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

I couldn't hold back another second. I reached out and took his arm.

"Dad, let me take you to put something on that burn."

My mother fumbled through her purse and pulled out two cash gift envelopes.

I knew there wasn't much money inside.

But it was every last bit of dignity they could offer.

For this wedding, my mom had gone to the bank a month ahead to exchange for crisp new bills.

She'd pressed them flat inside a thick book, one by one, saying that was how they'd look nice when you handed them over.

She'd even tucked the envelopes under her pillow for days.

Afraid the corners might curl.

The day she showed me, her smile had been a little shy.

"Sweetheart, your dad and I can't give much."

"But every bill is clean and brand new."

"You take these, for good luck."

But just as the envelopes were being handed over, Daisy suddenly leaned in for a look.

"Sir, ma'am, isn't this envelope a little thin?"

Daisy blinked, then, as if something had just come to her, her smile went even lighter.

"Though I suppose it's no surprise."

"I heard that to marry into the Gilbert family, Jill sold the old house back home."

"Sir, ma'am, don't tell me you put every penny into Jill's dowry?"

"But this envelope doesn't exactly look like much, does it?"

My parents' faces went white in an instant.

Down in the crowd, people were murmuring, one ugly remark after another drifting our way.

I closed my eyes.

That old house was the last fallback my parents had left me.

In the old part of the city, in a great location.

Year after year, rumors of redevelopment had come and gone, and people had long been offering big money to buy it.

But my parents had never been willing to let it go.

They'd said, "We're keeping the house."

"If you're ever mistreated one day, at least you'll have somewhere to come home to."

But half a month ago, Evan's company ran into a cash-flow crisis.

He couldn't sleep, night after night.

I saw it, and quietly talked my parents into selling that house.

I wired the money into Evan's company as emergency funds.

Now, though, it seemed there'd been no need.

I took out my phone and messaged the finance department, telling her to transfer the money back to me at once.

In the few seconds my head was down, my father was already reaching frantically into his pocket.

"There's more, there's more."

"We put a little something aside too."

He drew a small, crumpled stack of cash from his inner pocket.

It was the money he'd scraped together for me on the trip, going without water, going without meals, tucked away as his last reserve.

I finally broke. I pressed my hand down over his.

"Dad, don't."

"You don't owe anyone a thing."

Daisy blinked, as if my voice had startled her.

"Jill, I didn't mean anything by it."

"I just thought, with the Gilberts throwing such a grand wedding, the bride's side ought to keep up appearances too."

"I only worried people might laugh at your parents."

Evan's face finally darkened.

"Daisy, that's enough."

Daisy lowered her head at once.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gilbert."

"I said the wrong thing again."

Evan sighed, his voice softening.

"No one blames you."

Then he looked at me.

"Jill."

"The ceremony's almost over."

"Don't keep dragging this out."

I stared at him, dazed.

The Evan Gilbert who, five years ago at my family's dinner table, had stepped in to spare my father.

He seemed to have truly died at some moment I never knew.

The man standing in front of me now.

His heart was already full of Daisy.

And I had nearly brought a man like this into the rest of my life.

Down in the crowd, the guests were still whispering.

My mother tugged gently, carefully, at my sleeve.

“Sweetheart, let it go.”

“Your dad and I are really fine.”

“Don't ruin your wedding over us.”

I looked at the red stamp still smeared on her face.

At the back of my father's hand, scalded red.

At the two of them, mocked in front of everyone, still fighting to hold their dignity together for my sake.

The last bit of hesitation in my heart finally shattered.

Slowly, I drew my hand back out of Evan's grip.

I picked up the teacup from the tray.

Everyone assumed I was going to continue with the tea ceremony.

Even Evan visibly let out a breath.

But in the next second.

I smashed the cup against the floor.

My voice was ice.

“This wedding is off.”