He looked at the shirt, the boots, then back at me. And he began to speak softly, almost in a whisper, as if no one else should hear. — I had a plan, — he said.
— For a long time. It had to be done. He thought he could get away with it.
But he was wrong. I did it today — on our wedding day — because who would suspect the groom who spent the whole evening next to his bride? — And when they ask, I’ll say I was with you all night.
No one will connect it to me. No one will suspect the bride’s husband. — Who was he?
— I finally whispered. He lowered his head and spoke a name — familiar, yet distant, heavy with old debts and grudges. Then he said something that made the world collapse around me:
— I didn’t want you to find out.
But now it’s too late. You have to understand — I didn’t do it without reason. He had to pay.
And today was the perfect day — no one will suspect the groom. I stood there, feeling the life I had imagined crumble within me. Everything I thought was real was just a shell — and inside it lay dark, terrifying secrets.
He came closer, saw the shock in my eyes, and whispered softly, almost pleadingly:
— I wanted to protect us. It’s better this way. Trust me… just this once.
