The guests went silent. Danny stepped forward and handed Declan the real rings. Simone’s face went white, then red. She took one step backward. Declan didn’t play the recording in front of everyone. He didn’t need to. He simply told her, quietly enough for only the wedding party to hear, that he had saved every message she had sent him over the past seven months, and that he had answered none of them.

He had shown them to me at three that morning, after I sent him the recording. Late-night texts. Photos. Invitations to meet for drinks. Simone had even asked him to meet her the night before the wedding. Declan had shut her down every time, but he never told me because he didn’t want to hurt me before the wedding. We agreed that morning that it was the last secret either of us would ever keep from the other.

The hotel manager quietly escorted Simone out a side door. Tori followed her, crying. The other two bridesmaids stayed frozen in place until I told them they could leave too. Danny brought me a glass of water. Maeve stepped up beside me in a borrowed bouquet and became my maid of honor on the spot. The officiant smiled, cleared his throat, and asked, “Shall we try that part again?”

We said our vows by the harbor with the real rings and my dress spotless. Maeve gave the best toast I’ve ever heard. Tori sent me a long apology the next week, admitting she had laughed because she was afraid of Simone. I accepted it, slowly. Simone never reached out. The costume rings are in a frame on our bookshelf. A year later, Declan and I renewed our promise on that same dock. This time, every person standing beside me had earned it.