Chapter 3: The Wedding I No Longer Wanted

By the time I got home, my fever was so high I was drifting in and out of consciousness.

I didn't know how much time had passed before Hudson strode into the house.

He saw me curled up on the sofa, and his expression instantly changed.

"Briar?"

He pressed a hand to my forehead and quickly dug out a thermometer.

One hundred and two point five degrees.

"I told you to text me. Why didn't you answer?"

"I dropped everyone off and drove all the way back to the airport to look for you."

His tone was laced with suppressed anger, but his hands were incredibly gentle.

He dried my hair with a towel and knelt by the sofa to disinfect the ruptured blisters on my heels.

The alcohol stung the raw skin. I flinched.

Hudson stopped immediately.

"Tell me if it hurts."

"They took the joke a bit too far today."

"I already called the planner. They'll set up everything again next week."

"Just rest up for the next few days. I'll handle the rest."

I stared at the man tending to my wounds.

A memory from college flashed through my mind.

I had caught a terrible fever during a storm back then, too.

Hudson had carried me on his back for nearly two miles to get me to the hospital. He stayed by my bed the entire night.

The next day, Tatum teased him with a grin.

"She got that sick from a little rain? Briar's probably just playing the victim so you'll spend time with her."

Hudson's face had darkened instantly.

"She's burning up at a hundred and two degrees. You think that's funny?"

"Don't ever joke about her health again. I won't tolerate it."

Then he had tucked me in and murmured, asking if I was still in pain.

Back then, he wouldn't even let Tatum make a passing comment about my wellbeing.

Now, he personally served my suffering up on a silver platter for everyone to laugh at.

My phone buzzed against the cushions.

Tatum had uploaded a new video.

[Pranked the bride three times on her wedding day! She fell for it every single time!]

The clip started with me sitting alone in my house, waiting for the makeup artist.

Then it showed me rushing into the empty hotel with my dress and running frantically through the airport terminals.

The final shot was the blood draining from my face when Tatum announced she was pregnant.

They had people secretly filming me since five in the morning.

My panic, my fear, my absolute humiliation. It was all prime content carefully orchestrated by Tatum.

In less than half an hour, the video had over a hundred thousand likes.

The comment section was a sea of laughing emojis.

[This bride is way too gullible! How does she believe everything?]

[If you can't take a joke, don't hang out with fun people. That look on her face at the end was like she just died.]

[The groom and Tatum are a much better match. One is fun, the other actually has a sense of humor.]

Just minutes ago, I had received a notification from work.

Because my name and company were visible in the viral video, the client demanded a change in leadership.

The project I had poured three years of my life into was suspended indefinitely.

I hurled the phone violently at Hudson.

"Make her delete it!"

His face fell. He dialed Tatum's number right away.

Tatum's muffled sobs came through the speaker.

"I didn't think people would attack Briar."

"But a brand already sponsored this video. If I take it down now, I have to pay fifty thousand dollars in penalty fees. The algorithm will shadowban my account forever."

Hudson gripped the phone. He didn't speak for a long time.

Finally, he sighed.

"Leave it up for now. I'll talk to Briar."

The anger I had choked down all day finally erupted.

"It already cost me my job! What is there to talk about?"

"My wedding, my family, you. I let her have all of it. Now you want to use the only career I have left to pave the way for her?"

Hudson cut me off with an impatient scowl.

"You can always find another job."

"You keep blaming us for favoring her. Why don't you look in the mirror? Have you ever wondered why everyone loves Tatum, but nobody wants to be around you?"

"It's because she's actually pleasant to be around. You can never take a joke. You turn every minor inconvenience into a massive headache for everyone."

He tapped his screen and left a public comment under the video.

[Briar Ellis isn't mad. We are doing great. Please don't send hate to Tatum.]

One single sentence.

He wiped her malice clean and publicly forgave her on my behalf.

I smacked the phone out of his hand.

"Get out."

Hudson stared at me in shock. His eyes turned ice-cold.

"Briar Ellis, you're kicking me out over something this trivial?"

He snatched his jacket and stormed toward the door.

Right before he left, he set the fever reducers and a glass of warm water on the table.

"Take your meds. This will all blow over by tomorrow."

The door slammed shut.

He still remembered to care for my physical body.

But he didn't give a damn about my dignity. He didn't care how long it would take me to glue my shattered pride back together.

He was willing to brave a hurricane to find me at the airport.

But he wasn't willing to make Tatum delete a viral video built entirely on my pain.

Once I was alone, I pulled my suitcase down from the top of the closet.

I tossed my passport and my rebooked plane ticket inside.

Hudson said everything would be in the past by tomorrow.

He was right.

He, and the last seven years of my life, were about to become history.