Part 3The Table Turned

"I'm certain.

"Remove the engagement portrait from the entrance and replace it with a family photograph.

"Put my parents' names at the center of the honor table.

"I'll send you a short video for the ballroom screen. Please have your team prepare it."

That evening, I organized every transfer receipt I had saved.

I also downloaded the recording from dinner.

I had started recording when Mrs. Matthews suggested the numbered-envelope game.

I had only wanted a record of the wedding details in case I forgot something after we went home.

Instead, I had captured the exact moment my last hope in Derek disappeared.

Early the next morning, Paige posted on her social feed.

She named no one, but every word was aimed at me.

"Sometimes treating another family as your own only makes the future lady of the house uncomfortable.

"I crossed a boundary.

"From now on, I'll keep my distance so I never make things difficult for anyone again."

She attached a photograph of herself sitting by a window with reddened eyes.

The Matthews relatives crowded into the comments.

"Don't cry, Paige. Everyone knows what kind of person you are."

"Some women start acting like queens before the wedding. Imagine what she'll be like afterward."

"All this over two seats. How petty."

"Poor Derek. Imagine marrying someone that difficult."

I stared at the comments until my fingers slowly curled around the phone.

To them, my parents' dignity truly was nothing more than a fuss over two seats.

Derek messaged me soon afterward.

"Did you see Paige's post?

"You pushed her to this point. Are you satisfied now?"

I replied:

"You and your family made my parents cry too."

It took him a long time to answer.

"Can you stop using your parents to justify everything?

"The real problem that night was how impulsively you reacted.

"The invitations have already gone out. Canceling now will turn us into a public joke."

I read the messages and felt strangely calm.

It was not that he failed to understand.

He had simply never valued my pain, or my parents' humiliation, as highly as his own reputation.

I didn't respond again.

On the night before the wedding, Derek's messages gradually shifted from anger to reluctant compromise.

"Hannah, stop this.

"The invitations are out. We cannot simply cancel the wedding.

"I know you're still angry. After the ceremony, I'll have my mother apologize to your parents herself.

"We'll restore the original seating. Paige's parents will not be at the honor table.

"You've wanted this wedding for years. Don't ruin it just to prove a point."

His final messages arrived at two in the morning.

"I'll come for you as planned tomorrow.

"I know you'll be waiting."

I looked at those words and felt nothing.

He did not know I would wait. He was merely accustomed to keeping me waiting.

Waiting while he took care of Paige.

Waiting while he soothed his mother.

Waiting while he dealt with every person and problem he considered more important than me.

And when he finally returned, I was expected to invent excuses for his lateness, neglect, and favoritism.

This time, I would not wait.

I silenced my phone and slipped it into my bag.

Then I slept more soundly than I had in days.

The wedding morning dawned bright and clear.

Derek stood before a mirror in his tuxedo, a boutonniere pinned to his lapel.

His best man teased him from nearby.

"Still in the doghouse, Derek?

"Brides get emotional before the wedding.

"Once you reach her house, say the right things and she'll be fine."

Derek said nothing and looked down at his phone.

Hannah McGraw's profile picture sat silently above the unanswered conversation.