“Before we toast,” she began, “there’s something everyone needs to know about the groom.”
People shifted in their chairs. The room stilled, and you could hear the air leave the space.
“Oliver is a liar,” Lizzie said clearly. “He told me he loved me. He told me he’d leave Judy. He told me to get rid of the baby because it would ‘ruin everything.'”
I could hear the crowd gasp in the video. Someone dropped a fork.
Onscreen, Judy stood up, blinking like she hadn’t heard her correctly.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she snapped.
But Lizzie didn’t flinch.
“Because of this man,” she said, pointing directly at Oliver, “Lucy lost her baby. He’s poison. He destroys everything he touches.”
The sound in the room was electric. You could see people turning in their chairs, whispering, pulling out phones. The video zoomed slightly as Misty tried to steady her hands.
Then Lizzie dropped the hammer.
“You want to know why I’ve been gone? Why I stopped answering your calls? It’s because I was pregnant. With his baby. And I couldn’t face any of you until now.”
I felt my breath catch.
The room in the video exploded. Gasps, murmurs, someone said, “What the hell?” loud enough that I could hear it clearly. The camera shifted slightly as Misty zoomed in.
Judy screamed, “You disgusting woman!”
And Lizzie, ever the composed one, simply said, “At least I finally saw him for what he is.”
Then chaos.
Oliver lunged toward her, face twisted in anger, trying to grab the microphone. Judy stormed in behind him, yelling. Chairs scraped. People started standing.
And Lizzie, cool as ever, reached under the table, pulled out a silver bucket, and with perfect aim, dumped an entire load of red paint over both of them.
There was screaming everywhere. Phones were up, with people recording the moment. Oliver shouted something unintelligible while Judy’s hands flailed in front of her, red paint dripping down her arms like a scene from a bad horror movie.
Lizzie set the mic down on the table.
“Enjoy your wedding,” she said calmly.
And she walked right out.
The video ended.
I stared at Misty’s phone, speechless.
“Wait,” I said finally. “He was with Lizzie, too?”
Misty nodded, slipping her phone back into her clutch.
“And he tried to sleep with me, too,” she added, rolling her eyes. “Back in March. Sent me a sob story about how lonely he was and how Judy didn’t understand him. I told him to go cry to someone else.”
My mouth opened, but no words came.
“You okay?” Misty asked gently.
I blinked a few times.
