Chapter 4

On the day of the wedding, I arrived at the hotel as planned.

As the stylist adjusted my tuxedo, she smiled and said, "Mr. Clark, you look so handsome today."

I looked at myself in the mirror. I really did look like a groom eagerly waiting to marry the love of his life.

But only I knew the truth. Today's wedding wasn't about me marrying Avery. It was about giving her and Tyler a gift they would never forget.

As the stylist picked up my tie, her movements suddenly paused. "Mr. Clark, this tie…"

I glanced over. A corner of the tie was wrinkled, and there was a faint lipstick stain on it.

My fingers clenched instantly. This tie had been painstakingly sewn by my mother before she died.

Back then, her illness had already left her deathly thin. Her hands trembled so badly that she could barely hold a needle. Yet, she had spent an entire month propped up in her hospital bed, stitching intricate patterns and delicate silver threads into the inside lining.

She had told me, "I probably won't be able to see you get married, Logan. So, let this tie walk you down the aisle in my place. When you wear it, pretend I'm holding your hand."

After Mom passed away, I kept this tie carefully stored in a box, rarely ever touching it. Before the wedding, I'd delivered it to the hotel myself and repeatedly reminded the staff to keep it separate from everything else.

Yet, now, it was wrinkled and stained with someone's lipstick.

The stylist looked uncomfortable. She asked, "Would you like me to clean it up for you?"

I stared at the vividly red stain. After a long time passed, I gently shook my head. "No. Just leave it."

Avery pushed the door open and walked in. Wearing a white wedding dress, she looked beautiful and elegant, her expression soft and gentle.

If I hadn't already seen the truth, my heart probably would've skipped a beat.

She stopped behind me and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

"Logan, you look so handsome today."

She reached out and adjusted my tie. Then, she cupped my face and kissed me. The moment our breaths intertwined, my vision went black.

I saw a lounge. Tyler was leaning against a dressing table. His shirt was crumpled, and there was a trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. My tie hung loosely around his neck.

Avery stood in front of him, head lowered, adjusting his collar.

"Avery, have you lost your mind?" Tyler's voice was low. "In an hour, you'll be marrying Logan."

Avery looked at him. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "That's why this is the last time."

Tyler fell silent for a moment before saying, "You say that every time. But every time you see me, you can't help yourself."

Avery didn't argue. Instead, she hurriedly undid his belt.

As they moved closer together, she yanked the tie from his neck and casually tossed it onto the couch. It snagged on one of Tyler's shirt buttons, and a strand of silver thread came loose.

I froze in place. In that instant, it felt like my whole world came crashing down.

They both knew clearly that my mother had sewn that tie for me before she died. The day she passed away, both Avery and Tyler had stood beside her hospital bed.

Mom had been so weak and frail. Yet, she still took Avery's hand and pleaded repeatedly, "I won't be there to see Logan get married. You have to love him for me."

Avery had nodded solemnly. "Don't worry, Mrs. Clark. I'll never let Logan be hurt."

Tyler had stood beside her, his voice hoarse. "Mrs. Clark, don't worry. I'll always be there for Logan. On his wedding day, I'll watch over him for you."

And now, one was my bride, and the other was my best friend. Right before the wedding began, they had used the tie Mom had given me, wrinkled it, stained it, and done something so revolting.

The vision ended there.

Back in reality, Avery was still straightening my tie when a knock came from outside the room.

The master of ceremonies came in and said, "Ms. Goodwin, Mr. Clark, the ceremony is about to begin."

Avery held out her hand. "Let's go."

I looked at her outstretched hand—long fingers, clean and elegant. That same hand had once changed cold compresses on my forehead all night when I had a fever. But now, that hand had also smoothed the wrinkles from Tyler's shirt.

She had taken every ounce of sincerity I ever gave her and crushed it into a joke.

I placed my hand in hers, and she led me outside.

The doors of the ballroom slowly opened. On the stage, the MC smiled and announced, "Before the official ceremony begins, the groom has requested an additional vow-reading segment. Let's hear what he would like to say to the bride."

Avery turned toward me, surprise flashing in her eyes. "When did you add that?"

I replied with a smile, "Last night." Then, I pulled a sheet of paper from the inside pocket of my jacket.

In the front row of the audience seats, Tyler sat, watching me calmly. He probably believed the wedding would proceed exactly the way they had planned.

But neither of them knew that the vows I had prepared contained far more than words of love. They contained everything I needed to destroy them.

Under the gaze of Avery's family and friends, I slowly began to speak. "I'd like to thank Avery Goodwin and my best friend, Tyler Reed."