Subzero Passion

The day after I broke up with my boyfriend, my best friend called me. “I think I saw… he’s getting married.”

An hour later, dragging my hungover body and sporting bird’s-nest hair, I paid my wedding gift money and took a seat at the venue.

I must have been out of my mind, paying good money just to crash a wedding.

As the romantic wedding march played, my eyes welled up right along with all the men sitting at the “Exes’ Table.”

When it came time for the toasts, the bride approached gracefully, leaning on the groom’s arm.

The moment she saw me, her expression shifted.

I stood up with a smile and reached out my hand. The words “Hello, I’m his ex” were on the tip of my tongue, ready to be unleashed.

Suddenly, the bride grabbed the groom by the ear. “Didn’t you say you didn’t have any exes?”

In that moment, the groom and I locked eyes.

At the exact same time, we both blurted out: “Who are you?”

Staring at the face before me-one that was both strangely unfamiliar yet hauntingly familiar-I realized that I might have… walked into the wrong wedding.

Just then, someone grabbed my wrist and yanked me aside.

A cold, aloof voice rang out: “What are you doing here?”

I looked up blankly, meeting a pair of calm, steady eyes.

He was dressed in a sharp suit today with a boutonniere pinned to his chest; he was a member of the wedding party.

Uh…

It seemed I had just crashed his twin brother’s wedding…