Best Man, Best Choice
At my own wedding, the groom switched—Malcolm Lowell bailed, and the best man stepped in.
Lumi, the Irving's real daughter, latched onto Malcolm's arm and smirked from the crowd.
"I was just feeling a little low," she said. "Didn't think Malcolm would go this far for me."
Malcolm raised a brow. "I just wanted to make her happy. You took her spot for years. Time to pay it back. This is for your own good."
That's when it hit me—this whole wedding was a setup, a twisted show just to entertain Lumi.
All because I was the adopted one. I'd lived in her place for over two decades.
I didn't cry. Didn't freak out. I just took the new groom's hand, faced the priest, and said, "Keep going."