“She’s not who she says she is!” I scream, my voice punctuating the silence like hailstones.

I probably haven’t picked the right moment for an emotional revelation. But I learned something, thirty minutes ago in that bathroom stall.

This probably isn’t what my brother anticipated when he tapped his champagne flute to announce the proclamation of speeches. The high-pitched yelp that comes from me sounds animal, foreign, not like me at all.

A sea of faces turn towards me, jaws slack and eyes wide.

What other reaction do I expect? Clapping? Booing?

The most painful reaction is Jude’s. His eyes are shining, face frozen and solidified in ice, his skin taking on a sudden ghostly pallor.

“Jen.” My mother hisses at my side, hiding beneath her lilac peacock fascinator. “What the hell are you doing?”

The silence is absolute now. It’s painful, like bullets hitting every square inch of my body. Someone’s cutlery clatters to the floor - ah, that would be the mother of the bride.

Ruby gazes at me from beside my brother, her new husband, shaking her head slightly, sending those beautiful auburn curls behind her shoulders and back again.

Only thirty minutes ago, this woman’s ivory dress lay crumpled on the bathroom floor. Only thirty minutes ago, her mouth was hoarsely whispering my name, over and over again. Just that short time ago, her legs were splayed like eagle wings and my hands were like butter on her bare skin.

I was supposed to be helping her, the maid of honour, her new sister-in-law. But something happened when I touched her bare skin, when I released the buttons that confined her heavy bust.

The dams burst open. Our lips found each other, urgent, insistent.

I had known. I had always known. Of course I had.

She pulled away and looked deeply into my eyes with her own glowing copper irises. “I’ve always wanted this Jen.” She whispered, as though we weren’t panting above a toilet tank, as though we were somewhere splendid, somewhere magical, scattered with stars.

And I took her to heaven with my hands, and with it, I took away my pride, my loyalty, my brother’s love.

After, we skirted back to the celebration, her and I. Not a hair out of place on her head, her ivory dress cascading behind her like a snowy waterfall.

I sat back down as sparkling champagne flutes were being served. I watched her trail back over towards my smitten brother and place her lips on his. I watched that loving glance poured between them like an afternoon tea for two.

A storm raged within me. Growing by the minute, my heart twisted in agony.

It was then that I screamed, fractured the fiesta with my quivering tongue. I had shattered everything.

Now, the silence that vibrates like a loaded gun makes want to take my words and stuff them back down my stupid, senseless throat.

I turn and run.