The Perfumed Betrayal

I took leave to be the maid of honor at my best friend's wedding. The moment I landed, Rachel Wendt showered me with lavish gifts: the newest flagship model smartphone, designer perfume, and other branded gifts.

"A little gift for you," Rachel said. "Even though I'm getting married, you're still the most important person in my life!"

I was deeply moved.

Early the next morning, I got up at dawn, changed into my maid of honor gown, and went to find her.

Rachel was having her makeup done. When she saw me, she excitedly waved at me. But the moment I went in closer, her face instantly turned icy.

"You tramp! Get the hell out of my wedding!"

I froze on the spot.

"Are you for real, Rachel? It's your big day. Come on, stop with the act. You're scaring me."

I forced a tentative laugh. I went in closer to Rachel, placing my hand on her arm, trying to end this very realistic joke with a casual touch.

Rachel instantly stepped back, keeping her distance. "Who's joking around? I'm not. Get lost right now, or I'm calling security."

My hand stiffened mid-air. My mind went blank as I desperately replayed what I might have done wrong.

Even when Rachel picked her phone up to call security, I was still trying to wrap my head around what happened. I could barely breathe.

I asked her, "Have I done something wrong? Or is there some custom here that I don't know about and have offended you? I'll apologize. Don't get angry, please."

Rachel had married far away, more than 800 kilometers from our city. It was only normal that there were some customs that I did not understand.

Clinging to that possibility like a lifeline, I looked at her sincerely.

"Please, talk to me."

Rachel merely glared at me. "There aren't any customs. I'm already being merciful by not spelling it out for you.

"Security! Take her away! I no longer want to see you, ever!"

Just the day before, we had been lying in the same bed, talking about childhood memories.

She had been so worried that I was tired from traveling that she even booked me a room to rest.

We had only been apart for three hours. Why had her attitude changed so drastically?

As the security guard approached me, I shook my head, looking at Rachel pleadingly. "I don't know what I've done wrong. You won't tell me either. I'll still apologize either way. I'm sorry.

"Today is the most important day of your life. Can you please let me stay? I'm your only maid of honor. What happens if I'm gone?"

Rachel immediately went up to me and tugged at my gown. "Take this off at once!"

She got her makeup artist to appear and huffed, "Any woman can be my maid of honor. You're not the only option here.

"Lindsay Shields, get lost at once! I have no time to waste with you. My makeup isn't done yet! You're going to ruin my wedding, you tramp!"

I held on tight to my gown to stop it from being torn open.

Being called a tramp drained all the strength in my body. I looked at Rachel listlessly.

Helpless, I took out a handmade silk fan that I had stayed up several nights crafting, placing it on the table.

"May you have a happy wedding. I'll return the gown to you in a while."

Rachel eagerly picked up the fan.

I thought that this situation was about to turn around, so I said, "I worked on that fan for a long time. I even burned my fingers. It's in the style that you like."

The next second, Rachel threw the fan on the ground, smashing it to pieces.

She pointed at the door and barked icily, "Get out!"

I returned to my room and got out of the maid of honor's gown before sending Rachel a message, [I'm at the hotel. If you need me, just call me anytime.]

I realized Rachel had blocked me, clear with the red exclamation mark next to the message; the message was not sent.

I lay on the bed, dejected and confused. What happened?

Soon, Rachel got the security to escort me out.

Dragging my suitcase through the freezing wind, I stared at the wedding welcome photos displayed outside.

I called the groom, Daniel Rice. I had to know why. Even if I was going to die, I wanted to die understanding the truth.

The call connected.

Daniel, who had always been polite and courteous around me, suddenly spoke in a threatening tone.