I dropped the news right at the altar: "I’m knocked up. It’s either you or your best man." Their faces? Priceless. But I was wet with power. They played rock-paper-scissors like good boys. Winner got the ring — and me, on my knees in lace. The loser? He watched, hard and silent. My parents walked in mid-thrust. I didn’t stop. The venue was booked. I was getting married one way or another.

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