"Mmm... ah—Alton, easy... that hurts..."
Faye Calloway had only just reached the door of the bridal room when that woman’s soft, breathy moan drifted out. She stopped dead on the spot.
It was September 18, 1958.
The day she was supposed to marry Alton Ford.
And yet her husband was in their bridal room right now, fooling around with another woman?
The woman’s gasps, mixed with a man’s heavy breathing, stabbed straight into Faye’s heart like a knife.
Her head buzzed. Then the anger shot up all at once.
She lifted her hand and started pounding on the door, so hard her fingers turned pale. Her voice shook, sharp and high. "Who’s in there? Alton Ford, open this door right now! Open it!"
Her shout cracked through the yard like thunder, and the lively wedding feast outside froze on the spot.
The guests all put down their chopsticks and came out into the courtyard, staring in shock at the tightly shut east-side room. Brandon Calloway heard the noise and hurried over at once, brows drawn tight, asking anxiously, "Faye, what’s wrong? What happened?"
Faye’s face looked awful, her eyes blazing. She did not even spare her elder brother a glance. She just kept slamming her hand against the door until her knuckles went red.
Brandon listened carefully, and then he heard it too—the kind of sounds from inside that made people’s faces burn.
His expression changed in an instant. First he went pale, then red, then so red he looked fit to burst. Half shocked and half furious, he hissed, "Good Lord... Faye, this... this is your bridal room! Who’s in there taking your place?"
The moment he said that, the relatives all crowded in, one after another, holding their breath and tipping their heads to listen.
Before long, the shameless sounds of the man and woman inside grew clearer and clearer. Just hearing them made everyone flush hot with embarrassment.
The crowd exploded at once. Some gasped, some whispered, some sucked in cold breaths. It turned into chaos in a blink.
A wedding feast that had been full of joy a minute ago was now a complete mess.
Then from the crowd, Diana Yates suddenly called out, her voice tight with alarm, "Martin, where’s Flora?"
Faye’s heart gave a hard thump. Something flashed through her mind like lightning.
Her face changed at once. She raised her foot and kicked the door with all her might. With a loud bang, the wooden door slammed into the wall, the sound ringing down the corridor.
"Flora Calloway! Alton Ford! Get out here!" she shouted into the room, nearly tearing her throat raw, eyes burning with rage.
Diana Yates rushed up and grabbed Faye by the arm, yanking her hard as she shouted, "Faye Calloway, have you lost your mind? Your sister left right after eating. How could she be in there? What kind of scene are you making?"
Inside the room, the heat from a moment ago turned cold in an instant. Alton Ford suddenly came to himself, his eyes going wide as he shoved the woman off him in panic. He stared at Flora Calloway and his voice trembled. "Y-you... you’re Flora Calloway? Not Faye?"
Flora was in no hurry at all. She slowly straightened her clothes, a smile hanging at the corners of her lips, and said in a sweet, soft voice, "Oh dear, brother-in-law, what do we do now? You mistook me for my sister just now, and now the deed’s done... so you’ll have to take responsibility, won’t you? Anyway, you and my sister haven’t even registered your marriage yet. Last month was just the engagement."
"Flora Calloway!" Alton gritted out, eyes bloodshot. "I’m not marrying you. Give it up. The one I’ve always liked is your sister!"