The rest of us danced harder, laughed louder, and toasted to Emily’s brilliant, bloodless coup. The reception was everything a wedding should be: joyful, chaotic, and full of people who genuinely wanted to celebrate love.
Later, I found Emily near the bar, champagne in hand, eyes twinkling like the gold thread in her gown.
“That was some 4D chess you played,” I told her.
She smiled.
“Revenge stories taught me well.”
Linda appeared beside us, raising her glass high. “To the bride! Who knows when to wear red and when to raise hell.”
We toasted, and I realized that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is simply refuse to play someone else’s game.
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