He Chose His Bestie on Our Wedding Day

According to my family's tradition, the groom had to put the wedding shoes on the bride's feet with his own hands.

It symbolized that our future path together would be filled with pure happiness.

But just as my fianc was about to slip the shoes onto my feet, his childhood best friend, Chloe Higgins, let out a sharp cry.

"Julian! The clasp on my high heels just broke. Can you help me fix it?"

Without a second thought, Julian Carter threw my wedding shoes aside.

He turned around, got down on one knee in front of Chloe, and began fixing her clasp.

An Angered heat rushed to my face, and I questioned him:

"Julian, according to my family's tradition, you are only supposed to put shoes on your bride today."

He didn't even look up.

"What century are we living in? Why are you still believing in such silly superstitions?"

Chloe wiggled her foot once the shoe was fixed, giving me a smug, sweet smile.

"Is Evelyn mad? He's just being kind by helping me. You're lucky to marry someone as sweet as Julian."

I looked down at my bare feet.

Suddenly, I felt there was no point in wearing these wedding shoes anymore.

I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the man who had personally handcrafted a pair of shoes for me years ago:

Want to crash a wedding?

Bring the wedding shoes you made for me, and take the bride away.

Wait for me!

Seeing the quick reply, I locked my phone screen.

Chloe stepped in her newly fixed shoes, twirling half a circle. The hem of her bridesmaid dress brushed past Julian's knees, seemingly by accident.

"You've got great hands," she said, her eyes curving flirtatiously.

Julian smiled helplessly, his gaze warm.

"Alright, stop jumping around. If they break again, I won't have time to fix them."

The two of them smiled at each other, completely ignoring everyone else in the room.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my toes curling involuntarily.

The cold air from the air conditioner crawled up my ankles, sending a chill straight to my heart.

My mom couldn't take it anymore. She stepped forward, physically blocking the two of them.

"Julian, the ceremony is starting in twenty minutes. Why haven't you put Evelyn's shoes on yet?"

"Our family tradition says the groom must put the shoes on the bride for the marriage to be blessed."

"What's wrong with you, leaving Evelyn sitting here while you fix a bridesmaid's shoe?"

Only then did Julian look at me, but his expression was entirely indifferent.

"Traditions are flexible, Eleanor."

He turned around and took a luxury designer box from his best man.

"I actually prepared a surprise for Evelyn."

He opened the box, revealing a pair of custom haute couture wedding shoes.

The other bridesmaids let out a collective gasp of awe.

"Oh my god, they are gorgeous! I heard this design has a six-month waiting list!"

"The groom is so thoughtful. Evelyn, you are so lucky."

Julian held the box, his tone carrying a hint of self-righteous pride.

"I had a friend fly these in from Paris just so you could have a unique wedding."

I stared at the shoes. My heart felt absolutely nothing.

Twelve-centimeter stiletto heels.

An extremely narrow, pointed toe.

These were all the design elements I avoided at all costs in my daily life.

I have a high arch. I can't wear pointed shoes, and I certainly can't walk in such thin heels.

And Julian knew this perfectly well.

Three years ago, on my birthday, he took me on a date to an amusement park.

The new shoes I wore that day blistered my heels, and I was walking a bit slow. He noticed immediately.

He knelt down, took my shoes off, and threw them straight into the trash can.

Then, ignoring the startled looks of the crowd, he took off his own limited-edition sneakers and put them on my feet.

His shoes were massive on me, like two giant boats, but they were incredibly warm.

He ran across the scorching asphalt in just his socks to a nearby shop to buy me a pair of cute, soft cotton slides.

Back then, he kissed the tip of my nose, his eyes filled with pure love.

"My Evelyn's feet are meant for walking on smooth paths."

"We will never wear shoes that don't fit again."

That memory was etched into my soul.

But now...

Chloe leaned in, her smile barely concealed.

"Evelyn, these shoes suit you so well, don't they? I helped Julian pick them out for several nights!"

The moment the words left her mouth, she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands in mock innocence.

"Oh dear, did I ruin the surprise?"

"Julian said you don't know much about luxury brands, so he practically begged me to help him choose."

Julian nodded, taking it completely for granted.

"Chloe always has great taste."

"The shoes you usually buy are too plain. Today is our big day, you should look radiant."

My mom's face flushed with anger.

"Only the feet know if the shoes fit! What's the point of them looking good if they hurt?"

"Evelyn is not used to such high stilettos. What if she falls?"

Chloe chipped in with a giggle.

"Julian will be holding her. How could she fall?"

"When a girl gets married, suffering a little for beauty is totally worth it."

Julian casually tossed the luxury box onto the end of the bed and reached out to grab my ankle.

His palm was warm, but I felt freezing cold.

He picked up the stiletto and tried to force it onto my foot without even asking.

The moment my toes hit the narrow front, a sharp, piercing pain shot up my leg.

I instinctively pulled my foot back.

"Ouch! It hurts!"

"Stop squirming!" Julian frowned, his voice growing impatient. "Just squeeze into it. It'll fit."

His grip tightened, and he tried to force my foot into the shoe again.

The rough edge scraped off a piece of my skin, and my heel instantly turned red.

It hurt so bad!

I kicked my foot back with force. The sharp metal clasp scraped across my instep, leaving a harsh white scratch.

"Julian, I wear a size 7."

"But these custom shoes are a size 6."

"That is Chloe's shoe size."

The noisy bedroom fell into a sudden, dead silence.

Julian froze at the edge of the bed. He hesitantly looked down at the label on the side of the box.

Size: 6.

Irritated, he tugged at his tie and whipped his head around to glare at Chloe.

Tears instantly welled up in Chloe's eyes, her voice trembling with a sob.

"Julian... I'm so sorry."

"I asked the designer, and they said this style runs large. Plus, a size 6 looks best in photos. It makes the bride's feet look small and delicate."

She grabbed Julian's sleeve, tears streaming down her face.

"I just wanted Evelyn to look perfect in the wedding photos. I didn't mean to... I really didn't know she couldn't even squeeze into them..."

With only twenty minutes left before the ceremony, it was impossible to find another pair of wedding shoes!

Julian sighed, reaching out to gently pat Chloe's hair.

"It's not your fault. You had good intentions. I was too busy and didn't double-check the order myself."

He picked up the small shoe again, softening his voice as he looked at me.

"Evelyn, we're out of time. Just deal with it for half a day."

"You don't have to walk much in the wedding car anyway. Once we get to the venue, we'll just do the ceremony walk, and it'll be over before you know it."

I stared at him, the last warmth in my heart freezing over.

Once, Julian's favorite thing to brag about was how he memorized all my sizes.

At parties with friends, he would put his arm around my shoulder and say:

"A man who can't even remember his own woman's shoe size and ring size doesn't deserve to be in a relationship."

He knew damn well I was a size 7. He knew my arches were high and that I couldn't handle tight shoes.

Yet now, he outsourced such an important task to Chloe, and even after she messed up, he wanted me to "deal with it"!

I asked coldly, "On the most important day of my life, you want me to force my feet into shoes that don't fit?"

Julian's brow furrowed deep.

"Can't you just bear it for a bit? You usually don't complain about bumps and bruises. Why are you making such a big deal out of this today?"

My mom rushed over, snatched the shoe from his hand, and slammed it onto the floor.

"I raised my daughter for over twenty years, and on her wedding day, you want her to suffer in tiny shoes?!"

The heel hit the hardwood floor with a loud, dull thud.

"Oh dear, what's with the temper?"

The bedroom door was pushed open, and Julian's mother, Beatrice Carter, walked in slowly. Her eyes were filled with nothing but disdain as she looked at me.

"Is this tiny matter really worth throwing a tantrum in front of all these people?"

"If the shoe is too small, just take out the insoles. Problem solved."

My dad stepped forward, his face dark.

"An ill-fitting shoe on a wedding day ruins the blessing! You're basically cursing my daughter to have a hard life ahead!"

Beatrice squeezed out a fake smile.

"Arthur, the Carter family is well-known in this city."

"These shoes cost fifteen thousand dollars. If Evelyn throws a fit in public, what will people think of us?"

She affectionately took Chloe's arm.

"Chloe stayed up all night helping select the style. Even if she made a mistake, she worked hard."

"You guys are being incredibly petty by making a mountain out of a molehill."

Chloe turned to another bridesmaid, Harper.

"Harper, aren't you a size 7?"

"Evelyn has nothing to wear, and the ceremony is about to start. Can she borrow your shoes for the ceremony?"

Harper froze, looking awkward, but she slowly slipped off her semi-worn red high heels.

Chloe took the shoes and pushed them to my feet, acting as if she was saving the day.

"Evelyn, these will definitely fit. Please don't let my mistake ruin your big day."

Julian looked at Chloe with absolute admiration in his eyes.

"See? This is how you handle things smoothly."

"Just wear these. The wedding party is waiting."

I looked down at the worn-out shoes that still carried someone else's body heat. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

"Julian Carter, you want me to wear someone else's old shoes on my wedding day?"

"They're just shoes! Do you have to embarrass everyone like this?"

Julian's patience finally snapped. He kicked Harper's old shoes aside.

"Dozens of relatives are waiting outside, and we have over a hundred tables booked at the venue."

"Evelyn Vance, do you really have to pick a fight right now?"

He stood tall in front of me, his expression cold and stubborn. He was absolutely sure I wouldn't dare ruin the wedding.

The invitations had been sent to everyone in town, and the wedding had been in preparation for over six months.

In his eyes, I was always soft-tempered and cared deeply about my parents' reputation. He believed I would never dare to call off the wedding.

My mom was trembling with rage, pointing at the door.

"The Carter family has gone too far! We are not doing this wedding!"

My dad stood in front of me like a solid, protective shield.

"Take your things and get out."

Beatrice's face twisted instantly, her voice screeching.

"Arthur! The invitations are out! If you call off the wedding now, it's the Vance family that will be humiliated!"

"Have you forgotten your family's social standing? Marrying into our family is a major step up for you guys."

"If you kick us out today, tomorrow the whole town will know your daughter is damaged goods who got dumped at the altar!"

My dad's shoulders tensed.

He was a high school history teacher who had spent his entire life living honorably. He had never suffered such humiliation.

But for my sake, he clenched his fists, standing his ground in silence, swallowing the bitter insult.

Looking at the white hair at my father's temples, my heart ached terribly.

The day Julian proposed, it was in this very room.

He had knelt before my parents, raising three fingers to swear:

"Mr. Vance, Evelyn will have many titles in the futureMrs. Carter, a daughter-in-law, a mother."

"But to me, she will always be your daughter first. She will always be Evelyn Vance."

"She won't have to cook, she won't have to network, she won't have to please anyone. She can be as spoiled as she wants."

"I am marrying her not to make her sacrifice anything, but to make her the happiest girl alive."

Back then, my dad, a man who rarely cried, had red eyes as he placed my hand in Julian's.

But now?

Julian wasn't giving me love. He was making my parents drag their dignity through the mud with me.

Seeing this, Chloe timidly tugged at the corner of Julian's suit jacket.

"Julian, go comfort Evelyn."

"You guys are getting married today. Please don't fight. It's all my fault..."

"Shut up," I said coldly, cutting her off.

Chloe shrank back in fright, hiding behind Julian.

Julian immediately shielded her, his face darkening.

"Evelyn, why are you snapping at Chloe?"

"She was kind enough to borrow shoes to solve your problem, and instead of saying thank you, you yell at her?"

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I pointed at the size 6 wedding shoes.

"Julian, pick up that shoe."

"Look at the back of the clasp. Tell me what is engraved there."

Julian suspiciously picked up the shoe and flipped it over.

On the back of the metal clasp, two letters were clearly engraved:

J & C

Julian's eyes flickered with panic, but he quickly forced a calm expression.

"It's just the designer's personal mark. Stop looking for problems."

I exposed his lie without mercy.

"The brand's founder's initials are not J and C."

Chloe waved her hands in a panic.

"No, that's not it... Julian said he wanted to give me a gift last month. Maybe the workshop mixed up the orders..."

Mixed up the orders?

The wedding shoes bought for the bride were engraved with the initials of the groom and another woman.

He hadn't even bothered to check them, or perhaps he just didn't care if I found out.

I threw back the wedding blanket and stepped bare feet onto the cold hardwood floor.

The chill traveled from the soles of my feet straight to my heart.

"Julian, do you really think I can't survive without you?"

Julian didn't expect that I, who had always been submissive, would openly defy him in front of both our parents.

"Stop acting crazy. The cars are waiting. Put on some shoes and let's go."

He reached out to grab my wrist.

I stepped back to avoid him, grabbed my wedding veil, and ripped it off my head.

The hairpins holding the veil scattered all over the floor, and my long hair fell loosely over my shoulders.

"I'm not going!"

Julian's hand froze in midair.

He stared at the white veil I had thrown at my feet, his breathing turning heavy.

After a brief moment of panic, he straightened his back again, his voice turning threatening and cold.

"Evelyn Vance, you better think carefully about the consequences."

"If you don't walk down those stairs today, what will all the guests outside think of you?"

"Will your family ever be able to hold their heads up in this town again?"

He adjusted his slightly messy cuffs, treating the initials on the wedding shoes as a minor, insignificant detail.

"No wedding is perfect. It's just a little hiccup."

"If you want to throw a tantrum, I can let it slide, but don't play games with our wedding."

"This ceremony isn't something you can just cancel whenever you feel like it."

My mom held my hand tightly, glaring angrily at Julian.

"Even if our family is whispered about for the rest of our lives, we will never throw our daughter into a burning fire!"

"The wedding is off! We will take the blame, and we will pay back any deposits ourselves!"

My dad's slightly hunched back straightened up, his voice booming like a bell.

"Don't be afraid, Evelyn. Your parents are still here. Nobody can force you to marry someone you don't want to."

"At worst, we'll just move to another city. We'll survive."

My nose tingled, and tears threatened to spill over.

The people who truly loved me would never ask me to sacrifice myself for "the bigger picture." They would stand by my side without hesitation when I was wronged.

Julian's face was incredibly ugly.

He gave my parents a icy look, then turned to Chloe.

"Chloe, take the bridesmaids to the venue first. Help me keep the guests and elders calm."

"I'll stay here until she regains her senses."

Chloe nodded, holding her dress as she quickly walked out.

Beatrice followed close behind, letting out a sneer before she left:

"I'd like to see how long Evelyn can keep up this act."

"Once the wedding time passes, let's see how the Vance family faces anyone in town!"

The best men also took the hint and stepped out of the room.

The bedroom fell quiet.

Only my angry parents, myself, and Julian, who was leaning against the door frame lighting a cigarette, remained.

"Don't be sad, Evelyn..." My mom gently stroked my hair, her heart aching.

"We can always move. Your dad and I have our pensions, we can support you!"

I squeezed her hand, any remaining hesitation in my heart completely vanishing.

Julian blew out a cloud of smoke and let out a soft sneer.

"Alright, that's enough. The venue is booked, you've already accepted the wedding expenses, and everyone is waiting."

"You're twenty-six, Evelyn. If you don't get married today, the whole town will know you were dumped. Who would ever want to marry you after this?"

He gestured toward the size 6 shoes with his chin.

"Be a good girl, put the shoes on, get in the car, and I can pretend none of this happened."

I didn't even look at him.

"Julian, you can marry whoever you want."

The moment my words fell, a panicked voice of a best man came from the hallway:

"Julian! There are over a dozen black Rolls-Royce Phantoms downstairs! Their license plates are all sequential!"

"They've completely blocked our wedding convoy! The scale is insane!"

Amidst the shocked gasps outside, the elevator bell dinged.

Steady, heavy footsteps approached from the hallway.

Julian, still holding his cigarette, turned his head in confusion.

A tall, striking man walked in against the light, followed closely by four suited bodyguards.

His custom-made pure black suit wrapped perfectly around his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His sharp eyes carried the undeniable authority of a powerful business tycoon.

Between his long fingers, he held a transparent, temperature-controlled dust box.

Inside the box was a pair of hand-stitched, soft lambskin flat wedding shoes in vibrant red.

Those were the shoes he had crafted years ago, holding my ankle and measuring my foot inch by inch with his own hands.

Sebastian Thorne walked straight past the dumbfounded Julian and knelt on one knee right in front of me.

He looked up, his deep, dark eyes locking onto mine.

"Evelyn, I'm here to take my bride home."