The Homewrecker Wore My Wedding Dress Chapter 1

I saw it on a TikTok posted by one of Mark’s residents. A short, looping video of her, Jenna, clinging to his arm, her steps perfectly in sync with his.

The caption read: “Wherever my attending goes, I go. So lucky to have the best mentor in the world.”

And then I saw the comment from Mark’s official account: “Better hold on tight. Don’t want you getting lost and crying for me to come find you again!”

God, Mark never commented on anything. He didn’t even ‘like’ my posts, claiming he never had the time. But suddenly, here he was, with not just the time, but the inclination to banter.

I locked my phone, my finger hovering for a second before I switched apps. Then I canceled the caterer for the wedding.

A man with no boundaries? No, I think I’ll pass.

* * *

Jenna’s face, bubbly and bright, flashed across my screen as I scrolled through six months of her digital life. Nearly every video featured Mark.

It was a slow burn of a story, from her initial, tentative interactions to the casual intimacy of her leaning into his side. The comments section was a chorus of encouragement.

“Girl, you should just snatch him up! He looks like he’d be a good kisser!”

“You can just tell he’s handsome from the back. That presence!”

“Good men are a limited resource, honey. You better act fast!”

Jenna’s reply to that one was a single, coy sentence: “I’m trying my best! ;)”

I scoffed, dismissing it, until a text from Mark came through: “Audrey, surgery ran late. Can’t make dinner tonight.”

The old me would have sent back a supportive message, full of understanding. But some strange impulse took over. I wanted to see for myself. So, I just replied, “Okay.”

After freshening up, I drove to the hospital.

I spotted them from the parking garage. Mark was walking out of the main entrance of the medical center, and Jenna was right behind him. She skipped a little to catch up, her hand finding his as she pressed close to his side.

“Dr. Ashton, let’s get dinner! I’m so nervous about the night shift.”

“What’s there to be nervous about?” Mark’s voice was warm, amused. “I’ll be there. You think I’d let you fail?”

The sound of his laugh, so easy and light, made my chest tighten. I’d braced myself for something, but seeing it—the casual way she held him, the way he smiled down at her—was a physical pain.

His eyes finally met mine across the asphalt, and his smile froze.

“Audrey?”

I forced a placid smile, grabbing the takeout container from the passenger seat. “Just passing through,” I said, holding it out. “Brought you dinner.”

Mark started to say something, but Jenna bounced forward before he could. “Oh, who’s this, Dr. Ashton? Is this your sister?”

Her feigned innocence was nauseating. I couldn’t be bothered to play her little game. Mark, however, frowned. “This is my fiancée, Jenna. Don’t be ridiculous.”

She stuck her tongue out playfully. “Oops, my bad! Sorry, ma’am, I couldn't tell.”

“Clearly, your observational skills could use some work,” I said, my voice dangerously sweet. “You’re a resident, so you must be what, twenty-five? I’m younger than you. The ‘ma’am’ is a bit much.” I held her gaze. “Poor eyesight is one thing, but you can’t afford to make a mistake on the operating table. That could be fatal. Right, Mark?”

Mark cleared his throat. Jenna’s eyes immediately welled with tears. She ducked her head. “I’m sorry, I was just joking. I’ll let you two talk.”

She scurried away, and Mark’s gaze followed her, his brow furrowed with concern. He turned back to me, his voice sharp. “Audrey, that was over the line. She likes to kid around, that’s all. You didn’t have to be so aggressive.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Are you serious, Mark? There’s a limit to ‘kidding around.’ How would you feel if you saw me walking out of my office holding hands with another man?”

He froze, his defense faltering. “That’s different. We were just messing around. Audrey, don’t make a big deal out of this. We’re about to get married. She’s just a student.”

Just a student. The words echoed in my head. I didn’t say another word, just rolled up my window and drove away. In the rearview mirror, I could see him standing there, his face a mask of frustration. But that wasn't my problem anymore.

Back home, I saw Jenna had already posted a new TikTok.

The video was a close-up of a fancy takeout box—my takeout box—on a table. The text overlay read: “Dealing with some random female jealousy today. I’ll never understand the way some women’s minds work. So thankful for Dr. A’s comfort food and pep talk!”

I let out a cold, humorless laugh. Mark, you didn't just cross a line. You torched it.

Just then, an email popped up from the wedding planner. “Ms. Miller, I’ve attached the finalized menu selections from the caterer. Please let me know if you’d like any changes.”

I glanced at the attachment, my finger hovering over the reply button. After a long moment, I typed back: “Let me review and get back to you.”

Thinking back, from the moment we got engaged, I had been the one making every single decision about this wedding.

Mark’s constant refrain was: “Audrey, I’m just too swamped. I trust you with all of this.”

“Whatever you think is best, Audrey.”