My younger sister had known my date for months.
Mom explained that Madison couldn’t get another Saturday at her country club.
Then, as if that settled everything, she added, “Her venue is more expensive. More sophisticated.”
“You’re asking me to move my wedding?”
“Lauren, Madison’s wedding is the bigger event. Yours is small and intimate. You and Ryan can reschedule.”
Then Madison spoke in the background.
“Don’t make this weird. My wedding matters to more people. Yours is personal. It’ll still be cute any day.”
Cute.
Dad said everyone would attend hers.
Ryan and I could do something later.
Maybe a backyard dinner.
I asked the only question that mattered.
“So none of you are coming if I keep my date?”
Silence.
Then Mom said, “You’ll understand one day. Her wedding is just more important.”
I hung up.
Seconds later, Madison texted.
Don’t be hurt. You’ll understand when you have a real wedding like mine. Love you.
I stared at the screen.
This wasn’t new.
Madison’s milestones had always become family events. Mine mattered only when they didn’t interfere with hers.
But hearing them say it directly was different.
Ryan walked in carrying two sandwiches and sparkling water.
One look at me was enough.
