I Died At Her Royal Wedding

Tonight, the rain was a relentless gray curtain over the city. I was finishing my shift, driving my Lyft XL, when I picked up a high-end fare from The Sovereignthe kind of exclusive members-only club where the initiation fee alone could buy a house. The destination, however, was a jarring contrast: a crumbling block in the East End, a place the locals called "The Sink," where the streetlights were mostly shadows and the air tasted like damp concrete.

A man, dressed in a suit that cost more than my car, helped a woman into the backseat. She was breathtaking, draped in silk and smelling of expensive gin and expensive secrets, her head lolling in a drunken haze.

I couldn't help but wonder what two people who belonged in a penthouse were doing heading toward the slums. I kept my voice neutral as I pulled away from the curb. "Rough neighborhood for a night out, isn't it?"

The man sighed, a sound of affectionate exasperation. He adjusted her head onto his shoulder. "Tell me about it. My wife... shes stubborn. Refuses to accept the family inheritance. Insists on 'making it on her own' in the trenches." He looked down at her, his eyes softening with a proprietary kind of love. "But the charade is almost over. Were having the official ceremony in two weeks. A real society wedding."

I managed a small, tight smile. "Congratulations. My wedding is in two weeks, too."

As we drove past the Montgomery Plazasthe two glass-and-steel monoliths that dominated the skylinethe man pointed a polished finger at them. "See those towers? Those belong to her family. The Montgomery Group."

I glanced up. Montgomery. It was the same last name as my fiance, Kat. A coincidence, I told myself. A common enough name in this circle.

"Baby, are we there yet?" the woman suddenly slurred.

The sound of her voice hit me like a physical blow. My heart didn't just skip a beat; it stopped. My grip tightened on the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

"Almost there, honey," the man whispered, brushing a stray hair from her face.

Then, she lifted her head. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror. For a second, the world outside the car vanished. The rain, the city, the engineeverything went silent.

Someone tell me. Someone explain how my fiancethe woman who was supposed to be pulling twelve-hour shifts on a dusty construction site to save up for our futurewas sitting in the back of my car, draped in the wealth of a dynasty.

Kats pupils contracted sharply. I saw the flash of pure, unadulterated panic in her eyes before she masked it.

I slammed on the brakes. The tires shrieked against the wet asphalt, the car fishtailing slightly before jerking to a halt.

"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?" the man shouted, bracing himself against the front seat. "Do you have any idea who is sitting back here? Learn how to drive or find a new job!"

I didn't answer him. I couldn't. I was staring at the woman in the mirror. She looked so elegant, so refineda stranger. There was no trace of the soot-stained, exhausted girl who used to come home to me, complaining about the physical toll of the site.

"Who is she?" my voice came out raw, a jagged edge of itself.

The man let out a sharp, condescending laugh. He leaned back, pulling Kat closer to his chest as if displaying a trophy. "The Montgomery Group. Ring a bell? My wife is the sole heir to the entire empire."

"Is that right?" I said, my gaze locked on Kat, refusing to let her look away. "Funny. I didn't know that."

Kat finally found her voice. The panic was gone, replaced by a cold, brittle composure. She reached out and wrapped her arms around the man, leaning into him.

"Sweetheart," she murmured to him, her voice smooth as velvet. "We don't need to explain ourselves to the help."

Then she looked at me. The warmth I had lived for over the last five years was gone. In its place was a sharp, clinical warning.

"Just drive, Leo. Don't ask questions that aren't yours to ask."

My blood turned to ice. The help.

This was the woman who, only this morning, had clung to me in our cramped kitchen, her eyes brimming with faux-guilt. Im so sorry you have to work so hard, Nate, shed whispered. I swear, Ill find a way to give us a better life. You won't have to break your back forever.

I had a thousand questions screaming in my throat. I wanted to ask if this was a mistake. I wanted to ask if this man was delusional. But under her icy, indifferent stare, the words felt like broken glass in my mouth.

I put the car back in gear and drove. The man, Tyler, didn't stop talking. He was drunk on his own ego, eager to narrate his fairy-tale life to a captive audience.

"You wouldn't believe it, man," Tyler chuckled, rubbing Kat's shoulder. "When we got our marriage license last year, Kat handed out thousand-dollar bonuses to everyone in the clerk's office. Just to hear them wish us a happy life. Cost her over fifty grand in five minutes."

He kissed her temple. "I love you, Kat. Why are you so good to me?"

Kat flicked a glance toward the front, then patted his cheek. "Hush now."

I felt the color drain from my face. My stomach dropped into a hollow pit.

Fifty-two thousand dollars.

Exactly six months ago, I had needed forty-eight thousand for the surgery to save my pinky finger after an accident on a freelance gig. We didn't have the money. I had to choose between the debt and the digit. I lost the finger.

It turns out, that was just pocket change to her. A tip for strangers.

During the days after the amputation, Kat had never left my side. She had cried as she watched the nurse change the bandages.

Im so sorry, Nate. Im so useless. I couldn't even find the money for your surgery. She had kissed my scarred hand, her eyes shining with what I thought was soul-deep sincerity. From now on, Ill be your hand. Ill carry everything for you.

What was that, then? A performance? An exercise in Method acting?

I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached, fighting the urge to drive the car off a bridge.

Tyler wasn't done. He gave a shy, boyish laugh. "And get thisshe proposed to me in a cathedral in Italy. She said it was the only place holy enough to hold her love for me."

A dull ache throbbed in my chest.

My dream wedding had always been a simple church ceremony. Id mentioned it once, years ago. Kat had brushed it off, saying she didn't believe in the performative nature of religion, that a church felt too cold, too restrictive.

I guess it wasn't the church she hated. It was the idea of being there with me. Shed already sworn her soul to another man before a cross.

Two hours later, we reached the outskirts of The Hollows.

"Finally," Tyler groaned. "Kat, when are you coming home for real? I hate having to sneak around these projects just to see you."

Kat opened the door, stepping out with a grace that didn't belong in the mud. "Not now, Tyler. Go on."

She turned back, flicked a hundred-dollar bill through the driver's side window onto my lap, and walked away without a word.

I stared at the bill. My fingers trembled as I picked it up. Then, my phone chimed. A text from Kat.

Stay in the car.

I watched them. I watched them walk into the buildinginto the apartment that I had spent three years paying for, the place we called our home. They walked in together, her arm draped intimately around his waist.

Minutes ticked by like slow-turning knives. Eventually, Tyler emerged. A black town car was waiting for him at the curb. He got in and disappeared into the night.

My phone buzzed again. Two words, cold and command-like:

Come up.

When I walked into the apartment, Kat was sitting on our secondhand sofa. She didn't look like a construction worker anymore. She looked like a queen surveying a peasant. She beckoned me with a flick of her wrist.

"Sit down, Nate. We need to talk."

I walked over, but I didn't sit. As I stood near her, I could smell itthe lingering scent of Tylers heavy cologne on her neck. It made my skin crawl.

The fact that she wasn't even trying to apologize, that she sat there with such casual indifference after being caught in a five-year lie, made a hot, jagged rage flare in my chest.

I recoiled, stepping back as if she were something venomous. "Youve been lying to me for five years, Kat. Five years of 'struggling' together, five years of me working double shifts so you could 'rest.' And all you have to say is 'we need to talk'?"

Her dark eyes, usually so soft, turned flat and hard.

"And what do you want me to say?" She kicked off her heels and leaned back, crossing her legs. "Don't overplay your hand, Nate Miller."

I felt the floor shift beneath me. This Kat was a stranger. This arrogant, entitled creature was the polar opposite of the warm, supportive woman Id loved. And yet, the face was the same.

"Why?" I choked out, my eyes stinging. I felt small. I felt pathetic. "Youre a Montgomery. Youre the heir to a fortune. Why did you watch me lose my finger? Why didn't you help me?"

She let out a short, dry chuckle and stood up. She walked toward me, placing her hands on my shoulders. Her touch felt like ice.

"Because the Kat you were with was a girl on a construction site," she said, her voice dripping with a terrifying kind of logic. "She didn't have fifty thousand dollars. And Nate... if you really loved me, you wouldn't be questioning the money. Unless, of course, youre only interested in the inheritance?"

Slap.

The sound echoed through the small room, sharp as a gunshot. The air turned frigid.

My breath hitched, my vision blurring with tears of pure fury. "I'm interested in the money? Kat, look me in the eye and say that again. Look at the man who sold his blood and his time for you!"

Kats head stayed turned to the side, her jaw tight. Slowly, she looked back at me, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper.

"Calm down, Nate."

I shook my head, stumbling back. "I can't be calm! Do you think this is a joke? While you were sipping hundred-dollar vintages at the Sovereign, were you laughing at me? Was my love just a punchline for your rich friends?"

Kats patience snapped. She shoved me back and headed for the door. "Talk to me when youve stopped being hysterical."

She paused at the threshold, looking back at me with a chilling, clinical gaze.

"If you want, I can keep you. Youd be a very comfortable mistress, Nate. Think about it."

The door slammed with a force that shook the walls. Then, silence.

I sat on the floor for a long time, a hollow laugh escaping my throat.

Searching for the truth is easy when you have a name. I found Tyler Prestons Instagram. The top post was a photo of their marriage certificatefiled in New York a year ago.

I stumbled into our bedroom and opened the small floor safe. I pulled out two documents. They were symbolic "marriage certificates" from a trip we took to a remote village in Ireland two years ago.

She had held my face that night, the stars reflecting in her eyes. In this village, Nate, the old traditions say a vow is forever. There is no such thing as divorce here. I brought you here to tell you that we are bound for eternity.

I finally understood. She didn't want to marry me in the States because she was already married. The trip to Ireland, the "forever vow"it was all a smokescreen to keep me compliant, to give me the illusion of commitment without the legal reality.

A bitter, jagged laugh escaped me.

The stress of the revelation triggered a familiar, searing pain in my wrist. An old injury from when Id shielded her from a falling pallet on a job site years ago. It had never healed properly because I couldn't afford the physical therapy.

I pulled out my phone and texted her: The old injury is flaring up. Its bad, Kat. I can barely breathe.

In less than thirty minutes, she was back. Her expression was dark, her movements hurried. She grabbed my arm. "Get in the car. Were going to the clinic."

My heart jumped. Was there a spark of the old Kat left? "Why the sudden concern?"

She didn't look at me as she dragged me toward the door. "You can't be a mess right now. Not with Tyler around. I need you healthy enough to stand upright and not look like a charity case. Were going to get you a steroid shot to suppress the pain. You are not going to ruin things by falling apart in public."

She looked at me, a flicker of somethingguilt? Pity?crossing her face. "Be a good boy, Nate. Ill make it up to you later."

The coldness that washed over me was absolute. "No... Kat, the doctor said if I keep suppressing the inflammation with drugs, Ill lose the use of the hand entirely. It needs rest, not a mask."

I tried to pull away. "My hand, it's"

"Enough!" Kat snapped, her voice echoing in the hallway. "Nate Miller, you don't have the luxury of choice anymore. Youre coming with me."

I was sedated and taken to a private wing of a hospital I didn't recognize. Kat had the doctors pump me full of high-dose painkillers and nerve blockers to "mask" the injury.

When I woke up, the sun was streaming through the window. I was alone.

The door pushed open, and a doctor Id seen months ago at the free clinic walked in. He looked at my chart, then at me, his face a mask of grim frustration.

"What were you thinking?" he asked, his voice low. "I told you after the accident that you needed rest and careful rehab. Now? These high-potency suppressants have scorched the nerves. You..."

He took a deep breath, looking away. "You're likely going to lose all motor function in this hand. You won't be able to lift a coffee cup, let alone work."

I stared at my hand under the sheets. It felt heavy, like a piece of dead wood attached to my arm. Tears blurred my vision. "I didn't have a choice..."

The woman I loved had systematically dismantled the only thing I had leftmy ability to provide for myself.

The doctor sighed. "There's more. The nerve damage is permanent, and the complications from the old injury are going to cause you chronic, systemic pain. You need to prepare yourself for a very difficult road ahead."

The door burst open the second the doctor left. A figure blurred toward me, grabbing me by the hair and snapping my head back.

Slap.

"You pathetic little leach!"

Tyler Preston was shaking with rage, his face contorted. "I knew it. Youre not just some driveryoure Kats little side-piece! That apartment in the Hollows? That was yours, wasn't it?"

I winced, the pain in my neck sharp and sudden. I was almost pulled off the bed. I looked him in the eye, my voice trembling but clear. "Tyler, Im not the one who lied to you."

He laughed, a shrill, ugly sound. "You think I care? Look at you. A crippled nobody trying to climb the Montgomery ladder. Kat didn't even tell you who she was! She kept you in a cage because she knew you were a gold-digger!"

I gripped the bedsheets, my body shaking. Before I could retort, Kat appeared in the doorway.

She looked at the sceneTyler hovering over meand her expression merely went flat. She stepped forward, putting a protective arm around Tyler. "Tyler, stop. Its not what you think."

Tyler turned to her, his eyes brimming with performative tears. "Youre still defending him!"

Kat saw his tears and immediately softened. She began wiping them away with her thumb, her voice a coo of pure devotion. "No, baby... Im not." She sighed, a look of utter surrender on her face. "Tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

Tyler turned back to me, a cruel, triumphant smirk playing on his lips. He looked at my pale, ghost-like face and made his demand.

"I want him at the wedding. Not in the back. I want him to be my Best Man. I want him to stand there and watch every second of us becoming one. I want him to see what a real marriage looks like."

"Done," Kat said.

"No," I whispered.

The two words collided. I looked at Kat, the pain in my chest eclipsing the pain in my arm. "Kat, do you have any idea what youve done to me? My hand... I can never use it again. Im going to be in pain for the rest of my life because of what you did yesterday."

"That's enough," she interrupted, her voice like a sheet of lead. "You don't have the right to refuse, Nate. Behave yourself."

She turned back to Tyler, smiling. "There. Satisfied?"

I closed my eyes, a cold stone settling in my gut. "I said no. I won't go."

"Get out," I told them, my voice devoid of emotion. "Both of you. Get out."

They didn't move. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, determined to leave, even if I had to crawl.

Then, Kats voice stopped me. It was a low, vibrationless threat.

"Nate Miller. Your brother, Ben? Hes still at that university in Chicago, isn't he? Accidents happen on campuses every day. Muggings, hit-and-runs... its a dangerous world."

I froze. My hand gripped the doorframe so hard the wood groaned. I turned back, my gaze filled with a sudden, sharp hatred.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me," she said.

I looked at herreally looked at herand realized I had been in love with a ghost for five years. The woman standing there was a monster.

"Fine," I spat. "I'll go. Just leave him alone."

She nodded, satisfied. Tyler grinned.

"Rehearsal is tomorrow. At the Stone Creek Chapel. Don't be late."

The next day, I dragged my broken body and my shattered spirit to the chapel. I didn't expect that a "rehearsal" would involve Tylers entire inner circle of trust-fund vultures.

The moment they saw me, the air filled with sneers.

"So this is the guy who tried to seduce Kat?" a guy in a tailored vest smirked. "Looks like a stray dog. Where do they even find these people?"

"Should we teach him some manners, Tyler? He looks like he needs a reminder of where he belongs."

Tyler looked at me with a fake, weary sigh. He was wearing a custom-tailored suit that made Kats lace gown look even more luminous.

"Let it go, guys," Tyler said, though his eyes were dancing with malice. "I just want to have a beautiful day with my Kat. I don't want any trouble."

His friends weren't about to let their "brother" be insulted by my mere existence.

A guy with a shock of red hair stepped forward, his eyes narrowed with disdain. Without a word of warning, his hand blurred.

The slap was so hard it sent me reeling. Between the painkillers and my weakened state, I didn't have the balance to stay upright. I crashed into a row of wooden pews, my forehead slamming against the sharp corner of the oak.

Warm blood immediately began to trickle down my face.

The red-haired guy didn't even flinch. He spat on the floor near my head. "Trash."

The others moved in, mocking me, shoving me, their hands stinging as they pinched and pulled at my clothes as if I were a rag doll.

"What's going on?"

Kat walked in, her brow furrowing as she saw the commotion.

Tyler immediately turned on the waterworks. He looked at her with huge, shimmering eyes. "Kat... Nate is angry. He doesn't want to be the Best Man. He started screaming at me, saying you don't really love me, that it's all a lie. My friends... they just couldn't stand to hear him talk to me like that."

Kats gaze moved to me. I was on the floor, bleeding and broken. Her eyes flickered for a fraction of a seconda ghost of a memorybefore turning to cold stone.

"Nate Miller," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous register. "It seems you don't care about your brother's safety after all."

I looked up at her through the blood, a cold dread seizing my heart. "What do you mean?"

I tried to crawl toward her, my voice a desperate rasp. "Kat, please. Don't hurt him. I'll do whatever you want. I'll stand there, I'll smile, just please"

She didn't move. She didn't blink.

I turned and dropped to my knees before Tyler. I lowered my head, the ultimate humiliation. "Mr. Preston... Im sorry. Please. I was wrong. Just let my brother go."

After a long, agonizing silence, Tyler chuckled. "Geez, Nate, don't be so dramatic. Fine. Lets get on with the rehearsal."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. As long as Ben was safe, I didn't care about my dignity. He was the only family I had left in the world.

I remembered Kat once telling me: Nate, from now on, my family is yours. Ill always be your rock.

What a joke.

We were halfway through the ceremony walk-through when Kats assistant burst through the chapel doors, her face white as a sheet.

"Ms. Montgomery... theres been an incident. Nates brother, Ben... he was picked up by some men. There was a high-speed chase. His car rolled. He... hes gone."

The world tilted. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears.

Kats face tightened. "Who picked him up? I didn't give that order yet."

The assistant hesitated, glancing at Tyler.

Tyler shrugged, looking bored. "I did. I just wanted to move him to a more 'secure' location to make sure Nate behaved. I didn't know the kid would freak out and try to run. It was an accident."

The grief hit me like a physical explosion. I felt the blood rush to my head, my vision turning red. I lunged at Tyler, a primal scream tearing from my throat. "I'll kill you!"

Thump.

Before I could even touch him, Kats foot connected with my ribs. I was thrown back, hitting the floor like a broken bird.

"He didn't do it on purpose!" Kat snapped. She looked at me, a flicker of something that might have been regret crossing her face, but it was quickly buried under her cold pragmatism. "I'll pay for the funeral. A top-tier service."

She looked away. "Think about your position. The wedding is in ten days. Don't be late. I'll make it up to you after the honeymoon."

She took Tylers hand and walked out, leaving me in the dirt.

Ben was dead. I had nothing. No hand, no family, no love.

The pain was so absolute it was numbing. I walked out of the chapel, toward the highway. I saw a semi-truck barreling down the road at sixty miles an hour.

I closed my eyes and stepped into the light.

The next morning, the chapel coordinator called Kat.

"Ms. Montgomery? We might need to discuss moving the venue. There was a... situation at the chapel. It might be bad luck."

Kat felt a sudden, sharp pang in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"A man committed suicide on the road right outside the gates yesterday. It was... messy. He seemed completely out of his mind."