The Pearls of Betrayal

On our wedding day, it was time for my fiancé's foster sister to give her toast.

She smiled, stood up, and raised her glass toward me.

"Congratulations, Chloe. By the way, those seven genital pearling beads my brother has down there? I put them in with my own two hands."

"One bead every single year. So, how's it feel? Good, right? Consider that my little wedding gift to you."

The color drained from my face.

All those years we had been together, even during our most intimate moments, he had never let me touch them. And now I found out his foster sister was the one who put them in.