๐ฅ๐๐ฐ โ๐๐ก๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ซ๐๐ฐ ๐ ๐๐๐ค๐ ๐๐ญ ๐ ๐ฐ๐จ๐ฆ๐๐ง ๐๐ญ ๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ฏ๐ข๐ฌ๐ก ๐ฐ๐๐๐๐ข๐ง๐ โฆ ๐๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐จ๐จ๐ค๐๐ ๐๐ญ ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฐ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐๐, โ๐๐ก๐๐ญโ๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ซโ โ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฐ๐ก๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐จ๐ฆ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฌ๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ข๐ง ๐ก๐จ๐ซ๐ซ๐จ๐ซ.โ
CHAPTER 1 โ THE WOMAN IN THE GREEN DRESS WHO SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN THERE
The wedding hall looked like a dream built out of money.
Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen stars above a sea of polished marble. White floral arrangements lined every aisle, perfectly arranged, perfectly expensive, perfectly meaningless.
Every guest wore a smile that didnโt belong to them.
Because in rooms like thisโฆ
no one is honest.
Only well-dressed.
The bride stood at the center of it all.
Blonde hair pulled into an elegant updo so tight it looked like control itself had been styled into her scalp. Her strapless white gown shimmered under the lights, every pearl earring catching reflections like tiny judgments.
She was the kind of beautiful that didnโt ask permission.
It demanded attention.
And she knew it.
But what the guests didnโt see was the tension in her fingers.
The subtle tightening of her jaw.
The way her eyes kept scanning the room like she was waiting for something to go wrong.
Or someone.
Then the doors opened.
And the entire atmosphere changed.
A woman stepped inside.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not loudly.
But in a way that made silence feel heavier.
Black hair tied back neatly.
Emerald green satin dress that should have looked elegantโฆ
but didnโt.
Because it was ruined.
Chocolate cake smeared across her chest.
White cream streaked along her collarbone and cheek.
Like humiliation had been poured onto her and left to dry.
She didnโt try to fix it.
Didnโt wipe it away.
Didnโt lower her head.
She walked like someone who had already accepted what people would think of her.
And no longer cared.
The bride noticed her instantly.
Her expression changed.
A flicker of recognition.
Then irritation.
Then something colder.
Disgust.
She turned slightly toward the catering table, picked up a piece of chocolate cake without hesitation, and stepped forward.
The guests didnโt stop her.
No one ever stops someone at a wedding like this.
Because everyone assumes itโs part of the performance.
Until it isnโt.
The bride stopped directly in front of the woman in green.
Their contrast was almost cruel.
White perfection versus stained reality.
Then she spoke.
Cold.
Controlled.
โYou donโt belong here.โ
The woman didnโt respond.
Not immediately.
She simply looked at her.
And in that lookโฆ
there was something unsettling.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
But recognition.
Like she had heard that sentence before.
In another life.
The brideโs hand tightened around the cake.
And in one sudden motionโ
she shoved it forward.
The impact was soft.
But the effect was not.
Chocolate and cream exploded across the womanโs already stained dress, spreading across her chest and neck, dripping onto the floor.
A few guests gasped.
One phone lifted slightly.
But no one intervened.
The woman staggered half a step.
Then stopped.
Completely still.
No anger.
No retaliation.
Just silence.
Too controlled.
Too unnatural.
Like pain had already been experienced beforeโฆ
and this version was just a repeat.
The bride stepped back, breathing slightly heavier now.
Satisfied.
Or pretending to be.
Thenโ
a voice broke through the tension.
โStop.โ
The groom.
Black suit.
Sleek hair.
Controlled shock in his expression as he stepped between them.
He grabbed the brideโs arm firmly.
Not aggressively.
But decisively.
โWhat did you just do?โ he asked, voice low.
The bride blinked.
Like she wasnโt used to being questioned.
โIโsheโshe doesnโt belong here,โ she said quickly.
But the groom wasnโt looking at her anymore.
His eyes had moved.
To the woman in green.
And something changed.
His expression shifted.
Confusion.
Then disbelief.
Then something deeper.
Something that made his breath stop halfway.
He let go of the brideโs arm.
Slowly.
Like gravity had changed direction.
The room felt it too.
The silence deepened.
The woman in green lifted her head slightly.
Chocolate still dripping.
Eyes steady.
Not broken.
Not afraid.
Just waiting.
The groom stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
His voice dropped into something almost unrecognizable.
โโฆMom?โ
The word didnโt belong in this room.
It didnโt belong in this moment.
It didnโt belong in reality as everyone understood it.
The bride froze.
The guests froze.
Even the air seemed to hesitate.
The woman in green didnโt react immediately.
But something in her expression softened.
Just slightly.
May you like
Like recognition finally had permission to exist.
And that was when everything began to collapse.
