The day I was meant to say “I do” took a surreal turn when Emily slipped a folded note into my hand just before we sat down for the ceremony reception. Five simple words sent my heart into freefall: “Say no at the altar.”
Moments earlier, we’d been planning our perfect wedding—browsing venues, excitedly imagining our life together. In those rare, tender moments, Emily teased that I’d be the “luckiest guy in the world” when she finally walked down the aisle toward me. Everything felt perfect.
Still, I was taken aback by the note. “What?” I whispered, confusion and panic stirring inside me. Her only answer was: “Just trust me.”
When the officiant asked—“Do you take Emily to be your lawfully wedded wife?”—I obeyed her unspoken plea. My voice cracked as I whispered “No.” A murmur of shock swept through the guests.
Then Emily’s stepmother, Margaret, summoned attention with a slow, mocking clap. A victorious grin spread across her face. It became clear something was wrong—this was no romantic plot twist. Emily had sensed danger. The note wasn’t a joke—it was a warning.
The wedding halted. I looked at Emily, confusion contending with dread. I didn’t yet understand her plan—but I knew she had saved us both from something far worse. The story leaves us hanging there, at the edge of revelation, with trust elevated above ritual and love asserted even through the most bewildering moments.
