In the middle of exchanging vows, a phone rang.
Not a polite buzz. Not a quick vibration tucked away in someone’s pocket. It rang loudly, insistently, cutting straight through the soft music and the officiant’s steady voice.
For a split second, no one reacted. Then heads began to turn, one by one, until the realization landed on the entire room at once.
It was the groom’s phone.
The bride stood frozen in her ivory dress, his hands still in hers. The officiant’s sentence trailed off into nothing. A ripple of whispers moved through the guests—some wide-eyed, some grimacing, all suddenly aware they were watching something go terribly wrong.
