I didn’t ask what Tom said to her. Not right away.
But later, during the reception, after the dancing and toasts, I found him near the dessert table, piling cheesecake onto a plate.
“Okay,” I whispered, nudging him. “Spill it. What did you say to her?”
He smiled like he’d been waiting for me to ask. “I reminded her what today was really about. And then I gave her two choices.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“She could go change,” he said, “or I’d bring up her little ‘Instagram secret’ during my speech.”
I blinked. “Her what?”
He took a bite of cheesecake. “She has a second Instagram account. Totally anonymous. She posts stuff like ‘manifesting my soulmate’ and flirts with random guys in the DMs. Let’s just say… your dad doesn’t know. Yet.”
My jaw dropped. “You… blackmailed her?”
He shrugged. “I call it strategic protection. She’s messed with you for too long.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or be horrified. But then I realized—he didn’t do it for drama. He didn’t do it to show off.
He did it for me.
