On the wedding day, there was no bridal procession, no family or friends in attendance. The large, old mansion wasn’t decorated at all. Not a single thing represent wedding on sight. When I arrived in a simple white dress, I found the lively Larsen family gathered around Becky, chatting animatedly. They glanced at me—disinterested, even. No one made an effort to approach, especially Mrs. Montgomery who was sitting at the head of the table.
In the past, I would’ve gone out of my way to win her approval, even if it meant enduring countless humiliations. But now, I understood: if Derick truly wanted to marry me, he wouldn’t allow me to be treated with such disdain.
Derick came down the stairs, a smudge of lipstick still visible on his collar. Everyone noticed, and mocking glances immediately turned toward me. Ignoring them, I took a picture of the scene to send to my parents. Derick didn’t seem to care either; he simply looked me up and down and asked, “Why aren’t you wearing your wedding dress?”
I stared at him in silence, and it took him a moment to realize he wasn’t dressed for the occasion either.