The Drinking Game That Exposed His Secret Wedding

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We were playing a drinking game at a party when my boyfriends female best friend, Monica, suddenly pushed a shot glass in front of me.

Drink up if you've ever been a mistress.

No one looked surprised. They just snickered.

Summer, you really should drink. They announced their marriage on Instagram a year ago. They only blocked you because Ethan was afraid you'd make a scene.

"So legally, you're the homewrecker here."

My fingers trembled. I looked at Ethan, who was casually swirling his glass, giving a careless nod.

Monica nudged Ethans shoulder with a giggling explanation:

"My family was pressuring me to get married, so he offered to help me out. You don't mind, do you, Summer?"

"It's just a piece of paper. We can get a divorce anytime."

"What about me?" my voice cracked as I asked Ethan.

Ethan pinched my cheek, wearing a nonchalant smirk.

"I drank too much the night before we signed the papers and mistook her for you. I had to take responsibility, right?"

"Our wedding next month will go on as planned. She gets the legal paper, and you get the wedding. It's a win-win, isn't it?"

Eight years of love crumbled into dust in an instant.

I choked back my tears, said nothing, and texted my dad back:

"Dad, I agree to the arranged marriage."

1.

"Summer, just drink it. Don't tell me you're being a party pooper?"

Monica waved the glass in front of me, her eyes gleaming with pure provocation.

The crowd joined in, cheering and jeering.

"Drink! Drink! Drink! Theyre legally married, which makes you the side chick! You owe us a shot!"

The mocking, malicious stares felt like a thousand needles pricking my skin.

This wasn't the first time Ethan's friends had tried to humiliate me.

But this was the first time they had brought it so shamelessly into the open.

In the beginning, Ethan would always protect me.

But ever since Monica returned to the country, everything changed.

He went from warning his friends never to disrespect me, to looking at me coldly and saying:

"Why are you being so dramatic? They're just joking around. Can't you take a joke?"

I bit my tongue hard, letting the metallic taste of blood spread in my mouth.

Ethan kept a smirk on his face and said nothing, as if he, too, was waiting for me to drink that cup of humiliation.

Sensing my stiff posture, he reached out and squeezed my hand.

"Come on, Summer. Just drink it. All the guys are watching. Don't ruin the mood for everyone."

I looked at him, my expression dead cold.

"Do you also think I'm a homewrecker?"

He wrapped an arm around my waist, whispering in a soothing tone.

"Nobodys calling you a homewrecker. Its just a game."

I pushed his arm away, my voice hard.

"Don't touch me. Shes your wife, not me."

Ethans face darkened, impatience flickering in his eyes.

"What is your problem? Monica and I are just best friends. Signing those papers was a joke at first, and then it was just to help her escape her family's matchmaking. What's wrong with helping out a close friend?"

Seeing the tension, Monica quickly chimed in.

"Summer, don't get the wrong idea. Ethan and I are purely platonic."

"The only night anything happened was when he got wasted and mistook me for you. He was like a sex-deprived beast, leaving me so sore I couldn't even get out of bed the next day.

Honestly, his performance was trash. If he weren't my best friend, I would have killed him."

With that, she playfully punched Ethans chest.

Ethan grabbed her hands, pulling her right into his lap.

"My performance was trash? Then who was the one clinging to me all night, screaming so loud that the downstairs neighbors probably heard everything?"

Monicas face flushed red. She sat straddled on Ethans lap, covering his mouth with her hands.

"Shut up! Stop lying!"

Then, she turned to me with a sweet smile.

"Summer, if you really care about the marriage certificate, Ethan and I will go get a divorce in the next couple of days. I'll drink this shot for you as an apology, okay?"

Ethans expression changed instantly. He snatched the glass from her hand.

"What are you doing? Youre on your period, you shouldn't be drinking alcohol!"

"And did I say were divorcing? If we do, your mom is just going to harass you to get married again!"

My chest felt incredibly tight and hollow.

Over the past few years, my parents had pressured us to marry countless times. Every time they brought it up, Ethan would scowl and say:

"It's just a piece of paper. Is it really that important? Our love doesn't need a certificate to prove it."

But now I saw the truth. It wasnt that the paper didn't matter. It mattered too much.

The legal commitment I had waited eight years for was something he happily handed over to his female best friend on a whim.

When Ethan looked back at me, his patience had completely run out. He shoved the glass into my hand.

"Summer Vance, are you done throwing a tantrum? Its just a game. If you lose, you take the penalty."

I suddenly laughed, nodding slowly.

"Yeah. I'm done."

I was completely done with this toxic relationship.

I took the glass and downed it in one gulp. The burning liquid made tears stream down my face.

"Ethan Thorne, we are over."

2.

Ethan froze for a second, a flash of panic crossing his eyes.

I grabbed my purse, turned around, and walked out.

Just as Ethan was about to chase after me, someone called out:

"Ethan! If you leave, who's going to drive Monica home?"

Ethan paused in his tracks.

Monicas mocking voice echoed behind him:

"Come on, a friend is never as important as a girlfriend. Go pamper Summer. I'm not one of those delicate girls who needs a man to escort her home."

In the end, he didn't follow me.

While I was in the cab, a text from Ethan popped up on my phone.

"Summer, stop talking out of anger."

"It's late, and it's not safe for Monica to go home alone. I'll head back to our place right after I drop her off. Be good and wait for me at home."

I looked out at the pitch-black night outside the window and let out a bitter laugh.

He never worried about me being alone. He only worried about Monica.

Ethan didn't come back until the next afternoon.

By then, I was already packing my things, getting ready to move out.

Ethan hugged me from behind, slipping a bakery bag into my hands.

"Don't be mad anymore, okay? I went way out of my way and waited in line for hours just to get your favorite cake."

I opened the bag. It was a mango mousse cakeMonicas favorite.

And just half an hour ago, Monica had posted on her Snapchat story.

"Since my bestie waited in line for hours to buy me my favorite cake, I'll forgive him for his wild behavior last night~"

The post was accompanied by a picture of Ethan standing in line at the bakery.

Their mutual friends had commented underneath:

"Wild behavior? Like, wild in bed?"

Ethan leaned down, trying to kiss me.

A strong scent of citrus drifted from his collarthe exact same perfume Monica wore.

A wave of intense nausea hit my stomach.

I pushed him away violently.

Ethan's face twisted in frustration. He grit his teeth and yelled:

"Summer Vance, what is your deal?!"

"I stood in line for hours just to make you happy! What more do you want from me?!"

I looked at him, a cold smile playing on my lips.

"To make me happy? Or to make your precious best friend happy?"

I turned and threw the cake straight into the trash can.

Ethans face darkened completely.

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

I tried my best to hold back my tears, my voice trembling.

"Whether it's nonsense or not, you know the truth."

"You remember everything she likes to eat. You pick the cilantro out of her food during group dinners. You even remember her period cycle perfectly. But you don't even remember that I am deadly allergic to mangoes."

"You went as far as secretly marrying her at the courthouse, and you're still acting like you did nothing wrong?"

The moment the words left my mouth, Ethan slammed his fist into the vanity mirror.

The glass shattered into pieces. Several shards flew and cut my arm, drawing blood.

He roared at the top of his lungs:

"I already told you I was just helping her out! Why do you keep digging up the past?!"

"It's just a piece of paper! I said I would marry you! Are you really that desperate for a stupid marriage license?!"

My ears rang from his screaming.

I stared at him. He had the exact same face, but he felt like a complete stranger.

Years ago, my parents had strongly opposed our relationship because he was dirt poor.

For him, I cut ties with my family.

I followed him to New York to start his business.

When he had no capital, I emptied my entire savings account for him.

I worked three jobs a day, eating expired bread for three meals just to save a few pennies.

I overworked myself to the point of collapse and lost our first baby.

Back then, he knelt by my hospital bed, crying his eyes out, swearing he would never betray me.

So when his company finally started making money, he couldn't wait to buy me a diamond ring.

I still remembered how his eyes shone back then.

"Summer, my greatest dream is to have my name next to the love of my life on a marriage certificate. And that person will only ever be you."

My chest ached so badly I couldn't speak.

Maybe the despair on my face was too obvious.

Ethan looked slightly regretful. He reached out to hold me, but before his hands could touch my shoulders, his phone's VIP ringtone blared.

He glanced at the screen, and his face instantly turned into a mask of anxiety.

He grabbed his coat and headed straight for the door.

"Summer, you need to check your attitude."

The door slammed shut.

I fell to my knees, dry-heaving uncontrollably.

I clutched the fabric over my chest tightly.

It felt like the only way to stop myself from suffocating.

When I was too exhausted to cry, I dragged myself off the floor and went back to packing.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from my dad.

"The wedding is set for the 30th of next month."

The date of the wedding was unchanged, but the groom was someone else.

3.

I was almost done packing when Ethan returned.

Monica was right behind him.

Her ankle was wrapped in gauze, and she limped into the apartment.

I watched as Ethan knelt, gently held her ankle, and helped her slip into a pair of indoor slippers.

He supported her waist, guided her to the couch, and poured her a glass of warm water.

He used his favorite personal mug. He was a germaphobe and never shared cups with me.

Once, I had accidentally drank from his mug, and the very next day, I saw it in the trash can.

Ethan looked up at me, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Monica fell and injured her leg in her bathroom. There's no elevator in her old apartment building, so it's hard for her to go up and down the stairs. Shes staying here for a few days."

I didn't say a word. I just continued packing.

Monica let out a sigh, draping an arm over Ethan's shoulder.

"Look, your wife is jealous again. You should just take me back. I don't want Summer accusing us of having an affair again."

She pouted.

"We are totally platonic, and I hate being falsely accused."

Ethan looked at me with annoyance, about to snap, but I cut him off:

"I don't mind."

After all, I was leaving.

He stared at me, clearly taken aback by how easily I had agreed.

At that moment, Nugget, our cat, ran out of the bedroom.

Monica shrieked and jumped back on the couch.

"Ethan! Get that thing away from me!"

Ethan frowned and kicked Nugget away, then scooped Monica into his arms and carried her into the guest bedroom.

When he walked back out, his voice was cold and demanding:

"Monica is terrified of cats. Take Nugget to a boarding center for a while."

The moment Monica arrived, even the pet we had raised together for five years was no longer welcome.

I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and nodded.

"No need. I'll take Nugget with me."

Only then did Ethan notice the suitcases by the door. His brows furrowed.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

He paused, but then his tense expression relaxed.

"Fine. We both need some space to cool off anyway. Plus, youve always had an issue with Monica. Its better if you leave for a bit. Once shes fully recovered, I'll bring you back."

But I had no intention of ever coming back.

As I turned to open the door, I called out his name one last time.

"Goodbye, Ethan."

Meeting my gaze, a strange wave of panic washed over Ethan. It felt like something was slipping away from him forever.

He instinctively reached out to grab my hand.

But in the next second, Monicas cry of pain echoed from the guest room.

Ethan instantly panicked and rushed back inside, throwing a final sentence over his shoulder:

"I need to take care of Monica. Don't bother me with those tedious wedding details. Just handle them yourself."

In his eyes, anything concerning Monica was a matter of life and death, while our wedding was just a tedious chore.

I stared at his retreating back. My eyes burned, but no tears fell.

They had probably dried up long ago.

Our love had lasted from college into adulthood. I honestly believed we would go from school uniforms to a white wedding dress.

But at this moment, my heart was completely crushed, never to beat for him again.

4.

After returning to my parents' house, I took some time off work to clear my head.

A week before the wedding, my best friend called me in a panic.

"Summer! Oh my god, open TikTok right now!"

My heart skipped a beat. I quickly opened the app.

I found that the video of us playing that drinking game had been uploaded by Monica.

She was a minor influencer who regularly posted "day-in-the-life" videos with her male friends.

The video had been heavily edited. It cut out the context and only showed the part where I "admitted" to being a mistress.

The internet was absolutely ruthless.

People quickly doxxed my name and found out where I worked.

My social media accounts were flooded with thousands of hateful messages.

"A college lecturer acting as a homewrecker? How shameless!"

"Die, mistress!"

"No wonder she became an associate professor at such a young age. She probably slept her way to the top. Disgusting!"

...

Some people even sent anonymous letters to the university board, demanding I be fired for moral turpitude.

I shook with rage, slammed my foot on the gas, and drove straight to Ethans apartment.

Facing my fury, Monica just chuckled casually.

"I just thought that part of the video was funny, so I posted it. Don't be so sensitive, Summer."

Seeing the blatant malice in her eyes, my anger erupted.

I slapped her across the face.

"SLAP!"

Ethan shoved me back violently, his face pale with rage.

"Summer! Are you insane?!"

"It's just a stupid video! Do you have to make such a big deal out of nothing?!"

I unlocked my phone and shoved the screen in his face.

"Look at what she wrote! Because of her, I'm about to lose my job"

Ethan cut me off impatiently:

"Monica is just clumsy and carefree. Shes not like youalways calculating and bitter. How could she have known a simple video would go viral?"

"Besides, did she lie? What she posted is the truth!"

I stared at him in utter disbelief, a sharp pain piercing my chest.

"What did you just say?"

Suddenly, I lost all energy to argue.

I gasped for air, still feeling like I was suffocating.

One sentence from him made the last eight years look like a complete joke.

At this moment, my heart went completely cold.

My phone rang. It was the bridal shop.

"Hi, Ms. Vance. You have a wedding dress fitting scheduled for 3:00 PM today. It's time. Are you still coming?"

I nodded.

"Yes. I'll be right there."

After I hung up, Ethan let out a mocking laugh.

"So this whole dramatic scene was just to force me to go to the dress fitting with you, huh?"

He naturally assumed I was just trying to grab his attention.

"Too bad. I have to take Monica to her follow-up appointment today. Go by yourself."

Sensing my silence, he added warningly:

"If you keep throwing tantrums, don't expect me to show up at the wedding next week."

He was absolutely certain that I was desperate for this wedding, desperate to marry him.

But that was the old me.

I let out a cynical chuckle.

"Suit yourself."

I turned and walked away.

My wedding had absolutely nothing to do with him anyway.

...

On the day of the wedding, Ethan stood on the stage in a sleek tuxedo, his eyes locked onto the grand doors of the ballroom.

He thought he would feel calm.

But his palms were sweating.

Only now did he realize how much he had actually looked forward to this day.

Memories of our past flashed through his mind, and the only thought left in his head was how beautiful I would look in a wedding dress.

He waited and waited, but the doors remained closed.

An intense feeling of dread began to creep into his chest.

Finally, the doors swung open, and the bride stepped out.

Ethan let out a huge sigh of relief.

But the moment he saw her face, his expression froze.

At that exact moment, his best friend whispered in shock beside him:

"Holy shit, Ethan! This is insane! The wedding next door... the bride's name is also Summer Vance! And her photo on the welcome board looks exactly like your Summer!"