My predator cousin made out with every boyfriend at family weddings until I brought my new guy who’s actually her probation officer. I’m Megan and before you ask, yes, I really did this. And no, I don’t feel bad about it. Let me back up. My cousin Amber has been the family golden child since we were kids.
Perfect blonde hair, perfect smile, perfect grades that our grandmother never shut up about. But here’s what nobody wanted to acknowledge. Amber had this thing she did at weddings. Every single family wedding without fail, she would find my boyfriend and she would kiss him. Not like a friendly peck on the cheek.
I’m talking full-on making out in coat closets, behind the venue, in parked cars, anywhere she could get them alone. The first time it happened, I was 19. His name was Tyler. We’d been dating for 8 months, and I was completely in love with him in that desperate, all-consuming way. You love someone when you’re 19 and don’t know any better. My cousin Jenna was getting married, and it was this huge outdoor wedding at a vineyard in Napa.
Tyler wore a suit for the first time ever, and I remember thinking he looked like someone I could actually have a future with. During the reception, Tyler said he was going to get some air. He’d been drinking a bit, seemed dizzy. I was dancing with my aunt Patricia, so I just nodded. 20 minutes later, I went looking for him. I found them behind the wine seller building.
Amber had her hands in his hair, and Tyler had his hands on her waist, and they were kissing like the world was ending. When I gasped, they pulled apart. Tyler looked confused. Amber looked at me with this expression I’ll never forget. Not guilty, not sorry, just this small, satisfied smile. “Oh my god, Megan,” she said, touching her lips like she was wiping away evidence. “I am so sorry. He came on to me. I swear. I tried to push him away, but he was so insistent.
” Tyler immediately started apologizing, saying he was drunk, saying he didn’t know what happened, saying Amber was lying and she’d pulled him out there. I stood there in my bridesmaid dress, lavender silk that cost me $300 I didn’t have, and I felt like my entire body was shutting down. My mom found us. Then Jenna, the bride, found us. Then Jenna’s new husband, and suddenly half the wedding was standing there watching me cry.
And here’s the thing about family dynamics. Here’s the thing about being the quiet cousin, while Amber was the charismatic one. Everyone believed her. Tyler must have misread her friendliness, my mother said later. in the car ride home. Amber would never do something like that deliberately. She’s not that kind of girl.
I broke up with Tyler that night. He sent me 47 text messages over the next week. I blocked his number and tried to move on. But Amber’s smile haunted me. That small knowing smile that said she’d won something. The second time it happened, I thought maybe I’d imagine the first time. Maybe I’d been paranoid. Maybe Tyler really had come on to her and I’d blamed the wrong person.
His name was Chris. I was 22. We’d been together for a year and we were talking about moving in together. My uncle Raymond was getting married to his longtime partner in this beautiful ceremony in Portland. Chris and I drove up together singing along to terrible radio songs, making plans for our future. The wedding was perfect. The vows made me cry. Chris held my hand through the whole thing. At the reception, I went to the bathroom.
When I came back, Chris wasn’t at our table. I checked the bar, the dance floor, the outdoor patio. I found him in the back hallway near the kitchen with Amber pressed against the wall, her leg hitched up around his hip, their mouths locked together. This time, I didn’t gasp. I just stood there. When they finally noticed me, Amber did the same thing. touched her lips, looked at me with wide, innocent eyes.
Megan, I’m so sorry. He told me you guys were having problems. He said you were on a break. I thought we’re not on a break. I said quietly. Chris stammered. Babe, I don’t know what happened. She grabbed me and I was just trying to push her off. You had your hands on her ass. Chris again. Family got involved again.
Amber cried and said Chris had pursued her again. Everyone believed her because Amber was Amber and I was just Megan and surely Amber wouldn’t do this twice. Maybe you’re picking the wrong guys. My aunt Lisa suggested gently. Maybe you need to look at the common denominator here. The common denominator wasn’t me, it was Amber. But I couldn’t prove it.
And honestly, after Chris, I started to wonder if maybe they were right. Maybe I was picking terrible guys who couldn’t resist my gorgeous cousin. The third time it happened, I knew for sure. His name was David. I was 25. We’d been dating for 2 years, and he’d just proposed to me 3 weeks before my cousin Michelle’s wedding. I was wearing my engagement ring, this simple gold band with a tiny diamond that David had saved up for months to buy.
I didn’t even bring David as my date. He came separately because he had to work that morning. He showed up right before the ceremony, kissed my cheek, told me I looked beautiful. During the cocktail hour, I was talking to my grandmother about wedding plans. David said he was going to get a drink.
I watched him walk to the bar. I literally watched him. 15 minutes later, I went to find him. They were in the coat room. Amber’s dress was hiked up. David’s jacket was on the floor. I didn’t cry. This time, I just stared. Amber saw me first. And this time, she didn’t even try to hide the smile. This time, she just shrugged.
“I’m sorry, Megan,” she said, but she wasn’t sorry at all. David tried to explain. Tried to say she’d pulled him in there. That he’d been trying to leave, but I saw his hand on her thigh. I saw the lipstick on his collar. I took off my engagement ring right there. Dropped it on the floor between them. Walked out. That was 2 years ago.
Since then, I haven’t brought anyone to a family wedding. I’ve gone alone, sat at the singles table, smiled politely while Amber brought different boyfriends, and everyone cooed over how perfect she was. I stopped dating seriously, stopped trusting anyone enough to introduce them to my family. My therapist said I had trust issues.
My best friend, Kayla, said I needed to confront Amber directly. But how do you confront someone that everyone believes is an angel? Then 3 months ago, I found out something interesting. I was at a coffee shop near my apartment working on my laptop when I overheard two women talking at the next table. One of them mentioned Amber’s name. Not a common name in my city, but I figured it was probably someone else. Then the woman said, “Yeah, Amber Westbrook. Probation.
Can you believe it? She always seemed so put together.” I froze. Amber Westbrook, my cousin on probation. I know I shouldn’t have, but I leaned closer and listened. The woman was a court clerk talking to her friend about her day. She mentioned something about fraud charges, community service, regular check-ins with a probation officer. My perfect cousin, Amber, on probation.
I went home and did what any normal person would do. I internet stalked the hell out of her. It took some digging, but I found it. 6 months ago, Amber had been charged with credit card fraud. She’d been using fake credit cards to buy designer clothes, expensive jewelry, all the things that made her look like she had her life together.
She’d pleaded guilty, got probation instead of jail time because it was her first offense, and she cried prettily in court. None of the family knew. She’d kept it completely secret. I sat there in my apartment staring at the court documents on my screen and I felt something shift inside me. For the first time in years, I had leverage, but I didn’t know what to do with it. Then my cousin Rachel announced her engagement. Wedding in 3 months.
I got the invitation in the mail. Thick cream card stock with gold lettering. I almost threw it away. I’d already decided I wasn’t going to go. But then I thought about Amber. I thought about her showing up to Rachel’s wedding with some new boyfriend, smiling her perfect smile, probably already planning which groomsmen she’d target.
And I thought, “What if I brought someone she couldn’t touch? What if I brought her probation officer?” The idea was insane, completely insane. But once it got into my head, I couldn’t let it go. I spent two days trying to talk myself out of it. It was petty. It was ridiculous. It was potentially illegal. But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it. I needed to meet her probation officer first. I found his name through more internet digging.
Officer Marcus Brennan. He worked for the county probation department. I found a photo of him from a community outreach event. He was probably in his mid-30s. Dark hair, serious expression, the kind of face that meant business. Now I just needed to actually meet him. I’m not proud of what I did next. I called the probation office pretending to be someone interested in volunteer opportunities.
I found out when Officer Brennan would be at the county building for public office hours. I showed up. The county building smelled like old paper and desperation. I waited in the lobby for 40 minutes before I saw him. He was walking down the hallway with a stack of folders looking tired.
Officer Brennan, I called out. He turned. Yes. I walked up to him, my heart pounding. Hi, my name is Megan. I know this is going to sound strange, but I need to talk to you about one of your probationers, Amber Westbrook. His expression immediately became guarded. I can’t discuss active cases with. She’s my cousin, I interrupted. And I’m not asking you to tell me about her case.
I’m asking you to do something that might sound completely insane. He stared at me. I’m listening. I took a breath. There’s a family wedding in 3 months. Amber will be there, and I need you to come with me as my date. The silence that followed was excruciating. I’m sorry, what? I know how this sounds, I said quickly. But hear me out.
Amber has been sabotaging my relationships for years. Every time I bring a boyfriend to a family wedding, she goes after him. She’s done it three times. Three different guys. Everyone thinks I’m making it up or picking bad boyfriends, but it’s her. She does it deliberately. Officer Brennan’s expression didn’t change.
And you think bringing her probation officer to a wedding as your date will somehow what? Stop her? I think it’ll make her uncomfortable enough that she won’t try anything. And honestly, after what she’s put me through, I think she deserves to be uncomfortable. He shifted the folders in his arms. Megan, Megan, what you’re describing is using my professional position to intimidate someone. That’s not appropriate. She’s not a good person, I said.
And I’m not asking you to threaten her or even mention her probation. I’m just asking you to attend a wedding as my guest. If she happens to be uncomfortable because you’re there, that’s on her. Why would I agree to this? It was a fair question. I’d thought about this part because I’ll make a donation to the probation department’s youth outreach program. $500. His eyebrows raised slightly. You’re trying to bribe me.
I’m offering to support a good cause in exchange for a few hours of your time. You don’t have to do anything inappropriate. Just show up, have some cake, maybe dance with me once or twice. That’s it. He studied me for a long moment. This is the most unusual request I’ve ever received. Is that a no? I didn’t say that. My heart jumped.
“So, you’ll think about it?” “I’ll think about it,” he said carefully, but I’m not making any promises. He gave me his email address, told me to send him the details about the wedding, said he’d let me know in a week. I left the county building feeling like I’d just done something either brilliant or catastrophically stupid. 5 days later, I got an email against my better judgment. I’ll attend the wedding with you.
Ground rules, we maintain appropriate boundaries. I won’t discuss Miss Westbrook’s probation case, and if she asks why I’m there, we tell the truth that you invited me as your date. I won’t lie or mislead anyone about my presence. If you agree to these terms, send me the wedding details. I read the email three times.
Then I transferred $500 to the youth outreach program and sent Officer Brennan the wedding information. This was really happening. The next two and a half months were surreal. I exchanged a few more emails with Officer Brennan. Marcus, he told me to call him when we weren’t in official settings. He asked about dress code. I sent him the invitation details.
We agreed to meet for coffee a week before the wedding to make sure we could at least have a conversation without it being completely awkward. Meanwhile, I RSVPd to Rachel’s wedding with a plus one. My mother called me immediately. You’re bringing someone, she asked, surprised. Who? A friend? I said vaguely. His name is Marcus. A friend or a boyfriend? We’ll see. I could hear the smile in her voice. I’m glad you’re not letting what happened with David stop you from putting yourself out there.
I felt a pang of guilt, but then I thought about Amber, and the guilt faded. I didn’t tell anyone else in the family. Not my dad, not my sister Emma, not even Kayla. I was afraid if I said it out loud, I’d chickenen out. The coffee meeting with Marcus was less awkward than I expected.
He showed up in jeans and a button-down shirt, looking less intimidating than he had in the county building. We talked about normal things. I told him about my job as a graphic designer. He told me about becoming a probation officer after his brother got arrested as a teenager. Changed his life, Marcus said, stirring sugar into his coffee. The officer who supervised his probation actually cared about him.
Helped him get into a trade school. My brother’s a welder now, doing really well. That’s why I do this job. I felt another pang of guilt. Here was this genuinely good person, and I was using him for revenge against my cousin. You’re having second thoughts, Marcus observed. How can you tell? You’ve been staring at your coffee for 3 minutes without drinking it. I looked up at him.
Is what I’m doing terrible? He considered this. Do you want my honest answer? Yes. I think your cousin probably deserves to feel uncomfortable at this wedding, but I also think you need to be prepared for this not to go the way you’re imagining. Revenge rarely feels as good as we think it will. You sound like my therapist.
I spend a lot of time around therapists. He smiled slightly, but I already agreed to go with you, so we might as well see it through. Just promise me one thing. What? If things get out of hand, we leave. I’m not interested in being part of a huge family drama. Deal. We shook hands. His grip was firm and warm. The week before the wedding, I went dress shopping with my sister Emma.
She’s 3 years younger than me, still in college, and completely oblivious to the whole Amber situation because she’d been studying abroad when most of it happened. “So, who’s this Marcus guy?” she asked as I tried on a deep blue dress. “Just someone I’ve been seeing.” “Mom says, “He’s a friend. We’re figuring it out.” Emma grinned. “Is he hot?” I thought about Marcus’ serious eyes and the way he’d smiled over coffee. “He’s interesting.
That’s not an answer.” “Fine. Yes, he’s attractive.” And Amber’s going to be at this wedding. I went still. So, so I might not have been around for the David thing or the Chris thing, but I was around when Tyler happened. I remember how Amber looked at you afterward, like she’d won something. Emma’s voice went quiet. I’ve always thought she did it on purpose, you know. I just could never prove it.
I turned to look at my sister. You believe me? Of course, I believe you. Amber’s always been weird about you. Competitive in this gross way, like she needs to prove she’s better than you at everything, including stealing your boyfriends. I felt tears prick my eyes.
Why didn’t you ever say anything? Because I was 17 and nobody listens to 17-year-olds. And by the time I could have said something, you’d stopped bringing guys around. Emma squeezed my shoulder. But if this Marcus guy is important to you, maybe you should warn him about Amber. I already did, I said, which wasn’t technically a lie. I bought the blue dress.
It was more expensive than I could afford, but I wanted to look good. Wanted Amber to see me walk in with someone and feel something. Jealous maybe, or worried. The night before the wedding, I couldn’t sleep. I kept imagining different scenarios. Amber pulling Marcus aside and asking what he was doing there.
Amber trying to kiss him and Marcus revealing who he was in front of everyone. my whole family finding out what I’d done. At 2:00 in the morning, I almost texted Marcus to call the whole thing off, but I didn’t.
The wedding was at a hotel in the city, one of those fancy places with crystal chandeliers and marble floors. I met Marcus in the lobby. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit that fit him perfectly. And when he saw me in my blue dress, something shifted in his expression. You look nice, he said. You too. We stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Ready?” he asked. “No, but let’s do it anyway.” The ceremony was in a ballroom on the second floor. We walked in together, and I immediately felt eyes on us.
My mother spotted me first, her face lighting up when she saw I had someone with me. She waved. Then I saw Amber. She was sitting three rows ahead with her current boyfriend, some guy I’d never met. She was wearing a pink dress that probably cost more than my rent. Her blonde hair perfectly curled. She turned when she heard the murmur of people noticing us, and her eyes landed on Marcus.
For just a second, her perfect composure cracked. Her eyes went wide, her mouth opened slightly. Then she recovered, smiled brightly, and turned back to face the front. My heart was racing. Marcus leaned down and whispered, “She saw me. I noticed. We took our seats near the back. The ceremony started. Rachel looked beautiful in her wedding dress, crying as she read her vows.
Her fianceé looked at her like she hung the moon. It was sweet and genuine and everything a wedding should be. I tried to focus on that instead of on Amber’s back three rows ahead. After the ceremony, we moved to the reception hall. Cocktail hour. People mingling. My mother descended on us immediately. Megan and this must be Marcus.
She hugged me then extended her hand to Marcus. I’m Linda. Megan’s mother. It’s so wonderful to meet you. You two Mrs. Westbrook. Oh, please call me Linda. How did you two meet? I’d prepared for this question. through work, I said smoothly. Marcus was consulting on a project. Marcus nodded. Also, not technically a lie. Everything we were saying was true from a certain angle. My mother beamed.
Well, I’m so glad Megan finally brought someone to one of these things. After everything with David, she caught herself, but that’s all in the past now. More family members came over. My dad, who shook Marcus’ hand and asked what he did for a living. Marcus said he worked for the county, which was true. My aunt Patricia, who looked Marcus up and down approvingly. My cousin Jenna, whose wedding had been the Tyler disaster, who pulled me aside.
He seems nice, she whispered. Way better than Tyler. Thanks. Just be careful, okay, with Amber here. So, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the pattern. That was something. We made it through cocktail hour without incident. Marcus was surprisingly good at small talk, charming without being overbearing. He asked my relatives questions about themselves, laughed at my uncle’s terrible jokes, complimented my grandmother’s brooch.
You’re good at this, I murmured as we walked toward our reception table. At what? Pretending to be my date? He gave me an odd look. Who says I’m pretending? Before I could process that, Amber appeared. She materialized next to us like a shark, sensing blood in the water, her boyfriend trailing behind her. Up close, I could see the tension in her smile. Megan, she said brightly.
I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. It’s recent, I said. Amber’s eyes moved to Marcus. I’m Amber. Megan’s cousin. Marcus, he said. He didn’t offer his hand. What do you do, Marcus? I work for the county. Doing what? There was an edge to her voice. She knew something was off. She just couldn’t figure out what. Social services, Marcus said smoothly. Helping people get their lives back on track.
Amber’s smile tightened. That’s nice. Her boyfriend, a tall guy with an expensive watch, cleared his throat. I’m Brandon. We all exchanged awkward pleasantries. The whole time, Amber kept staring at Marcus like she was trying to place him. I could see the wheels turning in her head. Then the wedding coordinator called everyone to their tables.
Amber and Brandon walked away, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. She definitely recognizes me, Marcus said quietly. But she can’t say anything without explaining why she knows you. This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Megan. I know. Our table was in the middle of the room. We ended up sitting with some of Rachel’s college friends and a couple of distant cousins I barely knew. The dinner was salmon or chicken, and the speeches were touching.
Rachel’s mate of honor cried through her entire toast. I kept glancing at Amber’s table. She was barely touching her food, and she kept whispering to Brandon, who looked confused. After dinner, the dancing started. Marcus surprised me by actually being a decent dancer. We swayed to some slow song I didn’t recognize, and for a moment, I forgot why we were really there.
Forgot about Amber and revenge and probation officers. Thank you for doing this, I said. You already thanked me multiple times. I know, but Megan, he looked down at me. I’m here because I wanted to come. The donation was nice, but honestly, I would have come anyway. Why? He was quiet for a moment. Because what your cousin did to you is cruel and because you seemed like you needed someone in your corner for once.
I felt something warm bloom in my chest, something dangerous. Then I saw Amber walking toward us. Incoming, I murmured. Marcus didn’t turn around. Let her come. Amber tapped my shoulder. Mind if I cut in? It wasn’t really a question. Before I could answer, she’d positioned herself between me and Marcus. You don’t mind, right, Megan? Amber’s smile was sharp. I just want to get to know your new boyfriend a little better. Marcus looked at me.
I nodded slightly, then stepped back. I watched them dance, watched Amber lean in close, say something I couldn’t hear. watched Marcus’ expression remain neutral. My sister Emma appeared beside me. What’s she doing? Being Amber. Want me to go interrupt? Not yet. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only 2 minutes, Marcus excused himself and walked back to me. Amber stood in the middle of the dance floor looking frustrated. What did she say? I asked.
She asked if we’d met before. I told her I had one of those faces. She asked where I worked exactly. I told her the county building on Fifth Street. He paused. Then she asked if I wanted to get some air later. My stomach dropped. She propositioned you subtly. But yes, what did you say? I told her I was exactly where I wanted to be. Emma snorted. I like this guy. The rest of the reception passed in a blur.
Amber kept watching us from across the room. Her boyfriend Brandon looked increasingly annoyed at being ignored. My mother kept giving me thumbs up from her table, clearly delighted. I’d finally brought someone to a wedding. Around 10:00, I went to the bathroom. When I came out, Amber was waiting in the hallway. We need to talk, she said. My heart started pounding. About what? About Marcus. I know who he is, Megan.
He’s my date. He’s my probation officer. There it was out in the open. I could have denied it. could have pretended I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I was tired of pretending. Yes, I said simply. He is. Amber’s face went white, then red. Are you insane? Do you know what you’ve done? Bringing him here? You mean bringing my date to a family wedding? I don’t see the problem. He could violate my probation for this.
For what? You haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve been on your best behavior all night. I stepped closer to her. Unless you’re planning to do something wrong, like maybe trying to kiss my date. Amber’s mouth opened and closed. You This is enttrapment. It’s not enttrapment. It’s just me bringing someone to a wedding. Someone who happens to know about your criminal record. I let that sink in. The record you’ve been hiding from everyone.
You can’t tell them. I don’t need to tell them. You’re terrified they’ll find out on their own. I smiled. It felt cruel and good at the same time. How does it feel, Amber? Being the one who’s uncomfortable for once. I could tell everyone what you did.
That you brought my probation officer here to humiliate me. Go ahead. Explain to our entire family why you have a probation officer. Explain the credit card fraud. Explain why you’ve been lying to everyone for 6 months. She stared at me. And for the first time in my life, I saw real fear in Amber’s eyes. Why are you doing this? She whispered. because of Tyler and Chris and David and every other time you decided to destroy something I cared about just because you could.
My voice was shaking now. You made me think I was crazy. You made me doubt myself. You took three relationships from me and smiled while you did it. They wanted to kiss me. No, they didn’t. I’ve had years to think about this, Amber. To replay every single incident. And you know what I realized? You waited until they were drunk. You isolated them. You manipulated them. And then you blamed them afterward.
Tears were running down her face now, streaking her makeup. I didn’t mean Yes, you did. You meant every bit of it. We stood there in the hallway. years of resentment and hurt between us. “Are you going to tell everyone?” Amber asked finally. “About my record? I thought about it. Really thought about it.” “No,” I said.
“That’s not why I brought Marcus here. I brought him so you’d feel what I felt. So you’d spend one night knowing someone could ruin your reputation with one sentence. So you’d be too afraid to try your usual routine. So this was just revenge. This was justice.” I walked past her back toward the reception. Behind me, I heard her crying quietly. Marcus was waiting for me by our table.
Everything okay? Yeah, I think it finally is. The rest of the night was actually fun. I danced with Marcus, with my sister, with my dad. I drank champagne and ate wedding cake and laughed at my uncle’s terrible dance moves. And every time I looked at Amber, she was sitting at her table, not talking to anyone, looking small. Around midnight, Marcus and I left.
We walked out to the parking lot together and I realized the night was ending. Thank you, I said. Really? For everything? You keep thanking me because I mean it. He smiled. Want to know a secret? What? I had fun tonight, even with all the weirdness with your cousin. I had fun. Me, too. So, he hesitated.
Would you want to do this again sometime without the ulterior motives and revenge plots? Just dinner or something? I stared at him. Are you asking me on a date? I believe I already went on a date with you tonight. I’m asking for a second one. Isn’t that ethically complicated since I’m connected to one of your probationers? Amber Westbrook’s probation ends in 4 months. I can wait 4 months. My heart did something complicated in my chest. You want to wait 4 months to take me to dinner? I want to do this right.
And doing it right means waiting until there’s no possible conflict of interest. He pulled out his phone, but there’s nothing stopping us from being friends in the meantime. Friends can text, right? Friends can text. I agreed, giving him my number. He saved it, then looked at me seriously. For what it’s worth, I think you handled tonight really well. You had every right to blow up at her, to make a scene, to tell everyone what she did, but you didn’t.
You just made your point and walked away. My therapist would be proud. Your therapist should be. He walked me to my car, gave me a quick hug that lasted a beat too long. Then he got in his own car, and drove away. I sat in my car for a long time, processing everything that had happened. My phone buzzed. A text from my mother. He seems wonderful, honey.
I’m so happy for you. Then one from Emma. Okay, that was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen. Tell me everything tomorrow. Then one from an unknown number. When I opened it, I saw it was from Amber. I’m sorry for all of it. I know you don’t believe me, but I am. I’m going to get help. Real help. I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I typed back, “Good luck.” I didn’t say I forgave her. I didn’t say we could move forward. I just said, “Good luck.” Because the thing is, I didn’t bring Marcus to that wedding to forgive Amber. I brought him to stop feeling powerless, to take back some control over my own narrative. And it worked. 3 months later, I got a text from Marcus. Amber Westbrook’s probation officially ended today.
Are you free Friday night? I was free Friday night. We went to a small Italian restaurant downtown. No family, no ulterior motives, no games, just dinner. And it was nice. Really nice. Marcus told me about a kid he was working with who was turning his life around. I told him about a logo design I was proud of.
We split a tyramisu and argued good-naturedly about whether pineapple belongs on pizza. When he walked me to my car, he kissed me. It was gentle and sweet and absolutely nothing like the kiss I’d seen Amber give Tyler behind the wine celler all those years ago. I’ve wanted to do that since the wedding, Marcus admitted. That was four months ago. I’m a patient man. We started officially dating after that.
I introduced him to Kayla, who immediately approved. We had dinner with my parents, and my mother whispered to me that she was so glad I’d found someone stable and mature. I didn’t tell them the whole truth about how we met. Some secrets are better kept. 6 months after Rachel’s wedding, I ran into Amber at a coffee shop. It was awkward for about 10 seconds, and then she said, “I’m in therapy now twice a week. That’s good.
” I said, “My therapist says I have a pattern of sabotaging people I’m jealous of.” She laughed, but it wasn’t her usual perfect laugh. It sounded broken. Apparently, I’ve been jealous of you since we were kids. Of me. Why? Because everyone actually likes you. They like Amber because she’s pretty and successful. But they like Megan because you’re kind and real.
And I’ve always wanted that, but didn’t know how to get it without tearing you down first. She looked at her coffee. I know you probably don’t care, but I wanted you to know I’m working on it. I thought about all the pain she’d caused me. All the nights I’d cried over Tyler, over Chris, over David, all the times I doubted myself because of her. I hope it helps, I said. and I meant it.
Not because I forgave her, not because we were suddenly going to be close, but because I didn’t need to carry anger around anymore. It was exhausting and I was tired. A year after the wedding, Marcus and I moved in together. We adopted a cat named Pancake who has terrible manners and we love him anyway. We host dinners for friends. We go to farmers markets on Sundays. We’re happy.
My family still doesn’t know Marcus is a probation officer or that Amber was on probation or the real reason I brought him to Rachel’s wedding. They think we met through work, which is technically true. Emma knows. I told her the whole story one night over wine and she laughed so hard she cried. “You’re devious,” she said admiringly. “I had no idea you had that in you.
Neither did I.” “Are you going to tell mom and dad?” “Maybe someday, or maybe not. Does it matter? I guess not.” “The thing is, I didn’t bring Marcus to that wedding for a happy ending.” I brought him for closure, for the satisfaction of watching Amber squirm for once, for the feeling of being in control instead of being the victim.
But somewhere along the way, between the cocktail hour and the slow dances and the quiet conversation in the parking lot, something real happened. Something I wasn’t expecting. I fell for the guy I’d bribed to be my fake date. And four months later, when there were no more ethical complications or conflicts of interest, he fell for me, too. Last month, Rachel came over for dinner. We were sitting on my balcony drinking wine while Marcus grilled vegetables inside.
Can I ask you something? Rachel said, “Sure. That night at my wedding, when you showed up with Marcus, “Did you know Amber was on probation?” I looked at her carefully. “Why do you ask?” “Because I saw her face when she saw him, and I saw her face when she came back from talking to you in the hallway, and she looked terrified.” Rachel swirled her wine, and then I did some digging. because I’m nosy and I found out Marcus works for the probation department.
Rachel, I’m not judging you honestly after what Amber did at my wedding with Tyler. She deserved it. Rachel smiled. I just want to know if you actually planned it or if it was a happy coincidence. I thought about lying, but Rachel had always been one of my favorite cousins and I was tired of secrets. I planned it. I admitted. All of it? That’s the most brilliant thing I’ve ever heard. We clinkedked our wine glasses together.
Are you going to tell anyone? I asked. Are you kidding? This is too good. I’m taking this secret to my grave. She paused. But seriously, Megan, I’m glad you finally stood up to her, and I’m glad you found Marcus. He’s good for you. Yeah, he is. Marcus came out with a plate of grilled vegetables.
He kissed the top of my head and sat down next to me, completely unaware that Rachel and I had just been discussing how we met. “What are you two talking about?” he asked. “Wedding stories,” Rachel said, grinning at me. “Ah, the best kind. We ate dinner on the balcony as the sun set, talking and laughing, and I realized something. I’d spent so many years being hurt by Amber, being the victim in my own story that I’d forgotten I could write a different ending. I’d forgotten I could be the one in control.
That wedding night, standing in the hallway with Amber, watching her cry, and realizing she was finally scared of something I’d done. I’d felt powerful for the first time in years. But this, sitting on my balcony with Marcus and Rachel, eating good food and drinking wine, and being genuinely happy, this felt better than power. This felt like peace. My phone buzzed with a text from my mother.
Cousin Danielle’s engagement party next month. Are you and Marcus coming? I showed the text to Marcus. What do you think? He asked. I think we should go as an actual couple this time. No ulterior motives. Sounds good to me. Later that night after Rachel left and we were getting ready for bed, Marcus said, “Do you ever regret it bringing me to Rachel’s wedding the way you did?” I thought about it. Really thought about it. “No,” I said, “Honestly, maybe I should.
Maybe it was petty and vindictive and not my finest moment, but I don’t regret it.” Why not? Because it gave me you and it gave me closure and it made Amber finally face consequences for once in her life. I climbed into bed next to him. She’s in therapy now, you know, really working on herself. I don’t know if that would have happened if I hadn’t pushed back. So, you’re taking credit for her personal growth? Absolutely not.
I’m taking credit for standing up for myself. what she does with that is her business. He pulled me closer. You know, when you first approached me in that county building, I thought you were completely insane. I was completely insane, but also brave. It takes guts to fight back, even in unconventional ways or stupidity. Sometimes they’re the same thing.
I fell asleep that night thinking about all the versions of myself I’d been. The heartbroken 19-year-old watching Tyler kiss Amber. The devastated 22-year-old finding Chris in the hallway. The broken 25-year-old dropping her engagement ring on the floor. And finally, the 28-year-old who decided enough was enough. I don’t know if what I did was right.
I don’t know if using someone’s probation officer as a weapon against them crosses some ethical line I should care about. But I know this. Amber never tried to kiss another one of my boyfriends. And Marcus turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. So maybe some revenge plots have happy endings after all. The end. Except not really. Because 2 months after that conversation with Rachel, I got another text. This time from Amber. I’m getting married.
I know we’re not close, but you’re still family. I’d like you to come and I’d like to apologize in person properly. I stared at the text for a long time. him. Marcus looked over my shoulder. What are you going to do? I don’t know. Do you want my advice? Always go. Not for her. For you. So, you can close this chapter completely. He was right. Of course, he was right. So, I RSVPd. Yes. Plus one.
And when I walked into Amber’s wedding 3 months later, wearing a gorgeous burgundy dress with Marcus by my side. Amber saw us and smiled. Not her old perfect smile. A real one. She came over during cocktail hour. Her fiance was with her, a quiet guy named Andrew who worked as a teacher, and looked at her like she was precious. “Thank you for coming,” Amber said. “Both of you.
” Marcus nodded politely. Amber looked at me directly. I’ve been wanting to say this for a while now. I’m sorry for everything I did to you. For Tyler and Chris and David. For making you doubt yourself. For being cruel just because I was jealous and didn’t know how else to deal with my own problems. Okay, I said. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even expect you to like me. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry and I’m different now.
Or at least I’m trying to be. Andrew squeezed her hand. She really is trying. I looked at Amber. Really looked at her. She seemed softer somehow, less perfect, more real. I appreciate you saying that, I told her. And I hope things work out for you. I really do. Can I ask you something? Amber said. Sure.
That night at Rachel’s wedding when you brought Marcus, did you do it to hurt me? I thought about lying, but what was the point? Yes, I said. I did it to make you uncomfortable, to make you feel what I felt. Did it work? What do you think? She smiled sadly. It worked. I spent that whole night terrified. And afterward, I realized I’d turned into someone I hated, so I got help. She paused. In a weird way, you bringing Marcus might have been the best thing that ever happened to me.
I didn’t know what to say to that. Marcus cleared his throat. I think the ceremony’s about to start. We moved toward the main room. As we walked away, Amber called out, “Megan, I turned. I’m really glad you’re happy. You deserve it. The ceremony was beautiful.” Amber cried during her vows. Real tears that smudged her makeup.
Andrew looked at her like she was the only person in the world. It was sweet and genuine and so different from the Amber I’d known growing up. “People can change. Maybe not always, maybe not completely, but sometimes.” During the reception, I danced with Marcus.
We swayed to the music and I thought about all the weddings I’d been to, all the pain I’d carried. “You okay?” Marcus asked. “Yeah, I think I finally am. No regrets about bringing me to Rachel’s wedding.” Not a single one. Good, because I’ve been thinking. He pulled back slightly to look at me. What would you say if I told you I wanted to go to more weddings with you? I’d say our families throw a lot of weddings. I’m not talking about other people’s weddings. My heart stopped.
Marcus, I’m not proposing. Not yet. Not here at your cousin’s wedding. That would be weird. He smiled. But someday soon, I want to. I want you to be the bride, and I want to be the guy crying at the altar because I can’t believe I got this lucky. I kissed him right there in the middle of Amber’s wedding reception. A long, deep kiss that made my aunt Patricia whistle.
When we pulled apart, I saw Amber watching us from across the room. She raised her glass slightly, a small toast, and smiled. Not the vindictive smile from that night with Tyler, not the satisfied smile from the hallway with Chris, just a genuine happy smile. I raised my glass back and then I turned to Marcus and whispered, “Ask me later when we’re alone and it’s just us. Ask me and I’ll say yes.” That’s a pretty big spoiler. I know.
He kissed me again. Fair warning, when I do ask, I’m doing it properly. Ring, romantic setting. Probably some terrible poetry I’ll write myself. I can’t wait. We danced until our feet hurt, ate too much cake, and left Amber’s wedding around midnight. On the drive home, Marcus held my hand. Want to know something funny? I said, “What? If Amber hadn’t kissed Tyler all those years ago, none of this would have happened.
I never would have been angry enough to look into her life. Never would have found out about her probation. Never would have walked into that county building and met you. So, you’re saying you’re grateful to your cousin for sabotaging your relationships? I’m saying that sometimes the worst things that happen to us lead us exactly where we’re supposed to be. That’s very philosophical for midnight. I’m very philosophical at midnight.
” He laughed and we drove home through the quiet streets and I thought about revenge and justice and unexpected love stories. I thought about the girl I’d been at 19, watching her boyfriend kiss her cousin and feeling her world fall apart.
I thought about who I’d become, someone who fought back, even if it was messy and complicated and ethically questionable. I thought about Marcus, who’d agreed to a bizarre scheme and ended up staying for everything after. And I thought about Amber, dancing at her own wedding, trying to be better. Maybe that’s what growing up is, realizing that people are complicated, that revenge doesn’t always feel good, that sometimes the best outcome is when everyone gets a chance to move forward. Or maybe I was just tired and overthinking things.
Either way, when Marcus proposed three months later on a hiking trail at sunset with a ring he’d clearly spent too much money on and a poem that was actually pretty good, I said yes without hesitation. We got married a year after that. Small ceremony, just close friends and family. My sister Emma was my maid of honor. Marcus’ brother was his best man. And yes, I invited Amber.
She came with Andrew and she behaved perfectly. No drama, no stealing anyone’s thunder. She congratulated us sincerely. Danced at the reception and left early with her husband. The next day, she sent me a text. You looked beautiful. I’m so happy for you. I sent back. Thank you. Three words. Simple, polite. Not quite friendship, but not enemies either.
Just two people who’d hurt each other, worked through it in their own messy ways, and ended up in different but better places. And honestly, that was enough. Because this isn’t a story about forgiveness or redemption or lessons learned. It’s a story about a girl who got tired of being pushed around. A girl who fought back in the most unconventional way possible.
A girl who accidentally fell in love with her fake date. And a girl who realized that sometimes the best revenge is just living well. So that’s what I did. I lived well and I’m still living well with Marcus, with Pancake, our terrible cat. With Sunday farmers markets and Friday date nights and a life that’s exactly what I wanted. Amber didn’t take that from me.
She tried, but she didn’t succeed. And in the end, maybe that’s the real victory. Not the moment she cried in the hallway. Not the moment she realized I’d brought her probation officer to a wedding, but this moment right now where I’m happy and whole and completely myself. That’s the revenge Amber could never have predicted. That’s the ending I wrote for myself.