Night Before Wedding, Husband Gives My $370,000 Venue to Brother

4: 4

At ten the next morning, the wedding started right on schedule.

The woman marrying the older brother stood on the rose-covered stage I'd spent hundreds of thousands building, wearing the custom bridal veil I'd ordered.

She had her arm looped through Paddy's brother's, soaking up the guests' congratulations, chin lifted high, smiling like she'd never had a day this glorious in her life.

While she worked the room with her glass, raising toasts, she told everyone she met that this wedding was something I had "carefully prepared."

From the flowers to the lighting to the stage, every detail was my heartfelt gift to her wedding.

I stood in the corner, and her look was pure gloating, as if to say:

Doesn't matter how much you spent. I'm the one standing up here.

The in-laws sat at the head table, teacups in hand, faces creased with smiles.

Relatives came up in waves to toast them, praising how grand the wedding was, how beautiful the bride looked.

Paddy's mother took a slow sip of tea and said, smiling:

"It's all our family's heart in it. Only right."

Not one word about me, as if this wedding had been for the eldest son all along.

They stuck me at the table in the far corner, wouldn't even seat me at the head table.

Paddy's mother had made a point of crossing my name off the head-table list, and she explained it to me without so much as lifting her eyes:

"The head table's for the couple's elders. You sit off to the side for now. You've got your own ceremony tonight anyway."

A relative leaned in, looking at me, curious.

"Aren't you getting married today too?"

Before I could open my mouth, Paddy's mother cut in, all smiles:

"She's got her own ceremony tonight, no rush. Let her rest. The brother and his bride come first."

Paddy never said a word for me the whole time.

He sat at the head table, taking drinks in his brother's place, passing napkins to the bride.

Now and then he'd glance back at me, but his backside stayed welded to that head-table chair.

I kept my eyes on the two of them up front, pressing down the anger again and again, just waiting for the real show to start.

Six-thirty in the evening.

Per the schedule, the brother's party was supposed to clear the room and hand it over.

She showed no sign of leaving.

The guests were still there, the banquet still going, and she'd changed into a new toasting dress and was flitting around the room with her glass.

When she ran into someone she knew, she'd take their hand and smile like a flower in bloom.

"There's another one at eight, my brother-in-law and his bride. Don't go, everyone, stay and join us."

Light as air, like she was mentioning some throwaway bonus gift.

The place had long since fallen into a mess.

Table flowers tilted with no one to right them, the dessert table stripped bare since the afternoon, wine stains trodden all over the carpet.

Under the crystal ceiling I'd ordered hung their balloons and paper double-happiness cutouts, and even my welcome sign had been shoved off to the fire exit.

Some guests recognized the setup and murmured:

"Isn't this the venue the bride's family posted about earlier? She said she'd spent three months on it. How did it turn into the older brother's wedding?"

"Who knows. Didn't you see her sitting in the corner the whole time? Nobody's paid her any attention from start to finish."

The whispering grew, little by little.

She heard it, pretended she hadn't, and laughed louder.

Seven o'clock sharp.

She picked up the microphone again and stepped to the center of the stage.

"The person I have to thank most for today's wedding is my dear future sister-in-law. Thanks to all her care and effort preparing the venue, arranging the flowers, and even letting me use her gown and veil. I'm so touched."

She lifted her glass toward the crowd, her smile dazzling.

"There's a wedding for my brother-in-law and his bride at eight tonight too. Everyone has to stay and cheer them on!"

As soon as she finished, the in-laws led the applause.

Paddy clapped along, then nudged me with his elbow and urged under his breath:

"Go up and say a few words. Give everyone some face." I smiled a little.

Smoothed my skirt and walked up onstage, unhurried.

She eagerly held the microphone out to me, adding in a low voice, "Just say a quick thank-you."

I took the mic without looking at her.

I turned to face the room full of guests, unlocked my phone, opened an itemized bill, and read it out to the whole hall.