Humiliated at My Own Wedding,I Walked Away From the Billionaire

Just before the wedding began, Evan Gilbert's young assistant said she wanted to touch up my parents' hair and makeup.

Instead, she stamped two bright-red pork inspection marks on their faces.

“Pork quality: Grade A.”

Daisy Winfield held up the pork inspection stamp, laughing so hard she doubled over.

“Auntie, Uncle, don't you country folks love a festive touch?”

“Isn't this perfect? Just like a New Year's hog fresh off the market stall.”

The whole hall burst out laughing.

My mother froze where she stood, fumbling helplessly to wipe the red print off her face.

But the foundation smeared, and her whole face only looked worse.

She forced a smile at me.

“Sweetheart, Mom's fine. It'll come right off.”

My father kept his head down too, his fingertips rubbing the hem of his suit jacket over and over.

It was the suit he'd bought new for the wedding, and already the cuff was smudged with a patch of gel and foundation.

He offered a careful, apologetic smile “It's a wedding. The livelier, the better.”

I was shaking with rage, about to charge forward.

But Evan Gilbert stepped in front of Daisy first.

“Daisy went to all that trouble to recreate your country customs.”

“Don't be so ungrateful and blow this out of proportion.”

My parents' faces were a mess, yet they kept shaking their heads at me, afraid I'd be embarrassed.

Afraid, too, that I'd let my own wedding be ruined on their account.

And in that moment, I suddenly smiled.

My parents couldn't bear to put me in a hard spot.

But Evan could bear to let them be mocked in front of everyone.

In that case.

This wedding was off.

——

Daisy shrank behind Evan, her eyes reddening at once.

“Jill Sullivan, please don't be angry.”

“I really didn't mean to humiliate your parents.”

Her voice went painfully soft.

“I just saw them sitting in the lounge the whole time, not knowing what to do with their hands.”

“I was afraid they were too nervous, that they'd embarrass themselves during the tea ceremony.”

“So I only wanted to make them laugh a little.”

As she spoke, the tears spilled over.

“I never thought you'd mind this much.”

The laughter in the hall slowly died down.

But the way they looked at my parents still carried a contempt and amusement they hadn't quite managed to pull back.

My father stood with his head lowered.

That new suit wasn't actually expensive.

He'd saved for a long time before he bought it, at the department store back in the county town.

The cuffs were a touch too long, and the shoulders didn't quite fit.

But before we came, he'd tried it on again and again in front of the mirror.

And he'd asked me so carefully “Jilly, going to your wedding like this, will I make you lose face?”

Back then I'd smiled and fixed his tie for him.

“How could you?”

“You'll be the most dignified father in the whole room today.”

But now he stood in front of a hall full of guests.

A pork stamp on his face.

His cuff smeared with a mess of foundation and hair gel.

He was the one being humiliated, and still he was afraid of being a burden to me.

“Jilly, it's really nothing.”

“Don't fight with Evan.”

My mother nodded quickly too.

Her eyes were rimmed red, but she still made herself smile.

“Miss Winfield is young. She likes to have fun.”

“She meant well, helping us get dressed up.”

“See? Everyone has a laugh, and the wedding feels livelier for it.”

Watching the smiles they forced onto their faces, I felt something clamp down hard around my heart.

But Daisy seemed emboldened by my mother's words.

She sniffled and said in a small voice:

“Even Auntie says it's fine.”

“Jill, if you really make a scene over something this small, wouldn't that just make Uncle and Auntie even more uncomfortable?”

Evan frowned at me.

“You hear that?”

“Your parents have more sense than you do.”