The ceremony was flawless. The bride radiated as she moved forward, her veil catching the soft light, casting a delicate shimmer across her features. Guests watched, tears welling in their eyes, while the groom’s nervous smile reflected the love and anticipation he felt. Everything seemed suspended in a perfect, timeless moment.
Then, an unexpected sound cut through the quiet. The doors at the back of the room creaked open, turning heads instantly. Silence fell, replaced by a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
A woman in white stepped down the aisle—not the bride, but someone who seemed determined to command the room. Her presence was magnetic, every step purposeful. The groom paled, his earlier joy draining away, while the bride froze, her heart racing as she tried to comprehend the scene.
Whispers ran through the crowd, disbelief and speculation mingling. The interloper’s calm, unreadable expression heightened the tension as she neared the altar, locking her gaze on the groom.
Then, the words cut through the charged silence:
“I need to object.”
Shock rippled through the room. The bride’s eyes widened, confusion and anger mixing in her gaze. The groom struggled to process the moment, his thoughts scattered. The woman remained composed, her eyes softening as she turned briefly to the bride. “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. “But there are things you both need to know before you take this step.”
The bride gripped her bouquet tightly, knuckles white, and after a long pause whispered, “Go on, then.”
