On the day I was supposed to say “I do,” three of my groomsmen stood up and objected—out loud, in front of everyone. I thought it was a joke until one of them told me to look at her hand. What I saw shook me to the core. And the person who stayed silent? That betrayal cut the deepest.

The ceremony had started perfectly. Ellie looked breathtaking in her satin gown, her veil glowing in the afternoon light. I stood at the altar, surrounded by friends, lost in her green eyes as the priest began. But just as he asked if anyone objected, Jake, Nate, and James stepped forward.

At first, I laughed, thinking it was a prank. But they weren’t smiling. “Look at her ring finger,” Nate said, his voice like ice. Confused, I took Ellie’s hand—she flinched—and there it was: a tattoo. Tiny, discreet, and freshly inked. “T.J.” Not my initials.

Before I could speak, James said, “Now look at his hand.” I turned to Tyler, my best man. On his finger? “E.B.” Ellie’s initials. My knees buckled. Tyler confessed they’d once been in love—and never truly ended it. I looked at Ellie, shaking. “Secret tattoos? While I was planning our wedding?” That’s when I knew—this wedding was over.