The Soundtrack to Their Pleasure
On our wedding day, just as the priest prompted us to exchange rings, Silas, my groom, spoke up.
"Actually, Juliana and I are already together."
I froze, my shock plain on my face, but he didn’t even flinch.
He said it as casually as if he were talking about the weather.
"Last month, while you were in that emergency surgery, we slept together. In the on-call lounge, right next to your office."
"She couldn't help but cry out, and you thought one of the nurses was sick. You were worried about her for days."
"Later, when she stood beside you, her legs were still shaking."
In that instant, my blood ran cold.
I turned my head, the movement stiff and mechanical, to find my sister in the crowd below. She was beaming.
She held up her bouquet, cheering my name.
Just an hour ago, she’d been on her knees, tearfully adjusting the train of my dress and telling me I had to be the happiest woman alive.
"Even moments ago, while you were in the bridal suite getting your makeup done, she was in my lap."
"She was so worked up, her nails dug into my back and drew blood."
He said all this casually, his eyes fixed on the ring in his hand—the one he was supposed to put on my finger.
"Cora Valerius," he said, "now you know."
"Whether we get married or not is up to you."
...