"In my heart, my husband is the most attractive man in the world."

Now I recognized that look in her eyes. I'd seen it a thousand times growing up—on every girl who'd ever laid eyes on Cedric. That stunned, breathless fascination.

Today, his hair was perfectly styled, his tailored suit accentuating his tall frame.

Kate wasn't going to help me. I was on my own.

I gripped the microphone until my knuckles went white.

"Cedric, you're mistaken. I've never had that kind of test!"

"Come on, don't play coy with me!" He was already striding toward my car, parked just outside. "I saw it earlier—the report's right in your front seat!"

He yanked open the door and rummaged inside.

"See? Right here!"

"Give that back!"

I lunged forward, ripping the paper from his hands before anyone else could see.

The reaction was instant. Every eye in the room sharpened with suspicion.

Cedric's face twisted into exaggerated shock.

"Irvin... why are you so nervous?" His voice dropped, thick with false concern. "Don't tell me you actually have it?"

"I don't!"

"Then let us see." He spread his hands, all innocence. "If the results are normal, everyone can relax. Problem solved."

My fingers tightened around the crumpled report.

Normal?

A dozen markers. Every single one positive.

If I showed this, Cedric Simmons would be finished. His reputation, his future—gone.

I still didn't understand why he was doing this. Why humiliate me at my own wedding?

But I couldn't stop remembering.

That rainy night when I was eight years old. A pack of kids had shoved me into the gutter, circling like hyenas, chanting ugly freak and scarface while mud soaked through my clothes.

Only one person had stepped between us.

"He got that scar saving someone's life! It's not his fault! What gives you the right to treat him like this?"

Cedric Simmons. My defender. My brother.

I couldn't destroy him.

Not even now.

Everyone praised him—handsome, kind-hearted, a genuine good guy.

For the first time in my life, I had someone willing to stand by my side.

So I wanted to protect him, just like I had when I was eight.

Even though I still didn't know how he'd contracted an STD.

I figured I'd ask him privately later.

"Cedric, please—you can't show that report. I'm begging you. Do it as a favor to me."

Cedric frowned.

"Give you a favor? And who's going to look out for all these innocent people?"