Chapter 5: The Wedding That Never Happened
The next morning, I woke up to chaos.
Not the kind I expected.
Not anger.
Not more accusations.
Something else.
Silence.
A strange, heavy silence.
I checked my phone.
There were hundreds of messages.
But one name stood out.
Daniel.
I opened his message.
*I called off the wedding.*
I stared at the words.
Even though I expected it, seeing it written down felt unreal.
A few seconds later, another message came.
*I’m sorry. I know this will hurt a lot of people.*
I didn’t know how to respond.
Because Daniel wasn’t just Vanessa’s fiancé.
He was someone I cared about.
Someone who had become part of our family.
I typed:
*Are you sure?*
His answer came quickly.
*Yes.*
Then:
*I watched that video twenty times last night. I kept hoping I was misunderstanding it. I wasn’t.*
I put my phone down.
Some part of me felt responsible.
Not logically.
Emotionally.
Because if I hadn’t spoken up, maybe the wedding would have happened.
Maybe everyone would have been happy.
But then I remembered Vanessa’s face when I was lying on the ground.
She wasn’t scared.
She wasn’t sorry.
She was annoyed.
And that memory pushed the guilt away.
My father arrived that afternoon.
He looked older.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
“I should have noticed,” he said.
We sat in silence for a while.
“You didn’t know.””
“I knew something was different.””
I looked at him.
“What do you mean?””
He sighed.
“After your accident, Vanessa changed.””
I frowned.
“Why didn’t you say anything?””
“Because I thought she was stressed.””
The same excuse.
The same mistake everyone made.
“She was planning a wedding.””
“I know.””
“She was under pressure.””
“I know.””
“But pressure doesn’t explain everything.””
My father looked down.
“I’m sorry.””
That was the first apology I received that didn’t come with an excuse.
And somehow, that made it harder.
Because I realized how much I had needed it.
Later that evening, my mother called.
This time, she sounded different.
“I need to tell you something.””
I sat up.
“What?””
“Vanessa came here.””
My heart tightened.
“What did she want?””
“She wanted me to convince you to take down the post.””
I laughed.
Of course.
“She said people were judging her.””
“Did she apologize?””
A long pause.
“No.””
I closed my eyes.
My mother whispered:
“She said she was sorry that things got out of control.””
Not sorry for hurting me.
Sorry for the consequences.
That difference mattered.
“Mom.””
“Yes?””
“Do you remember when we were kids and Vanessa broke my favorite necklace?””
“I remember.””
“She said she didn’t mean to.””
My mother smiled sadly.
“She cried for an hour.””
“Exactly.””
I looked at my injured arm.
“She always apologized when she thought she would lose something.””
The realization was painful.
Because maybe Vanessa wasn’t incapable of understanding pain.
Maybe she just didn’t care until it affected her.
That night, I received a message from Lily.
*You need to see this.*
Attached was a screenshot.
It was from Vanessa’s private group chat with her bridesmaids.
My heart sank.
“Where did you get this?””
Lily replied:
“One of the bridesmaids sent it.””
I opened the screenshot.
The messages were from two weeks earlier.
Vanessa:
*Emily is being dramatic again.*
Another bridesmaid:
*About her shoulder?*
Vanessa:
*Yes. She acts like she’s the only person who has problems.*
Another:
*But she was in a serious accident.*
Vanessa:
*I know. I’m just tired of everything being about her.*
I kept reading.
Then I saw the message that made my hands go cold.
Vanessa:
*Honestly, I think she likes being the victim.*
I stared at those words.
Because suddenly, the pool incident wasn’t random.
It wasn’t a bad joke.
It was part of something bigger.
A pattern.
A belief.
Vanessa had already decided who I was.
And no matter what I did, she saw me through that lens.
Lily called.
“Emily?””
I couldn’t speak.
“Are you okay?””
I swallowed.
“No.””
And for once, I didn’t pretend.
“I’m not.””
That night, I cried.
Not because of the pool.
Not because of the wedding.
Because I was grieving someone who was still alive.
My sister.
The person I thought I knew.
May you like
The person I loved.
The person I wasn’t sure I could ever trust again.
