Wedding Invitation Named My Sister as the Bride, So I Called It Off

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On the day I got engaged, my brother-in-law rushed in from out of town and was killed in a car crash.

He died along with my three-year-old nephew.

A wedding turned into a funeral.

At the funeral, my fiancé beat his own chest, sick with guilt and remorse.

"It's all my fault. I insisted on getting engaged that day. If I hadn't, none of this would have happened to him!"

My sister cried until she fainted in his arms.

A few months later, my fiancé and I were getting married.

My sister, eyes still rimmed red, helped me plan the wedding.

She said, "Sis, the biggest regret of my whole life is that I never got to have a wedding of my own."

"So I'm going to make sure you go out in style!"

She chose the venue. She picked out my gown at the fitting. She named the hair and makeup team too.

The lilies printed on the invitations were her favorite flower, and even the name printed on them was hers.

I gripped the invitation and asked her point-blank.

"Polly Pruitt, is this your wedding or mine?"

My sister shrank into my fiancé's arms, her whole face wounded.

"I'm sorry, Katie. I didn't get it wrong on purpose."

"I'm just... so tired."

My fiancé cut in, furious, defending her.

"Enough. Stop making a scene."

"Your sister was kind enough to plan this whole wedding for you, one little slip-up happens, and you blow it out of proportion!"

"If it hadn't been for our engagement party, your brother-in-law would never have..."

We all fell silent.

Yes. Because of my engagement party, my sister lost her husband and her child.

So was I supposed to pay her back with a husband and a child of my own?

Since it wasn't my name on the invitation, then fine, I wouldn't be at this wedding.

...

"I'm sorry, Katie. It really was just a moment of carelessness."

"I'll have a new batch printed right away."

My sister wiped at her tears, so wounded, so small.

But I saw it clearly in her eyes: a flicker of someone who knew she had nothing to fear.

"All right, all right, your sister has pulled several all-nighters for your wedding, it's not that big a deal!"

Kieran Stephens wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, the motion practiced and easy.

He frowned at me.

"Don't worry about the reprinting. I'll take care of it."

Then his face melted into indulgence.

"Look at you, you nearly ran yourself into the ground over your sister's wedding!"

My sister coughed twice, and Kieran instantly pulled the scarf from his own neck and wrapped it around her.

"So busy with your sister's wedding you've been neglecting your own health!"

"You didn't have to do all this!"

The tenderness in Kieran's eyes cut into me hard.

That scarf, I knitted it myself. It took me a week of late nights.

It was my third-anniversary gift to him.

By now, I could no longer tell whether what Kieran felt for my sister was guilt or love.

"Kieran, I went to the hospital today. Don't you want to know why?"

Kieran was carefully tying the scarf into a knot. He didn't spare me a single glance.

"I told you and told you, less late nights, less coffee, but you just won't listen!"

I pressed a hand to my stomach, hesitated a few seconds, then told him.

"Kieran, I'm pregnant. Four weeks."

Kieran's hands went still. He finally turned his head.

My sister's eyes went blank for a few seconds too, then filled with grief.

She quietly turned away, but her shoulders were trembling.

Something seemed to flicker through Kieran's eyes.

He stared at my flat stomach, walked over, and stroked my hair.

His voice was gentle and utterly cold.

"Katie, get rid of it. We'll have others later."

I couldn't believe it. Confusion, then fury.

"Kieran, say that again!"

He held me lightly, patient, coaxing.

"Katie, your sister lost her child. She's still drowning in that grief."

"If we have a baby now, isn't that just rubbing salt in her wound?"

In his arms, which had gone colder by the second, two lines of tears rolled down my face.

Just because my sister lost her husband and her child, I didn't even deserve a child of my own?

"Fine. I'll get rid of it."

"This child really shouldn't have come."

My sister came over, reached across me, and lightly smoothed the crease between Kieran's brows.

"Kieran, you don't have to do this."

"It's my own wretched luck. The two of you..."

Kieran let go of me, gave her forehead a gentle flick, and smiled.

"This is how it should be. I just want you to come out of it soon."

"Only when you're happy can Katie and I be happy too."

The wind through the open door stirred the wind chimes, a soft jingling.

No one heard.

No one noticed I was leaving.

Behind me, Kieran was still gently comforting my sister.

I turned and walked away.

Between the two of them, there was no room for me.