And before Emily could respond, the call disconnected. Emily stared at her phone screen with a sense of emptiness. The conversation hadn’t reassured her at all. On the contrary, it had fueled her suspicions even more. She tried calling back a few hours later, but her call was declined. Shortly after, she received a text message from Jason. Sorry, honey. The reception here is terrible. I’ll get back to you later. Bad reception. Since when was there bad reception at his mother’s house? Hadn’t they just installed a cell tower near the town only a month ago? The lie was too obvious, too clumsy.
That night, Emily couldn’t sleep. Her mind was filled with all sorts of terrible possibilities. She felt like a fool being blatantly deceived. To be certain, she tried calling Jason’s sister’s number and several of his cousins. The result was nil. No one answered, as if they had all conspired to isolate her from the truth.
The next day, anxiety turned into an obsession. Emily knew she couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. She needed proof. She needed certainty. She opened her laptop and began to browse social media, a desperate act she never imagined she would have to do. She started with Jessica’s account, her sister-in-law. The account was private. She moved on to the accounts of distant relatives, endlessly scrolling through their walls, searching for the slightest clue. After nearly an hour of fruitless searching, she was about to give up. Maybe she really was overthinking it. Maybe she was wrong to suspect her own husband. But just as she was about to close her laptop, a name caught her attention. The account of a distant cousin of Jason’s who lived in another city. Emily remembered this cousin was very active on social media. With a slightly trembling hand, she opened the cousin’s profile.
Her heart leaped. The most recent post from just 30 minutes ago was a photo. It wasn’t a photo of a sick person or a mournful atmosphere. It was a photo of a huge, beautiful bouquet of white roses and lilies. The bouquet was placed on a table with a satin tablecloth, and in the background, the decor of a lavish wedding altar was visible. Emily held her breath as she read the caption. The printed words slapped her across the face,
“Congratulations on your new life, Jessica and Mark. May you be a happy and blessed family. Sorry I couldn’t be there, but my best wishes are with you, Jessica.”
That name again. So, her gut feeling was right. The catering note wasn’t old. Today was Jessica’s wedding day, a lavish wedding they had hidden from her. And what about the news that Carol was gravely ill? Emily felt a wave of nausea. It was all a lie. Her mother-in-law’s illness, her husband’s concern, it was all part of a grand charade, a farce deliberately designed to push her away. Anger, pain, and humiliation churned in her chest. She didn’t cry. Her tears seemed to have frozen over with an icy rage. So this was the reason she couldn’t go. This was the reason everyone was silent. They didn’t want her there. They considered her unworthy to be part of their family’s happy day.
With fingers trembling with rage, Emily typed the name of the wedding planner whose logo appeared on the catering note into the Instagram search bar. The account appeared instantly and at the top of their profile was a colorful circle indicating they were broadcasting live. Emily felt her heart was about to pound out of her chest. With a single click, she entered the live stream and her world shattered. Emily’s world shrank to the 6-in screen of her phone. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her throat, leaving her breathless. The live stream continued without a pause, uncaring that hundreds of miles away, a woman’s world was crumbling. The first thing she saw was a hotel ballroom transformed into a dreamlike garden. Thousands of white roses, liies, and orchids hung from glittering crystal chandeliers. Round tables with silk tablecloths were impeccably set, surrounded by guests in their finest dresses and evening suits. A soft orchestra filled the room with an atmosphere of luxury that stabbed at Emily’s heart. This wasn’t a family celebration. It was a declaration of opulence. The camera panned across the sea of people before finally settling on a bride and groom at a magnificent altar. There was Jessica, her sister-in-law, looking like a fairy tale princess. Her dress was covered in thousands of light reflecting crystals, and her smile was wide and happy. Beside her, Mark, her husband, looked handsome and elegant. They laughed, greeted guests, and posed for photos. There was not a trace of sadness there.
Then Emily’s eyes searched for her husband, for her mother-in-law, who was supposedly bedridden and gravely ill. It didn’t take her long to find them. The camera focused on the row of family members standing near the altar, and there she saw her, Carol, healthy, radiant, and as hotty as ever, was wearing a custom-made sage colored designer gown covered in shimmering sequins. Her hair was perfectly quiffed and gold jewelry adorned her neck and wrists. Her face glowed with pride as she greeted guests of honor, showing off the success of her daughter’s wedding. There were no ivy drips, no pale face, no signs of someone who had just suffered a health crisis the night before. Next to Carol stood Jason, her husband, the man who had embraced her that very morning with a lie. Jason wasn’t wearing the wrinkled shirt he usually wore in his hometown. He was in a tailored suit that fit him like a glove, his hair neatly styled and a smile that never left his lips. He looked happy, laughing with his relatives, patting friends on the back. He looked exactly like a proud brother on his sister’s wedding day, not like a son worried about his mother’s serious illness.
Seeing them all there, laughing in their exclusive circle of happiness, Emily felt something inside her break. The pain was unbearable. It was the pain of the deepest betrayal. She hadn’t just been uninvited. Her very existence had been erased under the pretext of a cruel lie. They considered her so insignificant, so bothersome that they had to invent a drama just to ensure she would never set foot at that party. Just then, as if fate wanted to pour gasoline on the fire already consuming her heart, the camera zoomed in on Carol, who was chatting animatedly with a sophisticated looking middle-aged woman. The music volume lowered slightly, allowing their conversation to be heard quite clearly through Emily’s phone speaker. The woman praised.
“The party is spectacular, Carol. Congratulations on Jessica’s wedding.”
