Bitter Vows, Sweet Deceptions

I can smell emotions.

Love is sweet. Grief is bitter. Anger burns like cracked pepper.

For ten years, my fiancé, Jasper, smelled like pure sugar.

The only exception was the day my older sister, Maren, moved to Europe three years ago. He came home reeking of bitter ash.

Back then, I was too naive to connect the dots.

Until today. Maren's wedding day.

When Jasper brushed past me at the reception, the scent hit me—a harsh, burning rot of pepper and grief.

I followed his trail out of the ballroom, cracking the stairwell door.

"This is insane, Maren!" Jasper's voice was raw and desperate. "You're marrying a stranger just to make me give up?"

"What else can I do?" my sister sobbed. "You're marrying Celandine! We can't keep doing this!"

I stopped dead, unable to pull a single breath into my lungs.

My phone buzzed. A calendar alert: [Celandine & Jasper's Wedding – 7 Days.]

I stared at the screen, unable to feel my own fingers.

Then, I canceled my wedding.

...

Through the gap in the door, the bitter scent of their shared misery leaked into the hallway.

Maren buried her face in her hands.

"Jasper, let it go. Please."

She looked up, devastated.

"I'm walking down that aisle today. You and Celandine are getting married next week. After our parents died, she became the only family I have left. Don't ruin her. I'm begging you."

I leaned against the wall. A silent, hollow laugh scraped my throat.

Maren and Jasper. I had never connected them.

Over the years, they played the part of polite strangers perfectly.

At the holidays, he brought wine and kept his distance. She offered him a stiff nod. The only bridge between them was me.

Whenever Jasper left, Maren would stroke my hair and avoid my gaze.

"You deserve to be happy, Celandine."

I used to think it was just sisterly love. Now I understood it was guilt.

In the stairwell, Jasper shook his head. He reached for her, his steady surgical hands trembling.

"Don't do this to me, Maren."

Maren shoved him away.

"It's over!"

Jasper slammed his fist into the wall. Blood instantly coated his knuckles, threatening his million-dollar career, but his eyes were entirely reckless.

"I'll take you away from here! Tonight. We can leave."

Maren stepped back. Her voice turned to ice.

"If you hurt Celandine, I will never speak to you again."

Jasper went rigid. The fight drained out of him all at once. He dropped his bleeding hand.

"Fine," he whispered, a hollow laugh escaping him.

"You win, Maren. You win. I'll stay with Celandine. For the rest of my life."

I closed my eyes, sick to my stomach.

I left before they could notice me. My legs felt numb. By the time I sat back down at our table in the dim ballroom, all the color had drained from my face.

A few minutes later, Jasper took the seat next to me. The scent of sweet vanilla returned to him, thick and entirely fake.

"Hey," he whispered, brushing a finger near my eye.

"Why are you crying, Celie?"

I stared at his calm face. He looked exactly like the warm, loving man I thought I knew, as if the stairwell had just been a nightmare.

I pulled away from his touch.

"Nothing."

He didn't push it. The venue lights dipped, and his attention snapped to the grand doors at the back of the room.

"Please stand for the bride," the officiant announced.

Maren walked down the aisle in white silk. When she passed us, she looked at me first. Then her gaze flicked to Jasper—just for a second, but it was heavy with absolute loss.

Beside me, Jasper kept his hands buried deep in his pockets. I could see the muscles in his jaw ticking as he clenched his bruised fists.

I sat still and took a breath. A cold sorrow settled into my bones.

Out of the three of us, there wasn't a single drop of sweetness in the room. Just ash and pepper.

Maren stood at the altar and promised her life to Kian Hale, a man she didn't want. Soon, it was time for the toasts.

The officiant smiled at the crowd.

"We'd love to invite the bride's only sister to say a few words!"

I took a breath and prepared to stand up.

Beside me, Jasper suddenly pushed his chair back. He stood and snatched the microphone right out of the officiant's hand.