Ivy couldn’t believe she was excluded from her best friend’s wedding guest list. Overcome with curiosity, she crashed the party, only to uncover a shocking truth. The groom turned out to be someone she’s known her whole life. The betrayal? Unforgivable. As the past clashed with the present, Ivy was forced to decide: should she walk away permanently or confront the groom?

The first time someone mentioned Amber’s wedding, I laughed.

“Wait, Amber who?” I asked, sipping my coffee, utterly distracted by the giant slice of cheesecake in front of me.

The table fell silent. Four pairs of eyes looked at me as if I’d confessed to a crime.

“Are you serious, Ivy?” Lauren finally asked. “Amber Amber. Our Amber.”

My stomach dropped.

“No, she would’ve told me. Surely! You guys are just messing with me,” I replied.

Jack shifted uncomfortably, nearly spilling his coffee.

“Ivy, she… she sent the invitations weeks ago. Almost a month,” he revealed.

I nearly dropped my coffee.

My invitation never arrived.

At first, I told myself it was a mistake. Maybe it got lost in the mail? Or perhaps she was waiting to tell me in person?

But it didn’t make sense! When we were little, we always talked about being each other’s bridesmaids… so what was this about?

As weeks went by, more invitations were sent out. I saw other friends posting and tagging Amber on social media, all excited about being there on her big day.

“Can’t wait to celebrate you, Amber!”

“You’re going to be the most beautiful bride!”

“Bachelorette party!!”

Dresses were bought.

“I got a midnight blue dress, Ives,” Lauren told me over the phone. “And grandma’s earrings will complete the look perfectly. Have you decided what you’re going to wear?”

“Lauren, she hasn’t invited me yet,” I admitted. “So…”

I didn’t ask Amber why. I waited. And I offered her every opportunity to tell me. But she didn’t, not even when we went together to get our nails done.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to spend time with her, but I wanted to see if she’d tell me the truth. Or anything about her wedding, really. And honestly, I was so surprised she agreed to come with me.

“I’m going with a neutral manicure,” Amber said, smiling broadly.

When I looked at her hand, she wasn’t even wearing an engagement ring.

“Nice,” I said. “I’m going with a bright red.”

What had I done to make her willing to hide this huge secret from me? Did I hurt her somehow?

Did she think I would stop her wedding and run away with her groom?

What on earth?

Something was wrong, deep down, I could feel it. Amber was avoiding me, and I had to find out why.

So, on the day of the wedding, I crashed the party.

I hadn’t spoken to Amber since that nail appointment, nor even since wedding talks began to surface among our friends or on her social media. She had even blocked me, and Lauren was sending me screenshots of her posts.

“I’m sorry, Ives,” Lauren said one afternoon while we sat in the park eating ice cream. “I don’t know what happened to her. Have you tried talking to her?”

“We went for a manicure a few weeks ago,” I confessed. “But I didn’t ask her directly. She didn’t wear any ring or anything. It seems she really doesn’t want me there.”

But now, here I was, standing in front of the venue, watching guests enter, their laughter filling the air, merry discussions buzzing with excitement. I felt so out of place. I knew most of the people there. Amber and I had been friends so long that her family was like my own family.

She would’ve told me. She should’ve told me.

But why hadn’t she?

I remembered the last time we spoke before the wedding buzz began, whether from our friends or her social media.

We were at her apartment, sitting on the floor, sharing a bottle of wine between us. Wedding magazines were scattered on the table, and I pointed out a dress I knew she’d like.

She’d been quiet that evening. Tense. I blamed it on work stress.

“Why do you have so many wedding magazines?” I asked.

“Because this is the next project I’m working on,” she said carefully. “To design and tailor a wedding dress. If I do it right, Ivy, I’ll have more clients. I know it.”

Was she lying? Was she planning the wedding then?

Now, I reevaluated her expression, her fingers clutching her wine glass too tightly as I questioned her about her dream wedding dress. It got even worse when I asked about her ideal groom.

“I’ve grown out of wanting movie stars as husbands,” I laughed. “So, do you have a clear vision when you think about it?”

“You’re living too much in your head, Ivy,” she said, brushing me off.

I should’ve known then something was off.

I didn’t sneak in dramatically like a scene from a movie. I just walked through the door confidently, trying to make it seem like I belonged there.

Even when I decided what to wear, I didn’t want to stand out. I just wanted to blend in, look pretty enough for the occasion, but not draw attention.

The venue was stunning, with golden lights and elegant decor. It was perfect. Amber’s touch was evident in every detail. She had completely immersed herself in her wedding.

The guests strolled around, listening to soft, romantic music, holding glasses of champagne, heading to their seats.

And for a moment, I told myself maybe it was all just a big misunderstanding.

Until I stepped into the main hall, where guests had already taken their seats.

And guess what? The entire room fell silent.

People were looking at me, some whispering, others giving me sympathetic looks. It was like they were witnessing something tragic.

My stomach twisted with such force I thought I might collapse.

Breathe, Ivy, I told myself.

But honestly, what the heck was happening here?

Then I saw her.

Amber stood at the front of the room, in a breathtaking white dress, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

And then I saw him.

Standing at the altar, in a sleek black tux, his arm around Amber, was my father.

The same father who abandoned me when I was ten years old. The same father I hadn’t seen since.

Suddenly, the world blurred. And I felt like the floor had completely disappeared beneath me. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Amber knew.

She knew all along. That’s why I wasn’t invited.

She hid this from me.

I wished I could sink into the ground and disappear.

Then, my father spoke.

His voice was deeper than I remembered, but the moment he said my name, I felt like that ten-year-old girl again, waiting by the window for a man who never came back.

But I wasn’t that little girl anymore.

And I wasn’t going to let them pretend everything was normal.

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, my heels echoing on the polished floor.

The guests were still frozen, watching me, Amber, and my father.

Amber.

The girl who had been my best friend, my confidante, my sister in everything but blood, had hidden this from me.

I turned to my father. His face was unreadable.

I searched for something, remorse, shame, anything, but all I saw was hesitation.

It was as if he wasn’t sure if he should acknowledge me or not.

I gave him no choice.

“You.” My voice was firm, but inside, my heart was a raging storm.

“Are you going to stand there as if nothing happened?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers fidgeting nervously by his sides.

“I… Ivy…”

Then Amber rushed to intervene, stepping between us, her eyes pleading with me.

“Listen, I wanted to tell you…”

“When, Amber?” I burst out. “Before or after the honeymoon? Or maybe when you were pregnant with my stepbrother?”

She froze.

“I didn’t know how to…”

“How to what?” My voice cracked. “Tell me you’re marrying my father? The man who left me when I was ten?”

A murmur ran through the crowd, but I barely heard their reactions.

“Why now? After all these years, why Amber? Why her?”

My father took a deep breath, rubbing his temples as if it was just an awkward confrontation and not a due he owed.

“I know I owe you an explanation.”

I laughed sarcastically.

“You owe me so much more than that.”

He exhaled, finally looking me in the eyes.

“I left because I needed to, Ivy, not because I wanted to.”

I laughed harshly. It came out empty and bitter.

“You left me thinking you were dead or something. Left me believing I didn’t even warrant a ‘goodbye.’”

Amber was crying now, wiping her eyes as if she was the one who had lost something.

I turned to her, my voice sharp.

“And you? When did you think it was a good idea to marry my estranged father?”

She looked away, guilt written all over her face.

“Well, congratulations, I suppose,” I said. “You’re officially part of the family now. Hope it was worth it.”

I spun on my heel, heading for the exit.

“Ivy, please. I don’t want to lose you again, my dear.”

I stopped but didn’t turn around. My voice was cold and distant when I spoke.

“Please, Philip,” I said. “You lost me many years ago. You just weren’t bothered enough to find me.”

And with that, I walked out of my best friend’s wedding. Out of my father’s wedding.

And finally, out of their lives.

That night, I sat in my car, parked outside my house.

My head was still spinning, and the image of Amber and my father wouldn’t leave my mind. There was a part of me that wanted to know more… How they met and got together. But I didn’t care enough. I was too hurt.

Amber texted me.

“Ivy, I’m so sorry. Please talk to me.”

I looked at the text, my hands trembling.

Then, slowly, I deleted it.

Outside, the streetlight flickered.

For the first time in many years, I felt like I had finally stopped waiting at the window.

What was the point in waiting for this man? And waiting for Amber to realize how wrong she was?

No, thank you. I’m done.

What would have you done in my shoes? Share your thoughts and comments.