My parents didn’t move at first.
They stood at the back of the ballroom like guests who had stumbled into the wrong wedding. My mother’s expression flickered between shock and rage. My father looked deeply uncomfortable. Natalie? She clenched her jaw and walked out within seconds.
Andrew kept his arm around me the whole time. He leaned over and whispered, “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Better than ever.”
The guests—many of whom were extended family and old friends who’d seen the favoritism over the years—noticed everything. A few even whispered congratulations more pointedly than usual. I heard one aunt murmur, “About time she stood up to them.”
Still, I hadn’t planned it for revenge. I just wanted a clean slate. But life, apparently, had more in store.
Later that evening, while Andrew and I were dancing, my parents approached.
“We didn’t know,” my mother started, her voice icy. “That you would turn this into some… public embarrassment.”
I turned to her. “You mean the engagement party I paid for? The one you tried to cancel for a job promotion?”
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