Ditched Before the Wedding

The night before the wedding, Wayne slipped me a sleeping pill, allowing his childhood friend to cut my long hair. When I awoke and saw my reflection, I was devastated. Maya, with her hair styled in playful curls, feigned remorse: "Oops, my hand slipped. You’re not mad at me, are you?"

"It's all my fault for making Evelyn Robinson the ugliest bride ever!" Wayne teased, playfully tapping her nose, excusing her behavior: "Just throw on a wig. The veil covers everything; no one will outshine you."

The room fell silent as everyone waited for me to react, expecting a tantrum like before. Instead, I calmly removed the engagement ring from my finger and placed it in Maya's hand: "Why go through the motions? Just switch brides; the veil hides everything anyway."

My unexpected response took them by surprise. "I only wanted to give you a new hairstyle, Evelyn, but it just slipped... Please don’t be upset," Maya pleaded, leaning into Wayne, her eyes brimming with crocodile tears. The others avoided eye contact, mumbling attempts to ease the tension: "You’re misunderstanding, Evelyn. We’re all Wayne’s friends, and you’re his only bride."

Wayne realized the situation and defended Maya: "She’s just being playful; she meant no harm."

Cutting the bride's hair on the night before the wedding—how can that be harmless? Such a flimsy excuse. I met Wayne's protective gaze and laughed sarcastically: "Who knows when she might feel like playing bride again? Maybe I should bow out now."

Wayne’s face darkened, his frustration evident: "Evelyn, enough! Maya's immature and impulsive. Are you seriously going to blame her?"

Silence enveloped the room. Never mind that I'm younger than Maya. Even if she were truly a child, no child would do something as outrageous as cutting the bride's hair the night before her wedding!

I watched as Wayne defended Maya, offering her the care and attention I once received. "Evelyn, blame me, not Wayne. If you’re angry, yell at me or hit me; I won’t resist!" Maya peered from behind Wayne, pretending to be vulnerable, her eyes mocking me.

Wayne softened his tone: "How is this your fault? I’m the one who gave her the sleeping pill; blame me. I’ve spoiled her and let her act out."

A weight pressed on my chest. Wayne had promised to stand by me, letting me be myself without suffering any injustice. Yet, somehow, despite Maya being in the wrong, it felt like I was the one to blame in his eyes.

He comforted Maya with tenderness I’d never known. Watching the scene unfold was ironic. Once, I might have made a scene, fought for fairness. But now, I felt numbed. In this relationship, I had lost everything.