The Bachelor Party Exposed The Five-Year Secret Between Them

1 Stewart swore a woman's love was measured by how fast she texted back. At dinner, his girl wired him a hundred bucks within three seconds. I sat there until the plates were cleared for Annie's brief "In a meeting." In a downpour, he texted about forgetting his umbrella and a sedan arrived ten minutes later. I stood in the freezing rain for an hour before she told me to call an Uber. He'd clap my shoulder, shaking his head. "Someone could steal your girl right under your nose." I always defended her. "She's just swamped with work." I thought I had my best bro covering my back. That illusion shattered at my bachelor party. Our drinks were spiked and we were being dragged toward a VIP suite. Stewart held up his phone, eyes frantic. "If she doesn't show tonight, you call off the wedding. Deal?" I fired off an SOS to Annie. Ten minutes later, the door slammed open. She ran right past me and dropped to her knees, pulling Stewart into a tight embrace. "I got you, baby. I'm so sorry I'm late." I froze in the shadows as she helped my best friend out the door. The mystery girl who'd been at his beck and call for five years was my fiancée, Annie. ... A heavy hand clamped over my mouth, suffocating my screams. It wasn't until the nightmare was over that Annie finally got Stewart settled into the empty private booth next door. Muffled pants and soft moans drifted through the crack of their unlatched door. Dragging my battered, exhausted body into the hallway, I stopped dead in my tracks. A platinum credit card slid across the floor, stopping at my bruised feet. From the dark booth, Annie's voice dripped with a sultry heat I rarely heard. "Hey, waiter. Bring a box of ultra-thins in here. And make it quick." Numbness washed over me. I slowly bent down, picked up the card, and limped my way to the bar to buy the condoms. I pushed the door open and dropped the small box onto the glass table. "Here is what you asked for." The two figures tangled on the leather sofa went completely rigid. The moment Annie's eyes adjusted to the dim light and recognized my face, the heavy lust in her gaze fractured into pure panic. "Roger... What are you doing here?" "I texted you." My voice sounded dead, completely devoid of life, as my eyes traced the messy tangle of their half-dressed bodies. Annie finally snapped out of her daze. She shoved Stewart away and scrambled to pull her blouse up, her hands shaking violently. Taking advantage of the chaos, I snatched her phone from her coat pocket and typed in my birthday. The screen unlocked. The first thing I saw was Stewart's chat, pinned to the very top. Right below it was my profile picture, muted, with a little gray bell crossed out. Ninety-nine unread messages glared back at me, mocking my devotion. She wasn't too busy to reply. She just couldn't be bothered to look. Staring at the undeniable proof of her favoritism, I swallowed the bitter lump of grievances that had been building in my throat for years. Annie grabbed my wrist. Her voice trembled with a rare, desperate fear. "Roger, please. I can explain." I did not say a word. I just stared unblinking at her collarbone. Annie was a notorious germaphobe. In the bedroom, she was always cold, calculated, and strictly in control. She absolutely forbade me from leaving any marks on her skin. Once, I accidentally left a faint bruise on her neck, and she locked me out of her apartment for three months. Yet right now, her chest and neck were painted with a chaotic mess of dark, angry hickeys. Seeing my unnatural silence, Annie's panic deepened. She rambled, desperate to justify it. "Roger, someone slipped Stewart a drug. This was just an accident. It means nothing." Stewart took his time sitting up. He casually draped his own dress shirt over Annie's shoulders right in front of me, wrapping an arm around her waist. He looked at me and smirked. "Well, since you've seen it all, there's no point pretending anymore." He tilted his head. "Let's reintroduce ourselves. Roger, meet Annie. My girlfriend." Annie snapped at him, her voice cracking. "Shut your mouth!" Stewart ignored her. He picked up the box of condoms I brought, glanced at it, and let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Man, she really hasn't slept with you much, has she? You bought a size way too small. Trying to strangle me to death?" "Stewart, I told you to shut up!" Annie's eyes were bloodshot. She slammed her hand over his mouth. Stewart let out a low chuckle, his fingers tracing the back of her hand. "Don't be so mean, babe. You sounded a lot sweeter when you were gripping my hair five minutes ago." "Get out!" Annie lost it, shoving him violently out the door. She spun around and grabbed both of my hands. "Roger, you have to believe me. I just lost my mind for a second, it was the drugs..." Her words died in her throat. The neon light from the hallway spilled over me, finally illuminating the torn fabric and the dried blood staining my clothes. Annie's pupils shrank. Raw horror flooded her eyes. "Roger, my god. Why are you bleeding? What happened?" I flinched away from her touch. My tone was utterly hollow. "I slipped and fell." "Sit right here. Do not move. I am going to find a first aid kit." Tears welled in her eyes as she carefully guided me to the sofa before sprinting out of the room. I don't know how much time passed. The adrenaline faded, and the physical agony of the assault finally caught up to me, hitting in brutal waves. When she still hadn't returned, I curled up on the leather cushions, feverish and disoriented. My trembling fingers accidentally hit redial on Annie's number. She picked up on the first ring. Her voice floated through the speaker, soft, gentle, and dripping with affection. But it wasn't meant for me. "I was too excited just now. I scratched you. Be a good boy and sit still, let me put this ointment on you." Stewart's deep, lazy voice responded. "Why are you bothering with me? Your fiancé is still waiting for you in that room." Annie let out a dismissive little scoff. "Roger has a good temper. Waiting is what he does best. He's not exactly a spoiled brat like you." Bile rose in my throat. I hit the end button so hard my thumb ached. The screen faded to black. Looking at the disgusting mess around me, I forced a smile that felt worse than crying. She was right. I was excellent at waiting for her. But a rotten love could never be salvaged. I was done waiting for an echo that would never come. I picked up my phone, dialed three numbers, and spoke with terrifying calm. "Hello, 911? I need to report an assault." The harsh fluorescent lights of the police precinct beat down on me, chilling me to the bone. The detective tapped his pen against the metal desk. "This is a severe case, son. Where is your family? You need someone here." I opened my mouth, about to tell him I didn't have any family left. Before I could speak, the precinct doors swung open. Stewart strolled in, his leather shoes clicking sharply against the tile. "I'm his best friend. I was at the scene too. You can ask me anything you need to know." The detective looked at my bruised, bloodied state, then glanced at Stewart's pristine, unwrinkled clothes. "If you were at the scene, how did you walk away without a scratch?" Stewart looked at me, a cryptic, cruel smile playing on his lips. "Because my girlfriend got there right on time and pulled me out." The precinct fell dead silent for a second. When the detective looked back at me, his eyes were heavy with a sickening amount of pity. The draft in the lobby was freezing. Stewart took off his expensive jacket and draped it over my shivering shoulders, playing the role of the perfect, caring best friend as he ran around signing paperwork for me. A passing female officer handed me a paper cup of hot water, smiling softly. "You've got a really good friend there." I gripped the paper cup, watching Stewart through the rising steam. I remembered when we were in college. I caught a terrible flu, and he stayed awake for two days straight, running back and forth to the pharmacy just to keep my fever down. When things were at their worst and my tuition wiped out my food budget, he would silently slide half his lunch onto my plate every single day. We had sworn an oath to be each other's anchor for life. How did we end up in this twisted, rotten hell? Stewart finished the paperwork and walked back, naturally reaching out to adjust the jacket slipping off my shoulders. I stared dead into his eyes. My voice came out like gravel. "Why did you do it?" His hands paused. A flicker of genuine disappointment crossed his face, like a father scolding a foolish son. "Because you love her too much, Roger. You love her so much you've lost your damn mind." He leaned in closer. "I warned you years ago. A woman like Annie, surrounded by rich guys and dripping with ambition, is way out of your league. You're too pure for her. You could never control her." "As your best friend, you think I was just going to watch you walk into a fire? I just wanted to test her for you. How was I supposed to know she'd open her legs the second I gave her a little attention?" Stewart always said Annie had wandering eyes. Annie always said Stewart was toxic and told me to keep my distance. Every time they were in the same room, the tension was unbearable. And like an absolute idiot, I spent years playing the peacemaker, begging Annie to be nice to him, begging Stewart to accept the love of my life. Stewart clearly remembered those days too. He couldn't hold back a laugh. "Remember the day you introduced us at that dinner? I slid my foot under the table and brushed it against her leg. You know what happened? She reacted instantly." "That same night, after she dropped you off at home, she drove straight to my condo. You never told me your fiancée was so talented in bed, man." That night had been my birthday. My stomach violently heaved. Stewart watched my face drain of color and continued, his voice painfully casual. "Oh, and you know why it always took her hours to text you back? It's because she was busy riding me. Blame her for being so thirsty. If she wasn't, maybe you would've gotten a text back sooner." "Stop talking." I clamped my hands over my ears, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. It all made sense now. The way Annie's complaints about him morphed from "Your friend is so annoying" to "Is Stewart coming out with us tonight?" The times I caught the faint, lingering scent of his signature cologne on her clothes. The memories crashed into me like a tidal wave. Every little clue, every red flag I had blindly ignored, was now screaming in my face, mocking my stupidity. Right on cue, Annie's name lit up my phone screen. Stewart leaned into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "Wanna bet? Even if you tell her right now that you were assaulted, all I have to do is send her one text, and she will hang up on you and come running to me. Deal?" Silence hung heavy in the air. Clinging to the very last shred of hope I had left in this world, I swiped to answer. "Annie, I was assaul—" Before I could finish the word, Stewart tapped his screen, sending a single, solitary period to her chat. Ding. The notification echoed clearly through my speaker. The next second, the line went dead. She hung up on me without a moment of hesitation. The dial tone pierced through my chest like a jagged knife. Then, Stewart's phone rang. He flashed me a triumphant, wicked grin, slowly swiping to answer and putting it on speaker. Annie's voice flooded the quiet lobby, vibrating with absolute ecstasy. "Stewart... I'm pregnant." Thirty minutes later, Annie practically sprinted into the precinct, throwing herself into Stewart's arms. Her face was flushed with overwhelming, uncontainable joy. It took her a solid minute to realize I was sitting right there. A flash of guilt crossed her face, and she nervously walked over to grab my hand. "Roger... you heard it too. I'm having Stewart's baby." She swallowed hard. "He is the father of my child. Under those circumstances at the club, how could you expect me not to save him first?" Just as the words left her mouth, two officers walked past us, chatting in low voices. "Did you hear about the guy from the downtown club? Drugged and jumped by a group of predators in the VIP room. Detectives just brought him in..." Annie's face drained of color. She instinctively pulled Stewart closer to her, shooting me a defensive glare. "Do you hear that? If I hadn't gotten there in time, Stewart would have been the one going through that hell! You're a man, Roger. You should be able to understand why I had to make that choice." Watching her guard him like he was made of glass, a cold, hollow laugh clawed its way up my throat. I looked at her with dead eyes, my voice barely a whisper. "Annie. What if I told you that the guy who got dragged into that room... was me?" The air in the precinct seemed to freeze. Annie stared at me for a split second before her brow furrowed into a deep, irritated scowl. "Enough, Roger!" She let out a frustrated breath. "Look, I know my pregnancy is a hard pill for you to swallow. But making up a sickening lie like that just to get back at me? You're being completely irrational!" Seeing her bare her teeth at me to defend another man broke whatever was left of my spirit. I couldn't breathe. I spun around and bolted out the double doors into the freezing night. My mind was a chaotic storm of memories. My parents died when I was young. Stewart had been the only family I had left in this world. Back in college, when a group of thugs cornered me in an alley, Stewart was the one who grabbed a brick and stood in front of me, taking a heavy blow to the head without taking a single step back. I had held his bleeding body that night, crying until I couldn't breathe, while he just laughed and patted my cheek. "Nobody touches my brother unless they walk over my dead body." But today, the man who once offered his life for mine was the exact same man who knocked up my fiancée. A fierce gust of wind hit my face. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had wandered to the very edge of an eight-story parking garage roof. "Roger!" Stewart's panicked voice cracked through the wind. He rushed forward and yanked me back from the ledge, his eyes red and frantic. "Are you insane?! Throwing your life away over a piece of trash woman who can't keep her legs shut?" I just looked at him. My chest felt like it was caving in. I couldn't form a single word. Stewart pulled out a cigarette, his hands shaking as he lit it. He took a massive drag, then locked eyes with me, his tone dead serious. "Listen to me. If you don't want this baby, I'll make Annie get rid of it. I'll make sure she never has another kid with me ever again." He grabbed my shoulders. "I promised you years ago. No one gets to make you suffer. Not even me." When I didn't respond, Stewart tossed the cigarette away. Without a moment of hesitation, he bent down, picked up a rusted steel pipe from the construction debris, and smashed it brutally against his own left arm. A sickening crack echoed through the night. Stewart's face went chalk-white as he collapsed straight to his knees. "Stewart!" The heavy roof access door flew open. Annie rushed out, her eyes immediately locking onto Stewart kneeling in agony, and the bloody steel pipe resting near my boots. Her eyes turned murderous. She lunged at me, delivering a brutal, full-force kick to my side. "How dare you touch him, Roger!" I was already weak. The impact sent me flying backward, slamming hard against the concrete. A jagged piece of exposed rebar tore straight through the back of my right calf. She didn't ask a single question. She didn't hesitate. She instantly assumed I was the monster and didn't care if she killed me in the process. The pain was so blinding that I could taste iron in my mouth. Using every last drop of energy I had, I looked up at her. "The wedding is off, Annie." I gasped for air. "We're done." Annie was already kneeling, carefully pulling Stewart's head into her lap. She shot me a look of pure venom. "Stop using a breakup to manipulate me, Roger. I don't have time for your childish tantrums!" "This time... I mean it..." Before I could finish, Stewart's eyes rolled back, and he passed out from the pain. Annie panicked, hauling him over her shoulder and dragging him toward the stairwell, rushing like her life depended on it. She never looked back at me. Not once. I lay curled on the frozen concrete like a dying animal, a terrifying puddle of dark red pooling beneath my leg. I stared blankly at the sterile white ceiling of the hospital room. Annie sat by my bed, her face painted with heavy guilt as she gripped my freezing hand. "Roger... your leg. The doctors said there's a surgery. We will fix this, I promise." My eyes drifted past her to Stewart, who was standing by the window with red, teary eyes. I looked back at her. My voice was as light as ash. "Annie. This is the second time this leg has been ruined." Annie froze completely. Three years ago, during a massive blizzard, Stewart forced me to play his instant reply game for the first time to test her. Ten minutes later, a Maybach pulled up to the curb and took Stewart home. I was left standing in that blizzard. I called Annie thirty times. Not a single one went through. I eventually collapsed in the negative-degree weather and lay in the snowbank all night. When I finally woke up, my right leg was so severely frostbitten they almost amputated it. And now, three years later, Annie had personally crippled that same leg to protect my best friend. The memory of that blizzard clearly hit them both. A crushing wave of remorse visibly washed over their faces. Stewart began hitting himself in the head, acting like a man possessed by grief. "It's my fault, Roger! It's all my fault! I'll pay you back with my life, I swear to God I'll make it right!" Annie's face dropped. She immediately rushed over, wrapping her arms around him to stop his hands, kissing his tears away. "Stop it, baby. It's not your fault, please stop." Watching this tragic soap opera play out in front of me, I felt absolutely nothing. The well of my emotions had completely dried up. I reached down, ripped the IV needle out of the back of my hand, and walked out of the room. When I got back to our apartment, I quietly started packing a duffel bag. I walked into the walk-in closet and pulled out a garment bag from the very back. Inside was a vintage-inspired, hand-tailored tuxedo I had spent countless sleepless nights designing and stitching together for our big day. I took it out, ready to throw it in the dumpster. The front door clicked open. Annie walked in. When she saw the tuxedo resting on the bed, the guilt in her eyes deepened into a desperate panic. "Roger, look. I know you're terrified that me having Stewart's baby will push you out of the picture." She stepped closer. "I swear to you, my husband will always be you. I don't care whose blood runs in the baby's veins. You will be the only father it ever knows." She reached out to hug me. I slightly shifted my shoulder, letting her grasp at empty air. Her hands hovered awkwardly before slowly falling to her sides. She took a deep breath, forcing a patient, coaxing tone, like she was humoring a stubborn child. "Okay, look. I promise you, we are getting married tomorrow exactly as planned. And the second the reception ends, I will fly you straight to Norway to see the Northern Lights. Just like you always wanted. Can you please stop being mad now?" The wedding. The Northern Lights. These were the promises I used to pray for in my sleep. But hearing them now, my heart didn't skip a single beat. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. An automated text from the District Attorney's office. [Mr. Gallagher, the three suspects in your felony assault case have been apprehended. The preliminary hearing is scheduled for 10:00 AM tomorrow at the Superior Courthouse. Please ensure your attendance.] [During interrogation, suspects indicated they may have been directed by a third party.] Before I could even process the text, a custom ringtone blared through the room. Annie snatched her phone instantly. She grabbed her coat and practically ran toward the door. "Stewart isn't feeling well, his arm is throbbing. I have to get him to the clinic." She paused in the doorway. "Get some sleep tonight. I'll send the driver to pick you up bright and early for the ceremony tomorrow." The door slammed shut. My words—"My court hearing is tomorrow morning"—died silently in my throat. I let out a dry, exhausted chuckle. I gathered the legal files into a manila folder and set them neatly on the entryway console table. ... The next morning, a massive convoy of luxury wedding cars lined up outside my house. Annie stepped out, looking radiant in her designer bridal gown. She smiled warmly and punched my birthday into the smart lock. Passcode Incorrect. Her smile faltered. A sudden, irrational chill crawled up her spine. Stewart stood behind her, chuckling and hyping up the crowd of groomsmen. "Looks like the groom changed the passcode to test our dedication! You really think marrying our boy Roger is gonna be that easy?" Annie forced down the rising panic in her chest. She stepped back and gestured for the security team to force the door open. The moment she stepped inside, her eyes locked onto the entryway console. Her blood ran cold. Heavy footsteps sounded behind them. Two uniformed police officers walked up the driveway, looking directly at Stewart. "Mr. Stewart? You need to come with us."