I'm a cake artist. I work with royal icing — one crooked line and it hardens that way. Permanent. Unforgivable.
Six months married. Kate was my maid of honor. She zipped me into my wedding dress, cried in the front row, organized my bridal shower. She's been my best friend for three years.
Then I find the photo.
Kate. In my wedding dress. In my bedroom. The dress I stored in the garment bag in the back of the closet — the one I haven't touched since September. She's wearing it. She's photographed in it. And she's not alone in the frame.
My husband is behind her. His hands on the zipper. The same zipper she closed on my back six months ago.
I'm a woman who makes beautiful things with steady hands. But my hands haven't stopped shaking since 6 PM. Because the image won't stop cycling. Because I keep seeing the way the silk falls on her shoulders the same way it fell on mine. Because the dress doesn't forgive either.
And neither do the women watching online. Because they've seen Kate's face before. Different city. Different husband. Same dress.
My Best Friend Wore My Wedding Dress is Book 7 in the My Best Friend's Betrayal series. Books 5-8 are a connected arc — the same women, the same predator, the final reckoning.
