Bride’s Secret Affair With Best Man Led To HIV & Murder At Wedding

…

Damien parked on the side of the road and immediately noticed his friend’s car, an old silver Chevrolet parked in the driveway.

So, Tyrone was home.

Why wasn’t he answering? Damien got out of the car and walked to the door.

He rang the bell and waited.

No answer.

He rang again, longer this time.

Silence.

Then Damien knocked on the door, softly at first, then louder.

There was no sound inside.

No footsteps, no voices.

He tried to look into the living room window, but the curtains were tightly drawn.

The lights inside were off, even though it was already getting dark outside.

“Ty!” Damien shouted, knocking again.

“Tyrone, it’s me, Damien.

Open up, bro.

I’m worried.

Are you okay?” There was no answer.

Damien tried to turn the doorknob, but the door was locked.

He walked around the house and checked the back door.

It was locked, too.

His concern turned into real alarm.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Tyrone never behaved like this.

Even if he had a big fight with someone or was having problems, he always answered Damien’s calls.

They had been friends for over 20 years, ever since they were in elementary school and sat at the same desk.

Damien returned to his car, unsure of what to do next.

Break down the door? Call the police? But what would he tell them? That his friend hadn’t answered his calls all day? That wasn’t a crime.

Maybe Tyrone just wanted to be alone.

Maybe he had some personal problems he didn’t want to talk about.

But tomorrow was the wedding.

Tomorrow, Tyrone was supposed to stand next to him at the altar.

Damien couldn’t imagine this day without his best friend.

He took out his phone and tried calling again.

Long beeps.

Answering machine.

Damien hung up without leaving a message.

Everything had already been said.

He started his car and drove to Zaria’s house.

Her family lived in a cozy neighborhood in the west of the city, where most of the houses were built in the 1970s and retained the special charm of old Houston.

The Oluwabi house was painted light yellow with white shutters on the windows and a well-kept lawn in front of the entrance.

Dolores, Zaria’s mother, loved gardening, and rose bushes and lavender fragranced the front of the house.

Damien parked and walked up to the porch.

Before he could knock, the door swung open, and Zaria herself appeared on the threshold.

She was dressed casually in soft sweatpants and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a messy bun.

When she saw Damien, she smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Dam, hi.

I wasn’t expecting you today,” she said, hugging him.

“Didn’t we agree not to see each other until tomorrow?” “It’s a superstition.

” “I know, Zari, but I have a problem.

” Damien entered the house, and Zaria closed the door behind him.

“Tyrone is missing.

” Zaria froze for a second.

Her face paled, but she quickly pulled herself together.

“What do you mean, missing?” she asked, a strange tension in her voice.

“He hasn’t answered his phone or messages since Thursday morning.

I just went to his house.

His car is there, but no one is answering the door.

Zari, he’s supposed to be my witness tomorrow.

I don’t know what’s going on.

” Zaria turned away and ran her hand over her face.

Damien noticed how tense her shoulders were, how her fingers trembled.

“Maybe he’s just sick?” she suggested quietly without looking at him.

“Or I don’t know, Dam.

It’s strange.

It’s more than strange.

It’s very unlike him.

” Warren Oluwabi, Zaria’s father, came out of the living room.

He was a strong man with graying temples and the working hands of a man who had spent his entire life in a factory.

Warren loved Damien like a son and had approved of his relationship with Zaria from the beginning.

“Damien, son, what’s wrong? Tomorrow is your big day.

” Warren smiled, but when he saw the groom’s troubled face, he frowned.

“Problems?” “Mr.

Oluwabi, my friend Tyrone, who is supposed to be my best man, hasn’t been in touch all day.

I went to his house, but no one answered the door.

I don’t know what to do.

” Dolores came out of the kitchen, drying her hands with a kitchen towel.

She was preparing something for tomorrow’s banquet and looked tired but satisfied.

“Damien, dear, you weren’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow,” she said, coming over and patting him on the shoulder in a motherly way.

“Is something wrong?” Damien repeated his story, and Dolores’s face became serious.

She exchanged glances with her husband, then with her daughter.

“Sit down, Damien.

I’ll make you some tea.

You look upset.

” Dolores headed for the kitchen, and Damien reluctantly went into the living room.

Warren sat down in his favorite chair, and Zaria sat down next to Damien on the sofa, taking his hand.

Her palm was cold and slightly damp.

“Maybe your friend has some personal problems,” Warren began, scratching his chin.

“Sometimes people, well, you know, don’t want to see anyone, especially before important events.

But this is Tyrone.

We’ve known each other our whole lives.

He’s never acted like this before.

Even if he had problems, he would have told me.

We always told each other everything.

” Zaria squeezed his hand tighter, and Damien felt her shudder.

“Dam, maybe maybe he just needs some time.

” Her voice sounded uncertain, almost pleading.

“Maybe he’s worried about something and doesn’t want to spoil your mood before the wedding.

” Dolores returned with a tray holding four cups of steaming tea and a plate of cookies.

She handed out tea to everyone and sat down in the chair opposite them.

“You know, Damien, you have a backup option,” she said, sipping her tea.

“Javonte can be your best man.

He’s Zaria’s cousin, practically family, and he’s already familiar with the whole ceremony.

He was at the rehearsal.

Damian nodded, but the idea did not bring him any relief.

Of course, Javonte was a good guy, and he would be happy to help.

But Tyrone wasn’t just a witness.

He was part of Damian’s life.

His brother, even if not by blood.

Replacing him felt like a betrayal, even though Damian understood that there might be no other choice.

“I don’t want to replace Tyrone.

” He said quietly.

“I want him to be there with me, like we planned.

” “We all want that, son.

” Warren leaned forward, folding his arms.

“But if he doesn’t show up by evening, we’ll have to make a decision.

We need to have a witness at the altar tomorrow morning.

The ceremony starts at noon sharp.

” “Let’s wait until evening.

” Dolores suggested.

“Maybe your friend will show up.

Young people are so unpredictable these days.

Maybe his phone broke, or maybe he has some problems at work.

Everything will be clear by evening.

” Zaria had been silent all this time, clutching her cup of tea with both hands and staring at a single point.

Damian noticed how white her knuckles had become, how she was biting her lower lip.

She looked tense, almost frightened, but Damian chalked it up to pre-wedding jitters.

Tomorrow was an important day for both of them.

“Okay.

” Damian agreed, though his unease remained.

“We’ll wait until tonight.

I’ll try visiting him again later.

Or his mother.

Maybe she knows where he is.

” “That’s right.

” Warren nodded approvingly.

“Now, let’s take our minds off it.

Dolores, show him what you’ve prepared for tomorrow.

Maybe it will cheer him up.

” Dolores enthusiastically began to talk about the banquet menu, how she and her friends had spent the whole day preparing appetizers and desserts.

Warren chimed in with comments about how he had personally inspected the cars that would transport the newlyweds and how he had polished his best shoes to a mirror shine.

They tried to create an atmosphere of joy and anticipation, but Damian struggled to keep up with the conversation.

His thoughts kept returning to Tyrone.

Zaria got up and quietly left the room, saying she needed to check her dress.

Damian wanted to follow her, but Dolores stopped him, continuing to talk about the flower arrangements for the church.

Time dragged on slowly.

Damian finished his tea, ate a cookie that he couldn’t taste, and continued to nod and smile when appropriate.

By 9:00 in the evening, he realized he couldn’t stay there any longer.

Anxiety gnawed at him, preventing him from concentrating on anything else.

He said goodbye to Zaria’s parents, promising that everything would be fine, and went out onto the porch.

Zaria walked him to his car.

In the light of the street lamp, her face looked haggard, with dark circles under her eyes.

“Everything will be fine, Dam.

” She said, but her voice trembled.

“You’ll see.

Tomorrow will be a beautiful day.

” Damian hugged her close and felt her flinch in his arms.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly.

“You look upset.

” “I’m just nervous about the wedding.

That’s normal, right?” She smiled weakly, but her eyes remained sad.

“I love you, Damian.

Remember that.

” “I love you, too, Zari.

Tomorrow we’ll be husband and wife.

” She nodded, and he saw tears well up in her eyes.

Damian thought they were tears of happiness and kissed her on the forehead.

“See you tomorrow at the altar.

” he whispered.

Zaria nodded silently and returned to the house.

Damian got in his car and drove home.

All the way there, he thought about Tyrone and tried to call him several more times, to no avail.

His friend’s phone was either turned off or out of battery, or Tyrone was simply ignoring all his calls.

But why? What was going on? Back in his apartment, Damian couldn’t sleep until late at night.

He lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, and his anxiety wouldn’t let him go.

Something had gone wrong.

Something very important.

And tomorrow, on the most important day of his life, he felt ready for anything but happiness.

Saturday morning began with the piercing sound of the alarm clock, which Damian had set for 7:00.

He opened his eyes and lay motionless for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, trying to realize that the day had finally come.

His wedding day.

The day he had been planning for months, dreaming about for years.

But instead of joy and excitement, the first thought that flashed through his mind was of Tyrone.

Damian sat up abruptly in bed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

No new messages.

No missed calls.

He opened his messenger app and saw that all of his messages from yesterday were still unread.

Tyrone was still silent.

Damian felt the anxiety that had haunted him all night return with renewed force, squeezing his chest with a heavy lump.

He got out of bed, went to the bathroom, and stood under the shower for a long time, trying to collect his thoughts.

The water ran down his face, but it couldn’t wash away his anxiety.

What was happening to Tyrone? Why had he disappeared right now, at the most important moment? Maybe he was in the hospital.

Maybe something serious had happened to him and he was physically unable to call.

Damian got out of the shower, dried himself off, and began to get dressed.

He put on jeans and a shirt.

He would put on the groom’s suit later at Zaria’s house, as they had agreed.

Glancing at his watch, he realized that there were about 5 hours left before the wedding.

The ceremony was scheduled to begin at noon sharp.

He still had time.

Time to find out what had happened to his friend.

Damian drank the coffee he had made in the machine, barely tasting it, took his keys, and left the apartment.

The morning was clear and sunny.

It was the kind of morning that promised a beautiful day.

But Damian felt as if a dark cloud was hanging over him that no one else could see.

He got in his car and drove to the other end of town where Tyrone’s mother lived.

Grace Levy rented a small apartment in a two-story house in a quiet neighborhood.

She worked as a cashier in a supermarket and had raised her son alone after Tyrone’s father left the family when the boy was only 6 years old.

Damian knew Grace well.

He had spent a lot of time at their house during his childhood and adolescence, and she had always treated him like family.

Parking outside the house, Damian climbed the creaky wooden stairs to the second floor and knocked on Grace’s door.

Footsteps could be heard from inside, and the door opened.

Grace Levy stood in the doorway wearing a bathrobe, her face gaunt and tired.

Her eyes were red, as if she had been crying or had not slept all night.

When she saw Damian, she gasped and pressed her hand to her chest.

“Damian.

” she breathed.

“I I wasn’t expecting to see you.

Isn’t your wedding today?” “Mrs.

Levy, good afternoon.

” Damian tried to smile, but it came out strained.

“Yes, the wedding is in a few hours, but I came here about Tyrone.

Is he here?” Grace’s face contorted, and for a moment it looked like she was about to cry.

She nodded, lowering her gaze.

“Yes.

He’s home.

He arrived late Thursday evening.

He’s been in his room ever since and hasn’t come out.

I tried to talk to him, but he” Her voice broke, and she fell silent, trying to control her emotions.

“Mrs.

Levy, please, I need to see him.

He’s supposed to be my witness today.

We’re best friends, and I don’t understand what’s going on.

Why isn’t he answering my calls? Why didn’t he come to rehearsal?” Damian spoke quickly, the words pouring out, betraying his desperation.

Grace shook her head, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

“He doesn’t want to see you, Damian.

He told me so himself.

He said he can’t see you, that he can’t go to your wedding.

I asked him why, begged him to explain, but he won’t say anything.

He just sits there in his room and” She sniffed, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“I’ve never seen him like this before.

He looks broken.

As if something inside him has broken.

” Damian felt the ground slip away beneath his feet.

Tyrone didn’t want to see him? His best friend, the one he’d been through everything with, refused to even meet with him? Why? What could he have done to make Tyrone react this way? “Mrs.

Levy, please, could you call him? Or let me go in and talk to him.

I need to understand what happened.

It’s very important to me.

” Grace looked at him with deep pity and shook her head again.

“He’s locked himself in his room, Damian.

He won’t open the door.

I’ve tried, believe me.

But he said he needs time, that he’ll figure it out himself.

I don’t know what to do.

I’m so afraid for him.

” Damian stood silently, digesting what he had heard.

Tyrone was here, just a few feet away from him, but it was as if an invisible wall had grown between them.

A wall of silence, of half-truths, of secrets.

“If he changes his mind, if he wants to talk, please tell him I’ll be happy to listen.

Anytime.

Even after the ceremony.

I don’t care what happened.

I just want him to know that I’m here, that I’m his friend.

” Damian said quietly, trying to maintain his composure, even though inside he was boiling with incomprehension and resentment.

I’ll pass it on, dear.

Grace put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently.

I’m sorry I can’t help more.

And congratulations on your upcoming wedding.

May it be a happy one, no matter what.

Damian nodded, unable to say a word, turned around and walked down the stairs.

Each step seemed unbearably heavy.

He got into his car and sat there for a few minutes, holding the steering wheel and staring into space.

What was going on? Why had his best friend, the person he had known all his life, suddenly turned his back on him? He started the engine and drove to Zaria’s house.

He needed to be there to help with the final preparations, to change into his suit, but his head was full of unanswered questions and his heart was tight with a sense of foreboding.

He was driving through the morning streets of Houston when his phone suddenly vibrated.

Damian slammed on the brakes, pulled over to the side of the road, and grabbed his phone.

A new message appeared on the screen from Tyrone.

Damian’s hands trembled as he opened it.

The text was short, but each word hit like a blow.

I’m sorry.

I was a bad friend and I paid for it.

But I promise to make it up to you.

Damian read the message once, twice, three times.

What did it mean? Bad friend? What had Tyrone done wrong? And what did paid for it mean? For what? What was he going to make up for? Damian tried to call, but the phone was still unresponsive.

He wrote back, Ty, please explain.

I don’t understand.

What are you talking about? Let’s meet and talk.

The message was delivered but remained unread.

Shock and confusion overwhelmed Damian.

He sat in his car on the side of the road, clutching his phone, and felt reality begin to blur around him.

Something very, very bad was happening.

Something he didn’t know about, but which was already destroying his life from within.

He struggled to pull himself together, started the car again, and continued on his way.

When he parked outside Oluwabi’s house, he saw that the yard was full of cars.

Zaria’s relatives and friends had already gathered to help with the final preparations and go to church together.

Voices, laughter, and music came from the house.

Life went on as usual, as if nothing had happened.

Damian got out of the car and was immediately noticed by Dolores.

She was standing on the porch with a bouquet of white lilies in her hands and a big smile on her face.

Damian, finally.

We were starting to get worried.

Come on in.

Come on in.

She waved her hand, inviting him to enter.

Damian climbed the steps and Dolores immediately noticed the look on his face.

Honey, what’s wrong? You look pale.

Are you feeling sick? Her smile turned to concern.

I need to talk to Zaria.

Damian said quietly.

It’s urgent.

Dolores nodded and let him into the house.

Inside it was noisy and crowded.

Zaria’s aunts were bustling about in the kitchen, filling containers with food for the banquet.

Warren was standing by the window, talking on the phone, apparently with the driver of the wedding motorcade.

Javonte, the bride’s cousin, was sitting on the sofa in the living room, already dressed in a dark blue suit.

He looked proud and a little nervous.

Today he would be the best man at his sister’s wedding.

Dolores led Damian down the hall to Zaria’s room and knocked softly on the door.

Zaria, dear, Damian is here.

He needs to talk to you.

The door opened and Zaria appeared in the doorway.

She was wearing a silk robe, her hair curled and styled in an elaborate hairstyle, her face already made up.

She looked beautiful, but her eyes were full of anxiety.

When she saw Damian, she froze.

Damn, she whispered.

You’re here already.

I need to talk to you.

Alone.

He said.

And there was such seriousness in his voice that Zaria nodded and stepped back, letting him into the room.

Dolores closed the door behind them, leaving them alone.

Zaria sat down on the edge of the bed where her wedding dress lay, a luxurious white gown with a long train and lace sleeves.

Damian remained standing, unable to sit still.

I went to see Tyrone’s mother.

He began.

She said he was home, but he refuses to see me.

He refuses, Zaria.

He doesn’t even want to talk to me.

Zaria paled even more beneath her layer of makeup.

Her hands clenched into fists on her knees.

Maybe he’s just not feeling well.

Maybe he’s sick.

She muttered, but her voice sounded unconvincing.

That’s not all.

Damian took out his phone and opened a message from Tyrone.

He wrote to me.

Look.

He handed the phone to Zaria and she took it with trembling hands.

Her eyes scanned the lines of the message and Damian saw her face contort.

Her lips trembled, her eyes widened in horror.

The phone slipped from her hands and fell to the floor.

Zaria stood up abruptly and turned away, wrapping her arms around herself.

Zari, what does this mean? Damian asked, picking up the phone.

What is he talking about? What guilt does he have to atone for? What happened between you two? I I don’t know.

She said without turning around and Damian could hear her voice trembling.

I have no idea, Dam.

Maybe he has some problems we don’t know about.

Zari, turn to me.

He asked, moving closer.

She slowly turned around and Damian saw tears on her cheeks, smearing her mascara.

She looked scared, broken, guilty.

All these emotions flashed across her face, one after another.

Tell me the truth.

What’s going on? He took her hands, but they were ice cold and still shaking.

Nothing, Dam.

Nothing’s going on.

Maybe Tyrone is worried about something personal.

Maybe he has some financial problems or problems at work.

I don’t know.

Really.

She spoke quickly, incoherently, her words stumbling over each other.

Damian looked into her eyes and realized she was hiding something.

Her gaze darted around, unable to find a foothold, and she couldn’t look him straight in the eye.

But there was no time to ask any more questions.

There was a knock at the door and Dolores’s voice came from the hallway.

Kids, it’s time to get ready.

We have to be at church in an hour.

Zaria wiped her tears, turned to the mirror, and began to fix her makeup with trembling hands.

Damian stood behind her, looking at her reflection, and felt the gap between them widening.

Something was wrong.

Something very important.

But he didn’t know what it was.

I need to get changed.

He said finally.

Where’s my suit? In the next room.

Zaria replied without turning around.

Dam, I I love you.

Know that.

He wanted to respond, but the words stuck in his throat.

Instead, he left the room and went to get changed.

The house was bustling with activity.

Relatives were carrying boxes of food to the cars.

Someone was checking that all the flowers were in place.

Someone else was fussing with a camera.

Warren saw Damian and walked over to him.

Son, are you okay? He asked, putting his heavy hand on his shoulder.

Yes, Mr.

Oluwabi.

Everything will be fine.

Damian lied.

Javonte got up from the couch and walked over to them.

He smiled broadly and friendly.

Hey, bro.

Don’t worry.

I’ll be a great witness.

I promise I won’t drop the rings.

He winked, trying to lighten the mood.

Damian nodded, forcing a smile.

Javonte was a good guy and he was really trying to help.

But he wasn’t Tyrone.

He didn’t know all the stories, all the jokes, all the moments they had shared together.

He was a replacement.

A temporary, necessary replacement.

Damian walked into the next room where his wedding suit hung on a hanger, dark gray, perfectly pressed with a snow-white shirt and ivory tie.

He began to change mechanically, buttoning his shirt, tying his tie, pulling on his jacket.

In the mirror, he saw a man ready for his wedding.

But inside that man, a storm was raging.

20 minutes later, everyone gathered in the courtyard.

The cars were ready to leave.

Zaria came out of the house in her dress and everyone gasped in admiration.

She really did look gorgeous.

Her white dress fluttered in the wind, her veil fell in soft waves, but her eyes were red and no amount of makeup could completely hide it.

Dolores bustled around her daughter, adjusting the folds of her dress, checking that everything was in place.

Warren stood nearby, proud and serious, ready to walk his daughter down the aisle.

Relatives and friends got into the cars, laughing and taking pictures.

Damian got into the car with Javonte.

They were supposed to arrive at the church first and wait there for the bride.

According to tradition, the groom should not see the bride before the ceremony.

But today, everything had gone wrong from the start.

As the car drove through the streets of Houston to St Paul’s Church, Damian looked out the window and tried to calm down.

His anxiety wouldn’t let him go.

Tyrone’s message kept running through his head over and over again.

I’m sorry.

I was a bad friend and I paid for it.

What did that mean? What guilt did he want to atone for? And why did Zaria react so strangely when she read that message? Why couldn’t she look him in the eye? The car pulled up to the church and Damian got out looking at the white stone building with its tall spire.

St Paul’s Church was beautiful, old with stained glass windows and wooden benches inside.

Here he was to take the vows that would bind him to Zaria for life.

Here a new phase of his life was to begin.

But his anxiety would not leave him.

A sense of impending doom hung in the air like a storm cloud.

And Damian felt that the worst was yet to come.

Damian Crawford stood at the altar to the right of the pastor, his back straight and trying to look calm.

His dark gray suit fit him perfectly.

His white shirt was starched and his tie was tied perfectly.

But inside he was boiling.

His hands were shaking slightly and he clenched them into fists to hide his nervousness.

Next to him stood Javonte in a dark blue suit holding a velvet box with rings in his hands.

Javonte smiled confidently and patted Damian encouragingly on the shoulder.

Everything will be fine, bro.

He whispered.

Your bride will walk in now and you’ll forget about everything else in the world.

Damian nodded unable to respond.

His gaze was fixed on the church entrance.

His thoughts raced preventing him from concentrating.

Tyrone.

The message.

Zaria’s strange behavior.

It all gnawed at him like sharp needles piercing his mind.

Something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.

The organ music changed becoming more solemn and louder.

All the guests turned toward the entrance.

The church doors swung open letting in a flood of bright daylight.

And in that light appeared Zaria Olowabi in her magnificent white dress.

She walked slowly holding the hand of her father, Warren, who proudly led her to the altar.

Her veil fluttered behind her.

The hem of her dress rustling on the stone floor.

Zaria was beautiful.

Her face glowed even though her eyes were downcast.

She did not look at the guests, did not look at Damian.

She simply walked forward step by step as if performing a difficult duty.

The guests whispered and gasped in admiration.

Some wiped away tears of emotion.

Dolores sat in the front row and cried openly with happiness pressing a handkerchief to her face.

Relatives smiled and nodded to each other.

This was the moment they had all gathered here for.

Warren led his daughter to the altar and gave her hand to Damian.

Their fingers touched and Damian felt how cold and damp Zaria’s palms were.

She still wasn’t looking at him.

Warren nodded to the groom, patted him on the shoulder and stepped back to take his place next to his wife.

The pastor, an elderly gray-haired man in a snow-white robe, raised his hands calling for silence.

The music stopped.

A solemn silence fell broken only by the crackling of candles and the occasional cough among the guests.

Dear brothers and sisters, the pastor began in a low, soft voice that carried well throughout the church.

We are gathered here on this blessed day to unite Damian Crawford and Zaria Olowabi in holy matrimony before the Lord.

Marriage is a sacred union based on love, trust and mutual respect.

It is a vow made before God and man and one that must be kept for a lifetime.

Damian stood next to Zaria holding her hand and tried to focus on the pastor’s words.

But his heart was pounding wildly and his ears were ringing.

He glanced at Zaria.

She stood motionless looking straight ahead her lips tightly pressed together.

A tear slowly rolled down her cheek.

If anyone here knows of a reason why these two cannot be joined in marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace, the pastor continued reciting the traditional words of the ceremony.

Silence.

Everyone waited for the ceremony to continue as usual.

No one ever objected.

It was just a formality but suddenly the silence was broken.

The church doors burst open.

Everyone turned around.

A man stood in the doorway his silhouette sharply outlined against the bright light outside.

He was dressed in dark clothes.

His hair was tousled and his face was gaunt and pale.

And in his right hand a gun glinted in the light.

Tyrone! Damian gasped recognizing his friend.

A wave of frightened screams and gasps swept through the church.

People jumped up from their seats.

Some backed away toward the walls.

Others grabbed their children and shielded them with their bodies.

Dolores screamed and pressed herself against Warren who wrapped his arms around her protectively.

Javonte stepped back dropping the box of rings.

It fell to the floor with a dull thud and the rings rolled across the stone tiles.

Tyrone Levy entered the church with slow, heavy steps.

He looked terrible.

Sunken eyes with dark circles and unshaven face and rumpled clothes.

He walked down the center aisle between the pews and the guests stepped aside in horror.

The gun in his hand was pointed forward toward the altar.

At the bride.

Tyrone! What are you doing? Damian shouted taking a step forward.

But Tyrone raised the gun higher now aiming directly at him.

Don’t come any closer, Damian.

Don’t come near me.

Tyrone’s voice was hoarse and broken.

I don’t want to hurt you.

I didn’t come here for you.

Tyrone, put the gun down, please.

Let’s talk.

Tell me what’s going on.

Damian tried to remain calm although inside he was gripped with terror.

I won’t let this wedding happen, Tyrone shouted moving closer to the altar.

I can’t let you marry her.

I can’t.

The pastor backed away raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

My son, please calm down.

Put down your weapon.

The church is the house of God.

This is no place for violence.

That’s exactly why I’m here.

Tyrone stopped a few steps from the altar his eyes glistening with tears.

The church is a place of repentance.

A place where the truth is spoken.

And I came here to repent.

I came to tell the truth that I’ve been hiding for too long.

Zaria stood motionless as if petrified.

Her face was white as chalk.

Her hands trembling.

She stared at Tyrone with wide eyes full of horror.

Ty, don’t, she whispered.

Please, don’t.

I have to, Zaria.

Tyrone took another step forward.

I have to tell him the truth.

He has a right to know.

What truth? Damian looked from Tyrone to Zaria not understanding what was going on.

What are you talking about? Tyrone turned to Damian tears rolling down his face.

His lips trembled and he struggled to get the words out.

Damian, bro, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for what I did.

I was the worst friend you could ever imagine.

I betrayed you in the most despicable way.

I His voice broke and he closed his eyes for a moment gathering his strength.

I had an affair with Zaria.

We were seeing each other behind your back for months until recently.

These words sounded like a gunshot.

The church fell silent.

No one breathed.

The guests stared at what was happening with their mouths open unable to believe what they had heard.

Damian felt the ground slip away from under his feet.

He staggered grabbing the edge of the altar to keep from falling.

An affair? Tyrone and Zaria? His best friend and his fiance? No, he managed to say.

No, that’s not true.

You’re lying.

Why are you saying that? I’m not lying, Tyrone shouted.

I’m telling the truth.

I’m finally telling the damn truth.

I slept with your fiance, Damian.

I betrayed you with her.

We both betrayed you.

Damian turned to Zaria.

She stood with her face covered in her hands sobbing.

Her shoulders shook with her sobs.

Zaria, tell me it’s not true, he begged.

Tell me he’s crazy.

Tell me.

Zaria lowered her hands.

Her face was contorted with grief.

Mascara smeared across her cheeks.

Her lips twisted in a silent scream.

She looked at Damian and in her eyes he saw guilt.

Unbearable, all-consuming guilt.

Forgive me, Dam.

She whispered through her tears.

Please forgive me.

The confession was like a knife to the heart.

Damian stepped back shaking his head in disbelief.

It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be true.

Not Zaria.

Not Tyrone.

Not them.

The guests burst into whispers.

Some gasped.

Others covered their mouths with their hands in shock.

Dolores screamed and Warren held her tighter.

His face set in a mask of anger and pain.

Relatives looked at each other not knowing what to do.

But that’s not all.

Tyrone raised the gun higher pointing it at Zaria.

Tell him the rest, Zaria.

Tell him what you did to me.

Tell him.

Zaria backed away her back pressed against the altar.

She shook her head tears streaming down her face.

Ty, please don’t make me.

She sobbed.

Three days ago, Tyrone continued, still holding the gun, I found out I have HIV.

I got tested because I wasn’t feeling well.

And then I got the diagnosis.

HIV infection.

Do you understand, Damian? I’m infected.

Damian stood there, unable to move, unable even to breathe.

HIV.

Tyrone was infected with HIV.

And do you know who infected me? Tyrone laughed, but it was a laugh full of pain and despair.

Her.

Your precious fiance.

She knew she was sick, but she didn’t tell me.

Nothing.

She continued to sleep with me, continued to sleep with you, knowing she was infected.

All eyes turned to Zaria.

She stood with her arms pressed to her chest, sobbing so hard that her whole body shook.

Is it true? Damian asked quietly, almost in a whisper.

Zaria, is it true? She didn’t answer, just kept crying.

Answer him! Tyrone shouted, moving even closer and putting the gun right up to her head.

Answer him! Tell him the truth! Yes! Zaria cried through her sobs.

Yes, it’s true.

I have HIV.

I found out a year ago, but I didn’t tell anyone.

I was afraid.

I was afraid I would lose you, Damion.

I was afraid everyone would turn away from me.

The guests recoiled in horror.

Some screamed, others began to make their way to the exit.

Dolores fainted, and Warren caught her, lowering her onto a bench.

His face was contorted with anger and pain, and he looked at his daughter as if he didn’t recognize her.

Damian stood looking at the woman he was about to marry, the woman he had loved for 3 years, and he realized that he didn’t know her at all.

She had lied to him, cheated on him, risked his health, his life, and kept silent.

All this time she had kept silent.

I slept with you.

He said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.

Only emptiness.

We slept together.

You could have infected me.

I used protection! Zaria sobbed.

I tried to be careful.

I didn’t want to infect you, Damion.

I love you.

You love me? Damian suddenly shouted, and all his anger, all his pain, all his betrayal burst out.

You slept with my best friend.

You lied to me every day.

You risked my life.

You call that love? I didn’t mean to.

I didn’t want it to be like this.

It just got out of control.

Zaria reached out to him, pleading.

Forgive me, Damion.

Forgive me.

She doesn’t deserve forgiveness.

Tyrone stood with his gun pointed at her, his face contorted with rage and pain.

She destroyed my life.

She infected me.

She turned me into a walking corpse.

And I won’t let her ruin your life, too, Damian.

I’ll save you from her.

Ty, no.

Damian took a step forward, reaching out his hand.

Don’t do this.

Put the gun down.

Please.

I have to.

Tyrone whispered, tears rolling down his face.

I have to protect you.

I have to atone for my sins.

This is the only way.

It’s not the way! Damian shouted.

Ty, I understand how you feel.

I understand your pain, but don’t do it.

We’ll find another way.

There is no way out.

Tyrone shook his head.

I’m already dead, Damian.

My life is over.

But yours can still be saved.

I won’t let this plague come near you.

Zaria fell to her knees, folding her hands in prayer.

Ty, please don’t kill me.

I beg you.

I had a reason.

I didn’t want to hurt anyone.

I just I was scared and lonely.

You’re a liar! Tyrone shouted.

You deceived us both.

You ruined everything.

He put the gun to her head.

Zaria closed her eyes and sobbed.

Her lips whispered a silent prayer.

Tyrone, no! Damian shouted and lunged forward, but he was too late.

A deafening shot rang out.

The sound echoed through the church, bouncing off the stone walls.

The smell of gunpowder filled the air.

Zaria shuddered, her eyes opening one last time, filled with horror and pain.

A red stain spread across her snow-white dress, staining the lace scarlet.

She slowly fell to the floor of the church, her body going limp, her head thrown back.

The white dress spread around her like a shroud, gradually soaking with blood.

The church erupted in screams.

People rushed to the exit in horror, pushing, falling, and tripping over each other.

Dolores woke up and saw her daughter on the floor in a pool of blood, and let out a heart-wrenching scream that drowned out everything else.

Warren rushed to his daughter, but his relatives held him back.

He screamed and struggled, but he couldn’t break free.

Tyrone stood looking at what he had done.

The gun trembled in his hand.

He looked at Zaria’s lifeless body, at the blood spreading across the church floor, and his face contorted.

He let out a sound like the roar of a wounded animal, and the gun fell from his fingers, crashing onto the stone floor.

Tyrone fell to his knees next to the body, covering his face with his hands.

His shoulders shook with sobs.

What have I done? He whispered through his tears.

God, what have I done? Damian stood a few steps away, frozen in place.

He watched everything that was happening, but couldn’t believe it was real.

Zaria lay on the floor in her blood-stained wedding dress, motionless.

Her eyes open, staring into nothingness.

His bride, the woman he loved, the woman who betrayed him, dead.

Tyrone cried on his knees, devastated by what he had done.

His best friend, the man he had trusted his whole life, a murderer.

Guests ran out of this church, screaming, crying, calling for help.

Someone was already dialing the police.

Sirens would soon fill the streets.

But now, there was only silence inside the church.

Silence broken only by Tyrone’s sobs and Dolores’s cries.

The candles at the altar continued to burn, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

The stained glass windows still let in colored light, but the sanctity of this place had been desecrated.

Blood on the church floor, a body in a wedding dress, lives destroyed.

Damian slowly sank to his knees.

His arms hung limply at his sides.

He stared straight ahead, but saw nothing.

His world had collapsed.

Everything he believed in, everything he loved, everything he hoped for, all turned to dust in a matter of minutes.

St Paul’s Church in Houston was supposed to be the start of a new life.

Instead, it became a place of death, betrayal, and destruction.

And the happiest day of Damian Crawford’s life turned into a nightmare from which there was no waking up.