And then I did something I have never regretted.  I’m telling my story here in the first comment, and I truly hope for your support. 

Calmly, without a single word, I stepped closer, snatched the sign from his hands, and slowly, demonstratively, tore it into tiny pieces. The sound of the paper ripping in the silence of the church was louder than any words. The groom froze, and the guests immediately stopped laughing.

— Are you mocking me? — I asked coldly, staring straight into his eyes.

— It was just a joke… — he mumbled awkwardly.

— A joke? At our wedding, in the church? What’s so funny about that?

I turned to the priest:

— I’m sorry, but there will be no wedding.

A whisper ran through the hall, someone gasped, others lowered their eyes.

Then I looked back at my “groom” and, summoning all my dignity, said:

— Well, I saved you. You’re free.

I turned around and slowly walked down the aisle toward the exit. My veil brushed lightly against the pews, while behind me rose a murmur of shocked voices. Some tried to stand up and say something, but I walked on steadily, without stopping.

He wanted a spectacle — and he got one. Just not the one he expected.