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My Mother-in-Law Chose My Best Friend Over Me Novel Cover

My Mother-in-Law Chose My Best Friend Over Me

During her wedding tea ceremony, the bride faces a humiliating betrayal. Her future mother-in-law presents her best friend, Beth, with a ten-thousand-dollar red envelope to adopt her as a daughter, while offering the bride a mere eight dollars. Worse, her groom, Earl Swanson, dismissed her outrage, expecting her to happily share her wedding day. Refusing to tolerate this blatant disrespect and their bizarre family dynamic, she sets her teacup down and calls off the marriage, telling Earl to marry Beth instead.
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Chapter 4

“You don't have to carry it for nine months, you don't have to go through the pain of childbirth, and you get a healthy baby boy for free. You come out ahead, don't you?”

I couldn't hold back another second. My hand shot up and slapped Earl across the face.

“Get out.”

“Take your mother and your mistress, and get out of my sight. Now.”

Earl clutched his cheek, staring at me like he couldn't believe it.

“Fine, fine, fine, Jocelyn, you chose this! Don't you dare regret it!”

“Mom, Beth, let's go! All these tables of good food and good wine, we'll eat them ourselves!”

They'd barely stepped out before the hotel's lobby manager knocked and came in, looking troubled.

“Miss Henson, what's going on out there?”

“Mr. Swanson was just shouting that the bride had been swapped, telling the emcee to announce it all over again.”

“And your relatives are leaving, whole groups of them, one after another.”

“The kitchen's asking me whether they should still bring out the thirty tables of premium seafood you ordered.”

I was about to say no, then an idea came to me.

“Serve it. Why wouldn't you?”

“It's their big happy day. Of course the good food and good wine should go out. Every last dish.”

Earl and his mother assumed I'd already paid the thirty tables in full.

After all, every piece of this wedding, from the venue down to a single piece of candy, I'd arranged myself.

But what they didn't know was that the owner of this hotel was my college senior.

Back when I booked the venue, he hadn't taken a cent of deposit from me.

We'd agreed I'd settle the whole thing tomorrow, once the banquet was over.

Which meant those thirty tables outside were, right up to this moment, still completely unpaid.

I looked at the manager and smiled.

“Do me a favor and pass a message to the owner.”

“From this moment on, that banquet out there has nothing to do with me. Not a single cent.”

“Whoever's wearing the wedding dress, whoever's toasting on that stage, whoever's eating this meal, that's who you bill.”

“And if they try to skip the bill, don't hold back. Lock the doors and call the police.”

The manager blinked, then caught on completely.

He'd been in this business for years. What kind of circus hadn't he seen?

“Don't worry, Miss Henson. I know exactly what to do.”

Once everything was handled, I took my parents by the arm and walked out of the hotel.

In the car on the way home, I idly opened my social media.

Sure enough, Beth couldn't wait. She'd already posted.

In the photo, she was wearing the toasting dress that was supposed to be mine, nestled against Earl.

Sharon stood beside her, holding her hand, grinning ear to ear.

The caption read: 【The right person at the right time. Double blessings. Thank you to my mother-in-law for all her love, and to my husband for stepping up.】

Below it, a few of the Swanson relatives had liked it and left comments:

【Beth really is a better match for our Earl.】

【That spread looks amazing, those lobsters look so fresh. That fool from the Henson family doesn't know what she's missing.】

Reading it, I wasn't angry at all. I nearly laughed out loud.

Eat up. Eat plenty.

I only worried that whatever you swallowed now, you'd be spitting right back up soon enough.

The banquet wound down. The guests, full of food and wine, started drifting out one by one with their party favors.

Earl, face flushed red from drinking, strutted along with his arm around Beth, ready to leave in the middle of a crowd of relatives.

That was when two rows of uniformed security guards appeared out of nowhere and blocked the way.

The manager stepped in front of Earl, bill in hand, wearing a polished professional smile.

“Mr. Swanson, congratulations on your marriage.”

“Today you booked thirty tables of premium seafood, for a total of five hundred thousand dollars.”

“Will you be paying by scan or by card?”

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