No family members attended my wedding because my sister’s engagement was “more important.” Hours later, her lavish banquet canceled out of loyalty to me. While I was celebrating, my phone exploded with furious voice messages: “Do you have any idea how embarrassed we were?”

However, every time my eyes drifted to those empty wooden chairs, I felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing my chest until I couldn’t breathe.

Later that evening, while we were cutting our wedding cake, my cell phone suddenly lit up with a barrage of notifications.

My mother sent a message that read, “We need to talk to you right now.”

Then came a phone call, followed by another one, and then another one, until the screen was vibrating incessantly.

In less than one hour, I had fifty-two missed calls from various family members.

I walked out into the quiet garden with my suit slightly wrinkled and my heart feeling completely shattered by their sheer audacity.

Then, a sudden text message arrived from my cousin, Sarah, who had stayed home.

“You will not believe what they are saying about you at Isabelle’s party, so call me, but please do not tell anyone it was me who told you,” she wrote.

I called her back with cold, shaking hands.

Sarah answered in a hushed whisper, “Holden, your mother is telling everyone that you intentionally scheduled your wedding on this day to try to overshadow Isabelle.”

I felt the air leave my lungs in a painful rush.

“Are you serious, she actually said that?” I asked, my voice barely audible.