Jenny couldn’t sleep a wink throughout the night. She spent the dark hours pacing her bedroom floor, her mind playing and replaying the images from the afternoon like a film she could neither pause nor stop. Every detail was etched in her memory so vividly that she didn’t need to look at the recording on her phone.

She sat for a moment on the chair by her dressing table, but the seat offered no comfort. Her body felt restless, her thoughts louder than the ticking of the clock on the wall. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind — “Always choose yourself first, Jenny. Give yourself priority.” — but she had always found it impossible to follow that advice when it came to Florence. No one could explain why she loved her younger sister so much, not even Jenny herself. It was a love so obvious that, as she often joked, even a blind man could see it.

She lived to make her family happy. That was where her joy came from — not from friends, not from strangers, but from the people she shared blood with. And yet, the reward for her sacrifice, for her loyalty and kindness, had been betrayal. Her love had been mistaken for weakness, her generosity for naivety.

Jenny had never been one for many friends. She saw no need for them. To her, family was everything — her confidants, her companions, her reason to smile. No one outside could give her the deep sense of belonging she felt within her own household. Or at least, that’s what she had believed until yesterday.

A sharp knock broke her thoughts.

“It’s your wedding day, Jenny! You have to come out of bed!” Betty, her childhood friend and one of her bridesmaids, called through the door.

Jenny blinked. She hadn’t realised she’d been sitting on the bed for hours. Wiping her eyes quickly, she pushed herself to her feet and walked into the bathroom. The mirror reflected the toll of the night — her eyes swollen and rimmed red.

“Damn,” she whispered under her breath.

No, she told herself. A bath will fix this. Everything will be fine once I’m ready. She splashed cold water on her face, forcing a smile in the mirror, but her own reflection refused to believe it. She had only a few hours left before she was meant to walk down the aisle, yet she felt as though the ground beneath her was splitting open.

Before she could finish getting ready, the door opened without a knock. Her mother and Florence swept in, faces glowing with excitement, a large box of jewellery balanced between them.

“Oh, Jenny…” her mother’s smile faltered when she saw her daughter’s eyes. “What happened to you? Didn’t you rest like I told you?”

Jenny opened her mouth, but no words came.

“I’ll get some ice for you,” her mother said quickly. “Dip your face in it — it’ll help with the swelling.” She set the jewellery box on the bed and hurried out.

Florence stood there, hands on her hips, giving Jenny a questioning look. “What’s wrong with you? You should be happy — you’re marrying a handsome, rich, understanding man like Robert. Most women would kill for this chance.”

Jenny said nothing.

Florence frowned. “Fine, don’t talk. We’ll fix it with make-up.” She sat on the edge of the bed, unzipping her make-up kit, acting as though the day was nothing more than a regular morning.

Jenny watched her sister’s face, searching for even the slightest flicker of guilt. There was nothing. No shame, no nervousness — just casual concentration. The sight made Jenny’s stomach twist.

She had covered for Florence countless times in the past, keeping her parents from discovering her affairs with strangers. But this was different. This was Robert. This was betrayal twice over.

Her mind warred with itself. Part of her wanted to let it go, to keep the peace, to preserve the family’s dignity. The other part wanted justice — not whispered behind closed doors, but shouted in the open where everyone could see.

Her mother returned with a bowl of ice water, handing it to Jenny.

“Perfect timing, Mum,” Florence chirped. “Jenny, dip your face in this — you’ll look fresh again.”

Jenny knelt, lowering her face towards the bowl, but her thoughts were elsewhere. A cold unease settled in her chest. What if this wasn’t a one-time thing? What if Florence continued to sneak around with Robert after they were married? Could she live with that?

Her fears deepened when Florence spoke again, in a tone so casual it made Jenny’s skin crawl.

“I know you’ll miss us, so I told Robert I’ll stay with you for a while after the wedding. Just until you get used to the new place. He thought it was a great idea.”

The bowl slipped from Jenny’s hands, shattering on the floor. Her heart dropped like the broken pieces at her feet.

In her mind, she screamed: Of course he thought it was a great idea. He wants you there.

She couldn’t tell her mother she didn’t want Florence to come — not without revealing everything. And yet, the thought of living under the same roof as them both, seeing them exchange glances across the dinner table, hearing the sound of his voice in her sister’s room…

Her jaw tightened. I can’t let this go. I must expose them.

She didn’t know exactly how or when, but the decision was made. If they could betray her in secret, then she could destroy their false happiness in public.

And maybe, just maybe, that would be the only way she could walk down the aisle — with the truth standing beside her, instead of a lie dressed in a groom’s suit.