The Wedding Wrecker

Prologue - James

PROLOGUE - JAMES

My wife looked stunning in her white wedding dress as she moved across the reception hall. Occasionally, she stopped to mingle, give a soft smile, or say something that made people laugh.

My wife.

"Strange, isn't it?" my best friend, Derek, said.

"What's that?" I asked, eyes still locked on Katie as I tried to memorize the way she moved tonight. She noticed me looking, tucked a hair behind her ear, and winked before turning back to our guests.

Logan shifted in his chair, his dark eyes clouded as he considered his next words. "Forever. That's the idea, right? But can you really love one person forever? People change all the time. What happens if you two change in different directions?"

I gave him a soft punch on the arm. "Save it. It's my wedding night. I'm planning to enjoy forever, not sit around wondering how it'll go."

"Right. You're right," he said, but there was something in his eyes I didn't particularly like.

I licked my lips, considered asking him, and then let the topic drop as I got up to circulate around the room with my drink in hand.

"Another scotch?" The bartender held up the bottle as I passed.

I shook my head, raising my still-full glass. "Thanks. Trying to remember this night."

He smiled knowingly. "First day of the rest of your life, right?"

"Something like that."

What was it with people saying that like it was a prison sentence instead of something to celebrate?

My brother Chase clapped a hand on my shoulder, nearly making me spill my drink. "There's the man of the hour." His words were slightly slurred. "Did I mention how honored I am to be your best man?"

"Only about fifty times." I smiled, used to Chase's drunken affection. He'd always been the emotional one between us.

He stumbled slightly and caught himself on my shoulder. “Dude. Did I show you the fish I caught last weekend?”

“You told me about it,” I said, grinning. Chase was an obsessive fisherman, and always had some new trophy to brag about.

“Forty pounds,” he said, opening his phone and fumbling for his camera roll. I was watching the screen as a text popped up.

A text from my wife.

On my brother’s phone.

Only an hour after we said our vows.

I leaned forward as the world shrank in around me.

Chase’s eyebrows rose, and he drunkenly tried to swipe it away. Instead, he tapped the message and opened it for both of us to see.

I saw Katie in what looked like a bathroom stall. She had her tongue out, almost casually. She was winking at the camera and she had her wedding dress pulled down so one of her breasts was in plain view. My blurring eyes drifted to the message below.

Katie: Your turn. You look hot in that tux, so send me something for later.

Everything suddenly felt too tight. My tie. My suit. The air pressing in around me and the laughing, dancing people.

I blinked through a suffocating tangle of emotions just as I saw Katie come walking out of the bathroom hallway. She gave her dress a little tug, as if readjusting it, spotted me, and blew me a kiss.

I felt numb as I looked at my brother, eyebrows drawn together. I realized I was waiting for him to explain, as if there was any possible way to explain what I’d just seen on his phone.

His face was pale. “James?—”

"How long?" My voice sounded strange, distant.

He swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair—a nervous habit we both shared. “I’m sorry, James, I?—”

“How long?” I asked again. Numbness was starting to be tinged with rage.

"Eight months, maybe?"

Eight months. They'd been sleeping together while she helped me pick out wedding bands. While she wrote her vows. While she promised forever.

"Is she..." I had to force the words out. "Is she with anyone else?"

His silence was answer enough.

I laughed then, a sound that held no humor. "Who else?"

"Come on, man... Do you really want to know?"

"Who else, Chase?"

He told me three names. All friends. All people who'd been at my wedding, smiling and congratulating me while knowing exactly what kind of woman I'd just pledged my life to.

"You deserve this," I said simply before punching him across the jaw hard enough to knock him on his ass. "If I see your face again tonight, I'll punch it again. In fact, consider that a running promise. Show me your face, and you're going to get knocked on your ass. Forever."

People gasped and backed away, giving us space. The general air of light conversation hushed in a moment.

"James, please," Chase said, touching his reddening jaw as he lay sprawled on the floor. "She said you wouldn't even care. She said you probably cheated on her, so it was?—"

I stopped in my tracks, turning to face him. "I never fucking cheated. I never would."

I walked toward Katie, moving through the crowd like a ghost. Everything looked different now. Faces that had seemed friendly hours ago now held secrets. Smiles that had seemed genuine now looked painted on.

In seconds, I moved through the people who had seen me punch Chase and entered back into the blissfully unaware—the ones who didn’t know this thing was already doomed.

Katie was by the cake, champagne flute in hand, laughing at something her maid of honor had said. She looked up as I approached, her smile faltering slightly.

"There you are! I was just about to?—"

"We need to talk."

She must have seen something in my face because she set down her glass and followed me without argument. I led her to a quiet corner, away from prying eyes.

"How many?" I asked simply.

"What?"

"How many men have you slept with while we were together?"

The color drained from her face. "James, I don't know what you?—"

"Don't." My voice cracked. "Don't lie to me. Not now. I already know, but I want to hear it from you. You owe me at least that much. How. Many."

She stared at me for a long moment, then lifted her chin. "Four."

"Including my brother?"

She flinched. "Who told you?"

"Does it matter?"

Katie's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry. I never meant to?—"

"To what? To fuck my brother? To fool around with half our friend group? To make me look like an absolute idiot in front of everyone we know?"

"Keep your voice down," she hissed.

I stepped closer. "Why? Worried what people might think? Worried they'll realize that while I was saying my vows, promising to love and cherish you forever, you were probably thinking about your next hookup?"

"It's not like that." She grabbed my arm. "I love you, James. I do. Things just... got complicated. I get nervous when you're away. You’re so handsome, and women always want you. I only do… that… because it helps me take my mind off the fear that you’re cheating.”

I jerked away from her. "Complicated," I repeated. "Right. For the record, I never laid a hand on anyone else while we were together. So let me uncomplicate things for you."

I turned and walked to the center of the dance floor and let out a sharp whistle for attention. The band stopped playing, confused. Three hundred pairs of eyes turned to me.

"I'd like to make a toast," I announced, grabbing a champagne flute from a nearby table. "To my beautiful bride, Katie. And to my brother Chase, who's been fucking her for eight months." I raised my glass. "Oh, and to Mike, Steve, and Zander. Thanks for making my wedding day so memorable. Have a great night, everybody."

I lowered my glass, considered it, and then smashed it on the floor.

The silence that followed was deafening.

I straightened my tie and walked out. Behind me, chaos erupted. People gasping, shouting, crying. Katie screaming my name.

I kept walking.

The worst part? I was stupid enough to try to make it work after that. For three months, I listened to her excuses, her promises that she'd changed. That it was just cold feet, that she'd been scared of committing. That she'd never do it again.

And like an idiot, I believed her. Right up until I found out she was still sleeping with my brother. But she had changed, she said. It was only with Chase, and since we were family, was it really so bad in the end?

My lawyer called the next day after I finally filed for divorce. Katie wanted half of everything.

"She already took half my family," I had told him. "Might as well take half my stuff too."

It took months to finalize the divorce. Months of lawyers and paperwork and well-meaning friends asking if I was okay. Months of watching other couples plan their perfect weddings or finding new love, knowing they might be heading for the same trap I'd fallen into.

It felt like something inside me died a little every day of it, and by the time it was final, I wasn’t the same James I’d been before. Maybe I still believed in silly things like love, but I knew better than to think a wedding could fix a relationship built on shaky ground.

That's when I decided it.

I sold my law firm and used the money to start a new business. A business that would allow me to help people from making the same mistake I made. If I did my job well, I could expose lies before they turned into legally binding vows. I could stop weddings that should never happen, and in the process, I could save men and women from getting destroyed the same way I had.

Some people said it was cynical and ridiculous. Others said worse things. But I was just a realist. Some weddings really shouldn’t happen, and I was the necessary evil in an industry built on blind fantasy.

I became the Wedding Wrecker, and I was damn good at my job.