When the Wedding Feast Ends, Love Dies

The night before the wedding, at the bachelorette party, Owen's sister suggested a game called Who's the Best Liar.

Everyone had to say one true thing, but only one person had to lie.

My best friend said, I'm four months pregnant.

His mother said, The baby will carry the Gilbert name.

His sister said, "The nursery in the wedding house is already finished."

And my fianc took my hand and said, "You're still the bride tomorrow."

Everyone burst out laughing at once.

So the one who lied was him.

Right there in front of everyone, my best friend pulled out a marriage certificate and admitted that she and Owen Gilbert had become husband and wife six months ago.

Owen's friends laid their cards on the table one after another.

Someone had covered for their prenatal checkups, someone had helped set up the wedding house, and even my own bridesmaid had already altered the wedding dress to fit Eve's measurements.

Owen wiped away my tears, as gentle as ever.

"Your dad just had brain surgery. He can't handle a shock like this."

"Let Eve have the wedding first, and you stay by my side. Once the baby is born, I'll make it up to you."

That was when my father's attending doctor texted me.

Miss Henson, the surgery was a success. You can take your father home whenever you're ready.

This time, I didn't cry, and I didn't want to hear Owen explain anything.

Owen thought I'd finally come to my senses, and let go of my hand, satisfied.

The freedom Owen wanted, I would give him.

From this moment on, whoever he married had nothing to do with me.

......

After the party ended, the room stayed quiet for less than half a minute.

Owen still had my hand in his, coaxing me in a low voice as if nothing had happened.

"Olive Henson, don't take a joke like that seriously."

"Eve's pregnant. The baby has to have a father. You just won't have the title of wife for now. Nothing else has to change."

Yvonne Gilbert laughed right away.

"Come on, sis, you get to stay by my brother's side. That already makes you luckier than most people."

"Eve's willing to let you live in the wedding house, willing to let you look after my brother. Don't be so ungrateful."

I looked at her and said nothing.

Back in high school, she'd been at the bottom of her class.

I sat with her through her homework every day, sorted through her mistakes, went months without a decent night's sleep.

The day she got her college acceptance letter, she cried in my arms for a long time.

She said I was the only sister-in-law she'd ever claim, for the rest of her life.

Now she peeled a segment of orange, too lazy to even lift her head.

Whoever gave her something to gain, that was who she claimed.

Eve came over to me, one hand supporting her belly.

She was wearing a loose long dress today, four months along, the bump already obvious.

"Ollie, don't be upset."

She tried to take my hand.

I turned aside and avoided it.

Her hand hung there in the air, and she immediately looked at Owen, wounded.

Owen's expression shifted, but he didn't blame her.

"Eve isn't well. Don't embarrass her."

I almost laughed.

I was the one being forced to give up the wedding.

I was the one who'd spent seven years with him.

Yet in their mouths, I was the extra one.

Owen's friend, Xavier Dickerson, leaned back on the couch and lit a cigarette.

"Olive, your dad just had brain surgery. The recovery's going to cost a lot more, isn't it?"

"I hear it's already run into the hundreds of thousands."

He said it and blew out a mouthful of smoke.

"Besides Owen, who else could carry that for you?"

"You don't actually think you matter that much, do you?"

I looked up at him.

"I raised the surgery money by selling the old house."

"Owen didn't put in a single cent."

Xavier gave a short laugh.

"Owen ran to how many hospitals for your dad, pulled how many strings, and you wipe it all out with one 'he didn't pay'?"

Yvonne chimed in too.

"My brother was willing to help you because you were his fiance."

"Without my brother, who knows if your dad would even be alive right now."

Owen's mother, Mrs. Abbott, sat off to the side, teacup in hand, and said coldly,

"A person ought to have a conscience."

"What your Henson family owes the Gilberts now can't be cleared up with a few words."

I lowered my eyes.

The doctor's message was still there on my phone.

My father was fine.

Their last card had already gone dead.

But I didn't want to blow things open just yet.

Owen would definitely go make a scene at the hospital.

I had to get my father out first.

I lifted my head and put on a tired face.

"I understand."

Owen thought I'd given in, and gripped my hand tighter.

"You have to be at the wedding tomorrow."

"It's Eve's first wedding. There's a lot she doesn't know. You'll be there as a bridesmaid, keep her company, and take the toasts for her."

He lowered his voice, a warning in it.

"Don't let your dad catch any of the gossip going around."

I looked at him.

"Fine."

He was satisfied at last.

Xavier and Yvonne traded a glance and started laughing again.

Eve put her hand back on her belly and began going over tomorrow's schedule.

No one noticed that I'd already opened my phone and uploaded the recording from the room to the cloud.

I'd also contacted a lawyer.

I told him to find out everything about my father's hospital paperwork and the ownership status of that wedding house.

First thing in the morning, I would take my father and leave.

As for the freedom Owen wanted.

I would hand it back to him myself.

The next morning, Eve posted to her social media feed.

In the photo, her hand rested on a red marriage certificate.

The caption was a single line:

Six months late, but the happy ending is finally mine.

Yvonne was the first to comment.

Eve is the daughter-in-law the Gilberts always wanted.

Owen's friends chimed in below.

True love wins in the end.

Some people held on to Owen for years. About time they stepped aside.

The post wasn't hidden from anyone.

It made its way into the company group chat before long.

Wasn't Olive Henson Owen Gilbert's fiance?

So she was the mistress all along?

Living in their wedding home and trying to steal the husband too. Disgusting.

I'd barely finished reading the messages when HR's notice came through.

Miss Henson, please suspend your work effective immediately and sort out your personal affairs. The company would prefer to avoid any negative fallout.

I stared at those lines, and my first thought was my father.

He'd only just come out of surgery, still weak.

If someone showed him any of this, he'd blame himself.

I grabbed my bag and rushed for the hospital.

On the way, I called Owen.

It rang a few times, but the one who answered was Eve.

Ollie, I'm so sorry.

Her voice was soft.

I only wanted to make things official for our marriage. I never meant for it to touch you.

Why did you post the marriage certificate?

I kept my voice low.

My father's still in the hospital. What if he sees it?

The line went quiet for two seconds.

Then Eve laughed.

Don't worry. I already had a word with the nurses' station.

I told them you're the mistress who kept clinging to Owen after he dumped you. They won't let your father hear much of anything.

My hand went still around the phone.

What did you just say?

Ollie, don't blame me.

There wasn't a trace of apology in her tone.

Whose fault is it that you kept hogging the spot as Owen's fiance?

Owen's voice came through the phone.

Eve, the waist on this dress is a little tight. Should we size up?

She answered with a coo.

Come take a look for me.

Then came the clatter of hangers.

And her lowered laughter.

I hit record right away.

Where's Owen? Put him on.

Eve ignored me.

Ollie, I'm busy today. Once the wedding's over, I'll comfort you properly.

The call cut off.

I phoned the company back and found out they'd both taken the day off.

I changed course, deciding to swing by the wedding home first for my father's insurance card and documents.

But when I reached the door, my key wouldn't turn.

The lock had been changed.

I tried my backup fingerprint a few times, and to my surprise, the door opened.

The living room was full of baby supplies.

The renovation sketches I'd drawn by hand were tossed on the floor, and on the wall hung Eve and Owen's wedding photo.

The two of them were sitting on the couch, picking out furniture.

The first thing Owen said when he saw me was:

What are you here for?

To get my father's things.

I went to the study, found the documents, and picked up the property paperwork off the desk on my way.

The owners listed on it had already been changed to Owen and Eve.

When did you change this?

Owen leaned against the doorframe.

Three months ago.

I'm the one who paid for this place.

I looked at him.

I'd scraped the down payment together by selling the old house my father left me.

The renovation and the furniture had all come out of my account too.

At the time, Owen said he was only helping me handle the paperwork.

So he'd had it planned all along.

Give me back what's mine.

My voice was very quiet.

But Owen only smiled.

Your father still needs to recover, doesn't he?

Behave yourself, and I'll let Eve stay here a while.

Once the baby's born, I'll make it up to you.

I walked out with the documents in hand.

My lawyer's message came through right then.

There are irregularities in the ownership transfer. We can file to freeze it.

I replied with one word.

Now.

But just as I was hurrying to the hospital, the caregiver called.

Miss Henson, the hospital says your father's original medical records are with Mr. Gilbert.

They're telling you to come to the wedding venue to pick them up.

On the day of the wedding, by the time I reached the hotel, the dressing room was already in chaos.

Owen was standing at the door. When he saw me, his face darkened.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

I looked down at myself.

A long black dress.

It was the outfit I'd set aside for the day my father was discharged from the hospital.

"Where are the medical records?"

I asked.

Owen didn't answer. Instead, he looked me over.

"Today is Eve's wedding. The least you can do is smile."

"When you go up to pour the tea later, don't stand there looking like a corpse."

"Your father is still in the hospital. Making an ugly scene doesn't do anyone any good."

I said nothing.

He probably assumed I'd still be thinking of my father, still covering for him.

Eve came out from inside.

She was wearing the wedding gown, just altered, its train dragging on the floor.

My bridesmaid dress had been tossed over the back of a chair.

"Ollie, thank you for all your trouble."

She rested a hand on my shoulder.

I stepped aside.

She lost her footing and stumbled back a couple of steps.

Owen reached out at once to steady her.

"Olive, can you please stop targeting her?"

I looked at the lipstick mark on his collar.

"Give me the medical records."

Whatever patience he had left ran out.

"After the wedding."

I turned to go find the hotel manager, but Mrs. Abbott walked in from outside.

She was holding a red jewelry box.

"Eve, come try this on."

When the box opened, inside was a jade necklace.

It was the one my grandmother had left me.

At our engagement, I'd handed it to Owen for safekeeping.

Mrs. Abbott fastened the necklace around Eve's neck with her own hands.

"Now this is what a Gilbert daughter-in-law should look like."

She checked Eve in the mirror and nodded, satisfied.

"Good education, respectable family. Not like some people, with nothing but a sickly invalid of a father at home, still deluding themselves into thinking they could marry into our family."

Everyone around us turned to look.

I stood where I was and listened to her run me down, line by line.

Owen didn't stop her.

He just took out his phone and looked over the guest list.

Mrs. Abbott glanced at him.

"Owen, the name on the invitations is wrong."

"Change the bride to Eve."

"The wedding photos, the place cards, and the introduction onstage. Change all of it."

Owen finally looked up.

He looked at me for a few seconds.

In those few seconds, I was still waiting.

Waiting for him to remember the day we picked out our wedding rings together.

Waiting for him to remember the six months my father had spent lying in a hospital bed because he'd saved his life.

Waiting for him to at least say it wasn't like this.

But he lowered his head and made the call.

"Change out everything at the venue."

"Reconfirm the gown to Eve's measurements."

When he hung up, a few soft laughs rippled through the dressing room.

I slipped the ring off my finger.

Owen had chosen this ring.

It hadn't cost much, and the design was plain.

He'd said that once he had money, he'd trade it for something better.

I dropped the ring into the trash.

"Owen, we're done."

His expression changed and he grabbed my arm.

"Olive, don't do this."

"Just let Eve have the wedding for today."

"Your father is still in the hospital. Do you really want him to die with regrets?"

I shook his hand off.

"You think I can't live without you?"

Owen froze.

I didn't look at him again. I turned and walked out.

The moment the hotel doors opened, my phone started buzzing over and over.

Abusive texts from unknown numbers.

A suspension notice in the company group chat.

The trending headline stung so badly I could barely keep my eyes open.

Fiance turned mistress: what has Olive Henson been hiding?

The photo was my ID picture, maliciously doctored.

And Owen and Eve's marriage certificate.

I texted Owen, asking if he'd done this.

A red exclamation mark popped up beside the message.

The next second, the caregiver from the hospital called.

"Miss Henson, come quickly!"

"Two women barged into your father's room. He's in a very bad way!"

I spun around and ran down the steps.

Inside the ballroom, the music had already started.

And my father was lying alone in the hospital.

When I reached the hospital, the guard outside the room was gone.

The caregiver stood by the door, too flustered to get out a full sentence.

"Mr. Gilbert left word. He said there was no need to keep anyone on watch today."

I didn't wait to answer. I shoved the door open and rushed in.

My father was already sitting up.

His face was gray, the IV line still taped to the back of his hand.

Eve Swanson stood at the bedside, a sheet of paper in her hand.

Yvonne held up her phone, zooming in on the trending page so he could see.

"Dad!"

I ran over and blocked the screen.

"Get out, both of you!"

Eve stepped back at once.

"Ollie, don't get worked up."

"We only came to set the record straight."

My father looked at me, his voice faint.

"Ollie... is what they're saying true?"

"You and Owen Gilbert aren't married yet?"

I took his hand.

"Dad, don't listen to them."

"I've already broken up with him. The surgery went well. The doctor said you can be discharged today."

He froze.

Before he could speak, Yvonne suddenly slapped the paper down on the bed.

"Went well, my foot."

"This IOU spells it out. The surgery and the follow-up treatment came to one point two million, all of it paid by my brother."

I picked up the paper.

In the borrower's line was my father's name.

The date was the day before the surgery.

"This is fake."

I stared at her.

Yvonne sneered.

"Fake?"

"Your family took the Gilberts' money and still wants to dump my brother. Your own father's lying in a hospital bed, and you're off stealing someone else's husband."

She pushed the phone in front of my father.

The screen showed the post branding me the other woman.

"Sir, your daughter lost her shame a long time ago."

"She spends my brother's money and clings to her spot as the Gilberts' fiance."

"Now that Eve's pregnant, she still won't step aside."

Eve made a show of tugging at Yvonne.

"Yvie, that's enough."

"Her father's health is fragile. Knowing the truth is enough."

She turned and looked at my father, gentle.

"Sir, Ollie really did date Owen for a few years."

"But the feelings died long ago. She won't admit it because she can't give up what the Gilbert family offers."

"Don't worry. Once the baby comes, Owen will take good care of you."

My father stared and stared at that IOU.

His hands began to shake.

"Ollie..."

"Dad, don't look at it."

I reached for the paper.

Yvonne pinned it down first.

"What's wrong? Afraid your father will find out how you tricked my brother?"

The monitor at the bedside broke into a shrill alarm.

My father clutched his chest and coughed hard.

Blood fell onto the white sheet.

"Doctor!"

I lunged for the call button.

Eve blocked my way.

"Don't upset your father."

"Let him hear us out first."

"Move!"

I shoved her aside.

She let herself drop to the floor by the door, clutching her belly and crying out in pain.

Yvonne planted herself in the doorway.

"His wife's stomach hurts. You can't touch her."

The doctor and nurses were at the far end of the hall.

But the two of them blocked the door, and no one could get through.

Eve braced herself against the frame and said, low:

"Ollie, your father's old. He was never going to last long anyway."

"Yvie just took a burden off your hands."

"You should be thanking her."

I raised my hand to hit her.

Then the door was thrown open.

Owen rushed in, and the first thing he saw was Eve collapsed by the door.

He didn't look at the bed.

He didn't look at my father.

He charged over and shoved me aside.

The small of my back slammed into the crash cart. It hurt too much to stand.

"Olive Henson, what are you throwing a fit about now?"

"Eve's carrying a child, and you dare lay a hand on her?"

I pointed at the bed.

"Save my father first!"

Owen frowned and shielded Eve.

"Get a grip on yourself."

"Eve, let's go. The wedding isn't over."

The doctor finally rushed into the room.

But my father's heart had already stopped.

On the monitor, nothing left but a flat line.

I knelt at the bedside and heard the doctor call it. Resuscitation had failed.

The sob caught in my throat and would not come out, no matter what.

A long time later, I picked up my phone.

I backed up all of it, the room's security footage, the audio, the fake IOU, and their chat logs.

I sent the files to my lawyer.

Deliberate provocation of a post-op patient, obstruction of emergency care.

Call the police now.

Then I logged in to the wedding venue's cloud console.

Every piece of equipment at that wedding, I had set up myself.

I replaced the love montage they were about to play.

The lights at the wedding were dimming down.

And what the big screen was about to play was the last footage of my father before he died.