“Okay.”
“Madison has told me a lot about you over the past few months,” he said carefully. “Actually… she’s been pretty consistent. And I’m starting to think maybe it’s not true.”
My stomach tightened.
“What has she told you?”
Brandon took a deep breath.
“She said you have a serious drug problem. That you’ve been in and out of rehab multiple times. That you stole money from your parents to support your habit, and that’s why they had to cut you off financially.”
The words hit me like physical blows.
“She said you’re mentally unstable,” he continued, rushing now, “possibly dangerous. That she was worried you might cause a scene at the wedding.”
I stood frozen, processing what he’d just said.
“But,” Brandon added quickly, “you don’t seem like any of those things. You seem completely normal. Actually… you seem more put together than most people here. Including my new wife. So I’m confused.”
I swallowed hard.
“I don’t have a drug problem,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the rage building inside me. “I’ve never been to rehab. I’ve never stolen anything from anyone. I’m not mentally unstable.”
Brandon nodded slowly. “I didn’t think so. But why would she make all that up?”
“Because she’s jealous,” I said simply. “Because despite getting everything handed to her on a silver platter, she still sees me as a threat.”
“A threat?” he repeated, baffled. “How?”
I pulled the envelope from my clutch.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” I said. “Everyone will.”
He stared at the envelope, confused, but before he could ask more, someone called him back for photos. He left, throwing one more puzzled glance over his shoulder.
I stood there holding the envelope, my hands shaking slightly—not from nerves.
From anger.
From determination.
From the knowledge that I was about to blow up everything.
And I couldn’t wait.
The reception hall was stunning.
Chandeliers dripped crystal above round tables draped in ivory linens. Centerpieces of white roses and hydrangeas sat at every table, surrounded by flickering candles.
The head table was on a raised platform, giving Madison and Brandon a perfect view of their subjects.
I found my assigned seat at table eight.
As predicted, I was far from the head table—tucked in the back with people who barely knew me.
Aunt Helen and Uncle Thomas were at my table, along with some older cousins and a few family friends. At least the company was decent.
“This is ridiculous,” Aunt Helen muttered as we sat down. “You’re her sister, and they have you seated back here like you’re a stranger.”
“It’s fine,” I said again, because the words were an old reflex.
“It’s not fine,” she said, her voice hard. “It’s never been fine.”
Uncle Thomas shook his head. “Your parents have been pulling this garbage for twenty-five years, and I’m sick of watching it.”
I squeezed his hand under the table. “Thank you for noticing.”
Dinner was served—fancy plated meals that probably cost $100 a person. Filet mignon, roasted asparagus, truffle mashed potatoes.
It was delicious, but I could barely taste it.
My heart was pounding in anticipation.
After dinner, the speeches began.
The best man—one of Brandon’s college friends—went first. His speech was funny and warm, full of stories about Brandon’s loyalty and kindness.
It made me like Brandon more and worry about him more in equal measure.
Then came the maid of honor, Madison’s best friend since high school.
Her speech was different. Pointed.
“Madison has always known who her real supporters are,” she said, looking around the room meaningfully. “She surrounds herself with people who show up when it matters—who put her first—who understand what true family means. Not people who only appear when it’s convenient for them.”
The jab was clearly aimed at me.
Several people glanced my way.
I kept my face neutral, but inside I was seething.
Then Dad stood up.
“My beautiful daughter, Madison,” he began, voice thick with emotion. “Watching you grow into the woman you are today has been the greatest joy of my life. Your mother and I have given everything to our daughters, sacrificed so much to provide opportunities, to support their dreams.”
Leave a Comment