against my skull. Sharp, blinding pain exploded through me. Her voice, cold as ice, whispered in my ear. “The wedding is off. When you’re ready to kneel before Leo like the dog you are and beg for his forgiveness, we’ll talk about getting married again.” With that, she took Leo’s arm and turned to leave. My eyes burned into their retreating backs. “Isabella,” I called out, my voice dangerously calm. “If you care that much about your little assistant, then you don’t deserve to be my wife.” She stopped. Leo’s eyes welled up with fake tears. “Bella, did I cause trouble again? I shouldn’t have come today,” he whimpered. “You should go back and finish the ceremony with Mr. Cross. I’ll be fine on my own.” The performance was pathetic, but it melted Isabella’s heart. She spun around, her eyes filled with disgust for me. “What is this, Bronson? Another one of your pathetic games to get my attention?” she sneered. “Fine! If you don’t think I’m worthy of being your wife, then go marry that husky. She’s a bitch, too!” And with that, she and Leo left without a backward glance. The guests stared, their expressions a mix of pity and scorn. I clenched my fists, swallowing the bitter pill of humiliation. “I apologize to everyone,” I announced to the room. “Today’s wedding is canceled. Please, enjoy the rest of your day.” The moment I closed the door to the dressing room, the world went black. When I woke, the sharp, clean scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils. The hospital room was warm, but it couldn't thaw the ice that had formed around my heart. I had loved Isabella for ten years. A decade of devotion. Until yesterday, I truly believed I was finally getting my happy ending. But our wedding, that disaster, was the slap in the face I needed to wake up. It was the moment my love for her finally died. I pressed the call button. It wasn't a nurse who entered, but Isabella. She was still in the sleek evening dress she’d worn for the reception, but her hair was a mess, her lips swollen and bruised, and a series of fresh, angry-red marks dotted her neck. She seemed relieved to see I was conscious, but the relief quickly soured into annoyance. “You don’t look so bad. Leo was right. Just another one of your little pity parties,” she said, crossing her arms. “Honestly, Bronson, for a grown man, you are so incredibly petty. You ruined a perfectly good wedding.” She sighed impatiently. “So, have you learned your lesson? Are you ready to go apologize to Leo?” I just stared at her, my silence a wall. Before, I would have swallowed my pride just to appease her. God knows I’d done it enough times. The time Leo “accidentally” smashed my birthday cake in front of everyone, I had to apologize. The time he deleted the proposal I’d spent sleepless nights perfecting, I had to apologize. Even the time I was in the hospital and he tripped on the steps outside, I had to apologize. Every concession, every retreat, had earned me nothing but her accusation of being "petty." Six months ago, a fire broke out in the conference room because Leo had carelessly tossed a cigarette butt. As we escaped, a flaming beam started to fall. Isabella shoved me into its path, using my body to shield Leo so he could get out first. He walked away without a scratch. My back was covered in severe burns. While I lay in a hospital bed, groaning in agony, she took Leo on a trip to "calm his nerves." She only showed up on the day I was discharged, a month later. The first words out of her mouth were: “You embarrassed Leo in that meeting, you know. That’s why he was so upset he had to smoke in the conference room. He’s been having nightmares for a month because of it. Why don’t you go apologize to him? If you do, we can get married. How about that?” For the sake of love, I compromised. Again. But from that moment, the love I had for her began to wither. And at our wedding, when she chose to walk away with him, it vanished completely. Seeing that I wasn't going to speak, Isabella spat a few more venomous words and stormed out. After the doctor left, I picked up my phone, planning to hire a private nurse. That's when I saw Leo’s latest post. He’d taken the husky to the new house I’d bought, our marital home. He had filmed it shitting and pissing all over our new bed. In the video, he grinned into the camera. “Heard this is a good cure for your allergy, Mr. Cross. Don’t thank me!” Rage, hot and blinding, surged through me. I called Isabella again and again. Finally, just as my battery was about to die, she picked up. Her voice was impatient. “What? You regret it? Ready to apologize to Leo?” “Apologize to your mother!” I snarled, the profanity slipping out before I could stop it. “Did you take Leo to my house? That’s breaking and entering! Vandalism! I can have you both arrested!” There was a stunned silence, then her voice came back, sharp as a whip. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Bronson? Don’t get cocky with me! You said that house was a gift, so it’s mine! Besides, you hurt Leo. He was just blowing off a little steam. He’s being merciful, so you can stop playing the victim!” She took a breath. “I was actually thinking of giving you another chance, of going to sign the papers. But since you’re so unrepentant, I’ve decided I’ll sign them with Leo instead.” As soon as she finished, I could hear Leo’s excited voice in the background. “Really? Bella, if you say that, I might just take you seriously!” “I am serious. Let’s go right now.” “Wow, so tonight would be our wedding night? In that case, maybe we should take care of the important stuff first, then go get the license. Come here, wife…” The sound that followed was a series of moist, sickening noises. My hand holding the phone trembled. Those two disgusting creatures, doing that in my house. The first thing I would do when I got out of here was sell that place. Just then, another call came through. It was the resort for our honeymoon. “Mr. Cross? Calling to confirm your reservation for the honeymoon suite.” I took a deep breath. “Cancel it,” I said without hesitation. “It’s not needed anymore.” But then, an idea sparked. “Wait,” I said quickly. “Don’t cancel. Postpone it for a week. And one more thing… could you fill the suite with red roses? Thank you.” Three days later, I was discharged. I had already contacted a real estate agent and was heading to the house to pack up a few things. I pushed the door open to find Leo, wrapped in a towel, stepping out of the master bathroom. His bare torso was a roadmap of fresh scratches and love bites. He jumped when he saw me, but his shock quickly morphed into a smug grin. Before I could say a word, Isabella emerged from the same bathroom, also wrapped in a towel. “Leo, you were incredible just now, I…” Her words died in her throat when she saw me. “You’re back,” she said, her tone stiff. When she saw my cold stare, she launched into a ridiculously transparent lie. “The pipes were broken. Leo came over to help me fix them. He got his clothes wet, so I let him take a shower.” Leo smirked at me. “That’s right. Just fixing the pipes. There was so much water, it sprayed all over me.” My fists clenched. I wanted to lunge at him. Isabella moved fast, stepping between us and grabbing a baseball bat from the corner. “Are you crazy, Bronson? Just out of the hospital and you’re already starting trouble?” she warned, pointing the bat at me. “I haven’t even dealt with you for what happened before! If you so much as touch a hair on his head, I promise you’ll be right back in that hospital bed.” The scene felt sickeningly familiar. Ten years ago, she had defended me just as fiercely, throwing herself in front of me. That was what made me fall for her so completely. Ten years later, she was protecting someone else from me. In that moment, I just felt… tired. It was all so meaningless. “This is my house,” I said, my voice flat. “I want you both out. Now.” Without another glance at them, I walked into the master bedroom. The husky-soiled sheets were gone, replaced. But so was our wedding portrait that had hung above the bed. In its place were dozens of photos of her and Leo, some so explicit they made my stomach turn. The floor by the bed was littered with more than a dozen used condoms. Isabella followed me in. Seeing me stare at the photos, she looked momentarily flustered. After a few awkward coughs, she softened her voice. “I just… I Photoshopped those to punish you. They’re not real.” She tried a conciliatory tone. “Look, if you admit you were wrong and promise it won’t happen again, I’ll put our wedding photo back up.” I looked at her face, still beautiful, but it no longer stirred anything in me. “Don’t bother,” I said coolly. “If it was taken down, it must be trash. Just throw it away.” She opened her mouth to argue, but just then, Leo walked in holding a bowl of a thick, creamy substance. “Mr. Cross, what Bella said on the phone about marrying me… she was just saying that to make you jealous. Don’t take it the wrong way,” he said with a syrupy smile. “To show there are no hard feelings, I made you some peanut butter porridge. Here, try some.” He held the bowl out to me. When I didn't take it, Isabella’s voice turned sharp. “Leo was kind enough to make that for you and bring it to you personally. Who do you think you are, putting on that face?” Leo feigned sadness. “I guess Mr. Cross doesn’t want to make peace with me.” I let out a small laugh and took the bowl from him. Isabella nodded, satisfied. “That’s more like it.” A rare smile touched her lips. “Since you’re being so reasonable, I’ve decided we can have the wedding again this weekend.” She paused. “But, there’s one condition. I want Leo to stand in for you during the first part of the ceremony.” Without a second of hesitation, I nodded. “Okay.” This time, it was Isabella who was stunned. After a moment, she asked, her voice laced with suspicion, “You… you just agreed? Just like that? You’ve always hated it when I get too close to Leo.” My voice was placid. “I agreed because it’s what you want.” For the first time in a long time, she gave me a genuine smile. Leo clapped me on the shoulder. “Finally, Mr. Cross understands Bella! Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure this wedding goes off without a hitch!” He winked. “Oh, and I have a very special wedding gift for you.” Meeting his smug gaze, I tilted the bowl in my hand, pouring the peanut porridge into the trash can beside me. I looked back at him, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I’ll have a surprise for you both as well. You won’t want to miss it.”
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