His Female Buddy Disrupted Our Wedding Night; I Annulled

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On my wedding night, I lay under the covers in the new lace set I'd bought, shy and waiting.

But when the covers were pulled back, it was Sybilla Fox, my husband Terry Swanson's so-called one of the boys.

She burst out of the closet and threw herself at me, phone up and recording, laughing her head off.

"See that? Terry, you dog, you lose. It's lace, not cat ears."

"A bet's a bet. Your punishment is you only get to be with the boys tonight. No touching your soft, sweet little wife."

I shrieked and dodged the camera, but she pinched my chest and said,

"Don't be shy, sweetheart. It's just some wedding-night fun."

Terry stormed in, flushed with anger, and smacked her hard across the backside.

"Get off. Don't touch my wife."

Sybilla grinned and poked at Terry's belt.

"One look at you and I can tell you've got nothing. What do you even need a wife for?"

"Who's got nothing? You want to test that?"

Cursing under his breath, Terry hauled her up and threw her down onto the bed.

"I don't believe it. Next time I'm staying to watch. I'll even time you."

The two of them tangled and roughhoused, back and forth.

I called Terry's name, over and over, helpless. He ignored every one.

All I could do was pull my arms around myself and shrink down under the covers, mortified.

A few messages popped up in the group chat.

It was the video Sybilla had just posted.

"Sybilla won the bet! Terry, we're at the bar waiting for you!"

"Poor guy can't be with his wife tonight, but Sybilla's got a hot body too, so no real loss, huh?"

Terry let Sybilla hang off his neck and gave me a helpless little smile.

"Iris, there's nothing I can do. I've got to go be with the boys tonight. I won't be back."

I held back the tears and nodded.

If he wouldn't come back on our wedding night, then he didn't need to come back at all.

...

"You hear that, Terry, you little dog? Come with me."

"But you're not allowed in my soft, sweet Iris's bed, and you're not allowed to touch her."

Sybilla blinked at me.

"Fine, I'll go. But first you take down the video and delete it."

I pointed at the video and the photos of me in the group.

By now the video had set the chat on fire, and someone had started a poll.

"Which does Terry like better, Sybilla's body or Iris Henson's?"

A few of Terry's buddies were weighing in.

"Last time Sybilla lost a game and had to wear black stockings. Way hotter. Terry blushed the whole day."

"No wonder the guy stayed so calm at the lace set today. Turns out he's already seen it all!"

Sybilla gave the screen a lazy glance.

She laughed, completely unbothered.

"Oh please, it's way too late to take it back. Don't be mad, Iris. These idiots are just messing around."

"If you can't take it back, then disband the group."

Swallowing my anger, I reached for the phone.

But Terry grabbed my hand and explained under his breath.

"Come on, wife, don't throw a fit."

"You know how Sybilla is. Just treat her like one of the guys, there's nothing behind it. Don't be so sensitive."

I'd heard some version of that line more times than I could count.

In college, on my first date with Terry.

I closed my eyes and waited for my first kiss, and instead Sybilla rushed over and clamped a hand over my mouth.

"Nobody kisses my Iris!"

In the end Terry tackled her.

The two of them rolled into one heap on Lovers' Hill, and the campus forums crowned them the couple of the day.

Even today, at the wedding, Terry didn't walk me up the aisle on time.

The processional started, and as I stepped onto the flower-lined path, he was off bickering with Sybilla.

"Terry, you dog! Who said you get to snag a wife this easy!"

Sybilla clung tight to Terry's waist.

"Let go, don't stop me."

Terry told her to let go.

But he was smiling, indulgent, not a trace of impatience on his face.

Completely forgetting how humiliating it was for me to stand alone under the spotlight.

All these years, every time I wanted to get angry, "don't be so sensitive" pushed it right back down.

And in the end all I could do was sit with it and stew in silence.

While I was still lost in that thought, Terry draped his own suit jacket over Sybilla.

"Idiot, it's raining today. Don't you know you're cold?"

But a moment ago, when I stood there in that scrap of fabric,

exposed under the camera,

I tugged at his sleeve, again and again.

And it never once occurred to him to cover me with that jacket, to leave me a little dignity.

The door slammed shut, and Terry left one last line behind:

"Wife, don't throw out the lace lingerie. Tomorrow I'll make up the wedding night to you."

But the moment I turned around, I cut that outfit to shreds and dropped it in the trash.

The outfit, and him too. I didn't want either.

At night, I was jolted awake by my phone ringing.

It was Milton James, Terry's childhood friend.

"Iris, Terry's had way too much to drink. You'd better come get him."

"Don't call me."

My voice was cold.

"But... Iris, didn't he have that stomach bleed before? You should really come look after him."

I froze for a moment.

Terry's stomach bleeds. He'd had them so many times.

Back when we'd first graduated, we joined the same startup and ground it out together.

Clients would see me as some fresh-out-of-college girl and try to get me drunk.

Terry would plant himself in front of me every time, and he'd often drink until his stomach bled.

There were times in the hospital when I was so frightened I cried, and he'd smile and comfort me, telling me it would be fine.

"If you won't come, our only option is to call his grandmother."

Milton pleaded.

I hesitated a long while, pressed my lips together, and said, "Address."

The moment I stepped into the private room, something felt off.

It was pitch dark, and far too quiet.

I switched on the light and saw Terry pinning Sybilla down on the couch.

Their bodies pressed together, their breathing thick and suggestive.

The instant I saw it.

I nearly lost my footing, my head roaring.

"What are you two doing?"

The words had barely left my mouth when a whole group of people sprang up from behind the couch, cheering.

"Sybilla wins again! What acting!"

Milton laughed the loudest.

"Haha, Iris, you actually fell for it."

Sybilla climbed off Terry.

She looked at me, laughing so hard she was almost crying.

"Oh, come on, Iris, honey, look how pale your little face is. Is there any need to be this scared?"

"I treat you so well, and you actually thought I wanted to steal your man? Made me your imaginary enemy, did you?"

Terry curved his lips too, helpless.

"I even told them how much you trust me. Guess I lost that one."

"So what's the bet this time?"

I looked at their little farce, worn out, and asked.

Terry wrapped his arms around me from behind and said, careless about it, "Nothing much. Just our honeymoon."

"We're bringing Sybilla along."

"More people, more fun anyway."

"And we're switching the place to Napa Valley. No more South Island. Sybilla doesn't like the ocean."

Something in my chest twisted with a sudden ache.

South Island was the home of my late mother, who had married far away to Elmwood City and rarely went back.

Before she died, she'd kept saying she wanted me to go back in her place, to see it for her, and to bury her there.

The day she passed, Terry held me as I cried myself hoarse, and with red eyes he promised he'd go with me to bring my mother home.

He wrote a thick travel plan.

He marked out every place on South Island where my mother had lived, right alongside me.

But after his promotion, work got too busy, and he'd dragged it out all the way to this honeymoon.

And now, for Sybilla.

He was giving up South Island and choosing Napa Valley.

I held back my tears and demanded an answer.

"Terry, on our wedding night you had your arm around your girl buddy, betting on me, playing me, wagering my honeymoon? What do you even call a honeymoon for three?"

Sybilla leaned against the door and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Iris, honey, there you go overthinking again."

"So what if it's three people?"

"Don't pull that catfight stuff with me."

"After all, your wedding venue was my pick, your bridal photos were my choice, and even the rings were bought by me."

She held out her hand and waved it in front of me, the matching ring flashing.

"Cartier. I bought two real ones and one fake. Guess whose hand the fake is on?"

She hooked up one corner of her mouth.

She slipped the ring off, casually, and dropped it into my palm.

"The one on my hand is the genuine one. You never even noticed. Here, returning it to its rightful owner."

Terry's peach-blossom eyes crinkled, and he reached out to lightly tap my forehead.

"Silly Iris, you didn't even care about your own wedding ring. Of course you got fooled."

I stood there, dazed.

The ring on my finger burned against my skin.

I'd thought the wedding was Terry's labor of love.

I put up with the cramped venue, put up with my eyes being shut in the photos.

But I never imagined it had all been Sybilla's doing.

Even the ring was fake.

"Oh, right, the bunny-ears outfit link and the lace outfit link, those were mine too. I picked them and sent them to you from his phone."

Sybilla threw more fuel on the fire, watching eagerly for my reaction.

In an instant, Terry's friends broke into loud laughter.

"That's our Sybilla, what an eye!"

"She knows exactly what Terry the dog likes! Scoring perks for the mutt."

"I've gotta pull that video back up, Iris in her lace limited edition."

Amid all the jeering.

My head buzzed again.

I'm a very traditional, good girl.

Back when I saw the link Terry sent.

I'd lain awake all night, shy and hesitant, before I finally worked up the nerve to pay for it.

Just to give him a surprise, to make his wish come true.

Now it was a joke.

But Terry paid no attention to how mortified I was. He scolded Sybilla with a laugh, "Poor you, working so hard. Enough already. Looking out for a buddy, isn't that just your job?"

I couldn't listen anymore. I turned to leave.

Sybilla lifted her chin in my direction and said, "Your wife's angry. Better hurry and go smooth things over."

"Nah. She's used to it by now."

Terry poured her a drink without looking up, then said to me, "Iris, get home safe. The bet isn't over yet. I'm staying at Sybilla's tonight."

It was nearly morning by the time I got home.

I opened my phone and checked the plane tickets to South Island I'd booked long ago. Departure tomorrow.

By chance, Sybilla's post scrolled past.

In the picture, Terry was asleep beside her.

His face relaxed, his arm draped over her and not letting go.

The caption read, "This puppy of mine sleeps like a mess. Feeling sorry for his wife for one second."

Mutual friends piled on with jokes.

"Now that's brotherhood that shares one pair of pants."

"Honestly, the two of you suit each other better. With that size difference, lying together like that, there's some serious tension."

After a while, Terry must have woken up, because he replied once.

"Don't talk nonsense. Iris has been in a bad mood these past few days."

Sybilla answered fast, "Iris, honey, she's great in every way. Just too suspicious. Bye now."

I refreshed again, and the post was gone.

I looked at the sky, faintly turning white.

I had someone help me prepare a set of divorce papers.

The next morning, I had barely reached the airport when I ran into Terry, hauling a stack of Sybilla's luggage.

The two of them came toward me side by side.

"Iris, Terry was worried you'd read too much into things, so he agreed to come to South Island with you. Go on, say thank you."

Terry smiled and clapped Sybilla on the shoulder, explaining to me.

"I just put in for leave. Once the honeymoon's over, I'll take her out to Napa Valley on my own."

I'd waited months for him to take leave and go to South Island with me.

Sybilla only needed five minutes.

Terry went on.

"First thing this morning we rushed over here. Nearly missed it."

He glanced at Sybilla and sighed.

"All her fault. Took three tries to wake her, and then she dragged out breakfast forever."

Sybilla shot him a look.

"That's because you made too much. Sandwiches, chicken soup. You feed me like a pig."

I kept my eyes down and said nothing.

Four years together, and Terry had never once made me breakfast.

He was awful in the mornings, so every day I got everything ready ahead of time.

Then coaxed him out of bed.

So it turned out it wasn't that he couldn't get up.

He just wouldn't get up ten minutes early for me.

When I stayed quiet.

Terry's brows drew together slightly.

"Iris, don't tell me you're actually angry."

"Terry, let's get divorced."

My voice was steady.

"Divorced? Did I upset you, babe?"

Terry blinked, already reaching to smooth it over on instinct.

But Sybilla snorted out a laugh.

"Iris, that's enough. Don't go threatening a dumb mutt like Terry with divorce."

"If he takes it seriously, you'll be crying with nowhere to cry."

"I remember back in college. You chased this guy for a whole year."

"Honestly, I'm impressed. If I hadn't been too proud to lower myself, I never would have..."

Terry's face darkened a shade.

"Iris Henson. You don't joke about divorce, understand?"

"I'm not threatening anyone. I really want to..."

Then Terry's phone rang.

He tapped to answer without noticing it was on speaker.

"Terry, honey, Mom heard you're taking Sybilla out on a trip? Now you take good care of my daughter-in-law-to-be."

"Sybilla, come here and let me see you. Are you wearing that bracelet I mailed you?"

"That was your fifth-birthday gift, twenty years ago, your mother and I picked it out for you together. Even back then I knew you'd be my son's wife."

Sybilla answered sweetly.

She held her jade bracelet up to the camera and gave it a little shake.

The blood drained from my face.

Before the wedding.

Terry had told me his parents were overseas and didn't pay him much attention.

So right up until the wedding was over.

I had never met Owen or Mike, let alone received a gift or a red envelope.

It had all been a lie.

Owen and Mike thought the woman Terry was marrying was Sybilla.

She was the daughter-in-law they truly approved of.

"Mom, we'll talk later..."

Terry looked flustered for a second and hung up.

"Iris, let me explain."

His mouth opened, but he seemed to have no idea how to begin.

"Never mind. I'll say it for you."

Sybilla sighed.

"Iris, don't blame Terry. He did think about introducing you to his parents, but he only tested the waters a little and his mom's heart acted up."

"As the younger ones, we have to think of them more."

I looked at the expensive jade bracelet on her wrist.

My heart went cold all the way through.

Sybilla saw where my eyes had landed, and after a moment's hesitation she said,

"It's fine, Iris. If you like it, just take it. His mom did say it was for the daughter-in-law, after all."

Then she started tugging the bracelet down.

She must have been in too much of a rush. A red ring rose on her pale wrist.

Terry's expression tightened.

"Sybilla, there's no need. What's yours is yours."

"Don't. I don't want it."

I reached out too, pressing down to stop her.

But the bracelet was too slick, and in the tug-of-war it slipped and shattered on the floor.

Sybilla's eyes reddened.

"Iris... I already said I'd give you the bracelet, so what are you making a scene for?"

"My mother passed early. She and his mom picked this out together, in memory of her. How could you break it?"

Halfway through her eyes were wet, and she drew a deep breath.

"Never mind. I won't stoop to arguing with a little girl like you."

But Terry seized my arm, his voice cold.

"She won't argue. But you're going to apologize."

"She's the one who didn't hold it properly."

I answered as calmly as I could.

"Iris Henson. I've spoiled you so much you've turned suspicious and thin-skinned and quick to lose your temper. Isn't that right?"

Terry's face was hard.

Something cold surfaced in those gentle, pretty eyes of his.

I pressed my lips together and shook his hand off.

But instead of easing his grip.

He threw me down to the floor.

In that instant the shards of jade dug into my hands.

They cut a mess of tiny wounds.

"Iris, are you okay?"

Sybilla cried out.

Staring at the countless little beads of blood on my hands.

Terry froze for a second too, his hand reaching out on instinct.

"Let me see. Why are you bleeding..."

The next second, the boarding call sounded.

I paid them no attention and walked straight onto the plane.

But I never expected Terry to follow me to my hotel and book the empty room next door.

He bought a bag of first-aid supplies and gauze, and clumsily set about bandaging my hand.

I'd barely held out my hand when a shriek came through the wall.

"Ugh, there's a bug in this room. Terry, help!"

"Aren't you always the brave one? Scared of a bug? Pathetic."

Terry said it wasn't a big deal, and rushed over anyway.

He didn't even set the iodine down properly.

It spilled across my white dress, staining a whole patch of it.

When Mom was leaving us, she said I looked pretty in white, and told me to wear it when I sent her off.

Now I could only wear black.

I changed my clothes.

I dug the little box holding Mom's ashes out of my bag.

Ready to go to the cemetery I'd chosen long ago.

Just then I ran into Terry coming out of the room next door, hair a little messed up.

One button on his shirt was gone.

"Sybilla and I got into it. That little lunatic."

His ears were red as he offered the explanation.

But I didn't take any of it in.

Looking at the box of ashes in my arms.

Something like guilt and pity surfaced in his eyes.

"I rented a car. Let me take you."

I checked the ride app. I was over a hundred in line.

So I nodded and agreed.

I hadn't expected Sybilla to be in the car too.

Or to follow me all the way to the cemetery I'd chosen.

The sky was dark, and soon it began to rain.

We climbed the mountain side by side.

Sybilla suddenly spoke low in my ear.

"You know, I've always wanted to ask Terry something."

"If he and I hadn't been fighting back then, would he ever have accepted your confession?"

"When your mother entrusted you to him, did she know you were the other woman?"

"Did she know that on the busiest day of her funeral, Terry never showed up, because I'd changed my mind and ended up in the hospital?"

I went cold all over, staring at her in disbelief.

Wanting to know if this was another one of her games.

"I'm not lying to you. This time it's real."

Everything I'd swallowed these past days broke loose at once.

I swung my hand and slapped her, hard enough to knock her down.

"Iris, what are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

Terry roared at me and shoved me away.

The stone steps were too slick. Holding the box of ashes, I lost my footing and tumbled down who knows how many steps.

Before I blacked out.

I saw Terry checking the cut on Sybilla's face over and over, then carry her hurriedly back down the mountain.

When I woke, the rain was still falling.

I staggered to my feet and wiped the blood from my temple.

I cradled the mud-splattered box of ashes carefully against me.

I canceled my flight back to Elmwood City.

Mom, I'm giving up everything in Elmwood City.

I'll stay here with you, in this place that faces the sea, where it's spring all year round.

Even though my whole body hurt, I followed the arrangements I'd booked in advance.

Limping, I laid Mom to rest.

Leaning against her cold headstone, I finally couldn't hold back my tears.

When Terry missed my mother's funeral.

I'd told myself that at least he'd be beside me when she was finally laid to rest, so I wouldn't be alone again.

I never thought the man who once said he'd always be by my side would let me down again and again.

When it was all over.

I took a train to the town where Mom grew up.

I rented a house with a view of the sea, and made up my mind to start a new life.

......

That night, back at the hotel, Terry still hadn't cooled off.

"Iris, what the hell was wrong with you today?"

"Look at Sybilla's face. Look what you did to it."

Still talking, he pushed open the door.

The room was empty. My luggage was gone.

Terry froze for a moment, then hurried down to the front desk, only to be told I'd already left.

"Oh, right, Mr. Swanson. Miss Henson asked me to give you this."

Terry took the thin sheet of paper.

It was a signed set of divorce papers.