“Don’t be childish,” he snapped.
My chest tightened. “My wedding has been planned for over a year, Dad.”
“And your sister’s trip is important, too.”
“It’s a beach getaway with her friends!”
“It has major professional implications for her,” my father insisted.
Chloe worked as a social media content creator. According to my father, one of the women going on the trip had connections to international hotel chains, making the getaway an important networking opportunity.
“And me getting married isn’t important?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly.
“Don’t twist my words,” he replied coldly.
My mother cut back in. “We’re just asking for a little flexibility, Maya.”
I looked across the kitchen table at Julian, who was hearing every word over speakerphone.
“I am not changing my wedding date,” I said firmly.
My father responded almost immediately.
“Then we will not be attending.”
I went rigid. “What?”
“Perhaps you need to learn that your stubborn decisions carry real consequences.”
“Are you telling me that you’re skipping your eldest daughter’s wedding because Chloe wants to go to Bali?”
“I am telling you that you need a lesson in respect and humility.”
I waited for my mother to step in and tell him he had gone too far.
She didn’t.
She simply added, “Think carefully about this, Maya.”
Then they hung up.
For the next twelve weeks, I held onto a pathetic sliver of hope that they would change their minds.
When I finalized the reception seating chart, I kept their places.
When I submitted the venue’s final head count, I included them.
When the wedding planner asked whether she should remove the two empty chairs from the front row, I told her to leave them exactly where they were.
Even on the morning of the wedding, I kept checking my phone every few minutes.
CONTINUED ON THE NEXT PAGE.
