The ceremony was scheduled for exactly four o’clock, but when the music began, my groom, Zach, was nowhere to be found. At that exact moment, my mother sent a video to our family group chat. In the clip, Zach was down on one knee, proposing to my cousin, Cindy. The living room in the video was packed with relatives cheering and clapping. My father stood right beside them, his face stretched into a wide, beaming grin. I pulled off my veil, my chest tight, ready to demand an explanation. But before I could take a step, a notification popped up in the chat. My mother had tagged me. "Naomi, Cindy is your cousin. She’s spent her whole life letting you have the spotlight. It’s your turn to step aside and let her have this." My hands shook so hard I could barely dial her number. When she answered, I demanded to know why everyone had kept this from me. My mother’s voice was matter-of-fact, as if she were explaining the weather. "Because you’ve always been so narrow-minded, sweetie. If we told you beforehand, how would those two ever have had their happy ending?" "Just listen to me. You’re smart, you have your own business, you’ll find someone else. We’re family. Let’s not make a scene over some man." My throat closed up. I couldn’t squeeze out a single word. It wasn’t just my engagement that was a lie. My entire family was a fiction. … I stumbled back into the bridal suite. I sent a short text to Zach: The wedding is off. The phone rang almost instantly. "Naomi, have you not thrown enough of a tantrum?" Zach’s voice was sharp, laced with irritation. "Cindy literally just slit her wrists. And you’re sitting there obsessing over a ceremony?" I stared at myself in the vanity mirror. The pristine silk of my hand-embroidered wedding dress mocked me. Seven years. Seven years of my life, reduced to a bad joke. When I didn’t answer, Zach let out a heavy sigh, his tone softening just a fraction. "The doctor says she’s severely depressed, Naomi. Her only obsession, her only tether to this world, is to wear a wedding dress just once. To marry me, just once." "You’ve always been the strong one, the sensible one. Can’t you just help Cindy through this crisis?" "It’s just a ceremony. It’s not legally binding." "As soon as she’s stable, I’ll take you to the courthouse tomorrow to sign the papers." I looked at the silver band waiting on the velvet tray. I said nothing. Zach huffed, his patience wearing thin. "Hello? Naomi? Are you even listening?" Finally, I spoke. My voice was eerily quiet. "Zach, today is our seventh anniversary. We spent six months planning this wedding." "I know that," he cut in. "But this is life or death. You’re strong, Naomi. You’re mentally stable. Even if we don’t do the ceremony today, you’re still my fiancée." "But Cindy has nothing. She only has me." "If you really loved me, you’d understand what I’m going through." Then, over the receiver, I heard my mother’s voice in the background. "Zach, why are you wasting your breath on that ungrateful girl?" "She just can’t stand to see her cousin happy." "Cindy grew up without parents, living under our roof. I always said we should treat her like our own blood." "This wedding is happening for Cindy today." "If Naomi dares to make a scene, she is no longer my daughter." I hung up. Carefully, methodically, I unzipped the dress. I let the heavy silk pool at my feet and threw it onto the velvet sofa. My bridesmaid, Becca, pushed the door open, looking at me with wide, anxious eyes. "Naomi... the guests outside are starting to ask where the groom is." "He’s not coming," I said, picking up a cotton pad and soaking it in micellar water. "What?" Becca gasped. "He’s in the grand ballroom next door. Proposing to Cindy." I slowly wiped away the crimson lipstick from my mouth. The girl in the mirror looked paper-pale. My phone buzzed on the counter. A text from Zach. Naomi, Cindy said she absolutely loves that custom embroidery on your gown. Can you unzip it and send it over? Seeing her in it will help her recover faster. I stared at the screen. I stared at it for what felt like an eternity. I had spent three grueling months hand-stitching the intricate lace on that gown. My fingers had been pricked so many times they were raw, just to get the delicate floral patterns perfect. Zach had held my hands back then, kissing my bandaged fingertips, promising he would make me the most beautiful bride in the world. Now, he wanted me to hand it over to Cindy. I typed back a single word. Okay. Half an hour later, carrying the gown in a garment bag, I walked into the grand ballroom next door. The space was buzzing with life. Zach, looking sharp in his tuxedo, was gently wiping tears from Cindy's face. My mother held Cindy's hand, her face crinkling with joy. "Oh, Cindy, you look absolutely breathtaking today." "And Zach is such a responsible, wonderful man." "You two build a beautiful life together. I'll even help watch the kids." Aunt Carol, chewing on a candied pecan, spoke up loudly. "Cindy is the lucky one, after all." "Naomi is just too overbearing. What man can stand that?" "Exactly. Always so competitive, trying to steal everything from Cindy," my cousin Chelsea muttered, rolling her eyes. "Zach did the right thing. Real men protect the vulnerable." I stood in the shadows, watching this family of mine. Zach looked up and caught my eye. His brow furrowed, and he walked over quickly. "Why did you bring it yourself? You couldn't have just hired a courier?" There was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Are you trying to make Cindy feel guilty?" I handed him the bag. "The dress." Zach let out a sigh of relief, taking the bag. His voice softened again. "Thank you. Don't worry, once Cindy is better, I'll throw you a much grander wedding." He took two steps, then turned back. "But since you're here, just grab a seat. If you leave, Cindy might think you're angry, and it'll trigger her." The cold appetizers had already been served. I picked up a glazed pecan and put it in my mouth. It was sweet—so sweet it tasted bitter. Zach brought the dress to Cindy, who squealed with delight and ran to the dressing room to change. When she emerged, the room erupted into applause. The gown had been tailored specifically to my measurements. Cindy was shorter and thinner than me. The dress hung loosely on her, the hem dragging on the floor. But Zach looked at her with pure adoration. "Cindy, you're stunning." My mother dabbed her eyes with a tissue. "Thank God. I can finally look your late mother in the eye." Cindy held up the skirt, leaning shyly into Zach's chest. "Zach... do you think Naomi is mad at me? This was supposed to be my wedding. I feel like I'm stealing her place." Zach stroked her hair, his voice tender. "Of course not. Naomi isn't petty like that. She knows you're sick, so she willingly gave up the wedding for you. Look, she even brought the dress over herself." Zach pointed toward me. Every eye in the room turned my way. Cindy covered her mouth, her eyes welling with tears. "Naomi, do you really not blame me?" My mother rushed over, snatching the fork out of my hand. "Today is your cousin's special day. Why are you sitting here with a face like a funeral? Since you're here, raise a glass and wish them a lifetime of happiness." I looked at my mother. "Mom, today was supposed to be my special day too." My mother froze for a second, then waved her hand dismissively. "You and Zach have been together for seven years. Why do you care about these empty formalities? Don't you know how severe Cindy's depression is? The doctor said she could hurt herself at any moment. You're healthy, Naomi. What's wrong with letting her have this? Do you want to drive her to the edge?" Aunt Carol stepped in, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. "Naomi, I'm not trying to criticize you, but you have your own business, you're successful, you don't lack anything. Cindy only has Zach. Women should support women. Just be kind." "Exactly. We're family. Don't make a scene over a man," Chelsea chimed in. I looked at these relatives. They demanded I give up my fiancé, my wedding, my hand-stitched dress—all because I was strong, because I had "everything." Zach walked over, looking down at me with a tight frown. "Naomi, what is wrong with you today? You're usually so reasonable. Cindy is about to cry. Just apologize and tell her you're not angry." I stared at Zach. We had been together for seven years. He knew I had pulled eighty-hour weeks for a month to prepare for this wedding. He knew my greatest dream since childhood was to have a home of my own. Yet here he was, demanding I apologize to the woman who had stolen my groom. I stood up. I picked up a glass of red wine from the table. Zach's face paled, and he instinctively stepped in front of Cindy. "Naomi, what are you doing? Don't make a scene." He thought I was going to throw it. He was protecting her from me. I looked at him and felt a sudden, profound emptiness. I raised the glass and drank it in one draft. "May you live happily ever after." I set the glass down and walked out. Behind me, I heard Cindy's timid voice. "Zach, is Naomi still mad at me? Maybe I shouldn't wear this dress..." Zach cooed in response. "Don't worry about her. She's just being stubborn. She'll get over it in a couple of days." Leaving the hotel, I went back to the townhouse Zach and I had bought together in Charleston. We had picked it out together, split the down payment fifty-fifty, and I had personally spent weekends at hardware stores selecting every tile and light fixture. I pushed the door open. My pink slippers at the entryway were gone. In their place sat a pair of floral-patterned slippers—Cindy's favorite style. In the living room, the potted ivy I had nurtured for six months was stuffed into the trash can. The coffee table was cluttered with Cindy's prescription bottles and her favorite anime figurines. The bedroom door was half-open. Zach's best friend, Parker, was directing movers, packing my clothes into bags. "Hurry up, throw these old clothes into the guest bedroom. Change the master bedsheets to the floral ones Cindy likes." I stood in the doorway, watching quietly. Parker turned around and saw me. The awkwardness on his face lasted only a second before his defensive posture took over. "Hey, Naomi. Don't get the wrong idea." "Zach said Cindy's been having terrible insomnia. This place has great natural light, which is good for her recovery. Zach wants her to move in for a bit." I walked to the sofa and stared at the cheap plastic bags holding my belongings on the floor. "Why wasn't I told about my own things being packed?" Parker scratched his neck. "Zach said you were busy and didn't want to stress you out. Plus, you're always so generous, Naomi. You wouldn't mind a small favor like this, right?" He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Look, we all know Zach only loves you. But he's a responsible guy. He can't just abandon Cindy in her state. Just swallow your pride for a bit. Once she's better, the house is yours again." I looked at Parker. Just last week, he was calling me "sister-in-law" and begging to come over for dinner. Now, he was helping Zach throw my life into the trash. "Where is Zach?" I asked. "He took Cindy to buy new furniture. Said he wanted to make her feel safe here." Parker reached into his pocket and pulled out a jewelry box. "Oh, right. Zach wanted me to give you this. He knows today was rough on you. Think of it as an apology." I took the box and opened it. It was a necklace. Extremely expensive. But I have a severe contact allergy to metals. Zach and I had been together for seven years, and he had never bothered to remember. He only knew that money could solve problems. I tossed the box onto the coffee table. "Come on, Naomi, don't be like that," Parker frowned. "Zach went to three different boutiques to find this. Cindy wanted it, but he insisted on saving it for you." I knelt down and unzipped one of the plastic bags. Inside was my favorite dress, crumpled and dusty. Next to it was the hand-carved wooden comb Zach had given me for our anniversary. He had told me it symbolized a lifetime of devotion. I pulled out the comb. One of the teeth was already broken. I walked into the kitchen and tossed the comb into the trash bin, burying it beneath the sour smell of discarded food. Parker shouted from behind me, "Naomi, what are you doing? Zach spent hours carving that for you!" I didn't answer. I picked up my heavy bags and walked out of the townhouse. Behind me, I heard one of the movers ask, "Should we let her just leave like that?" Parker's voice was dismissive. "Ah, don't worry about it. Naomi can't live without Zach. He'll buy her some flowers in a couple of days, and she'll be fine." The next morning, Zach texted me. Naomi, Parker said you were upset yesterday? The townhouse is just a temporary place for Cindy to stay. Don't be so petty. I'm free this morning. Didn't we promise to visit our old high school teacher today? Yes, we had promised. After the wedding, we were supposed to visit Mrs. Gable. I stared at the screen and didn't reply. But I got up, washed my face, changed my clothes, and took a cab to the school anyway. Not to give him another chance. But to put a definitive period at the end of these seven years. At nine o'clock, I sat in front of Mrs. Gable. She looked at me with warm, motherly eyes. "Where is Zach? You two have been together for so long, and now you're finally married." She smiled, drifting into memories. "I remember when that boy worked his head off just to catch up to you academically. If he hadn't, I would have definitely stepped in to break you two up. You must be so happy." I managed a tight, bitter smile. Nine-thirty. Zach hadn't arrived. Ten o'clock. My phone finally rang. I could hear the rumbling of thunder in the background. "Naomi, are you there yet?" His voice sounded panicked. "Yes." "I'm so sorry. Cindy is terrified of thunder. There was a huge clap just now, and she's hiding in the closet, refusing to come out. I can't leave her." "Just apologize to Mrs. Gable for me. We'll go see her together next time." I kept quiet. Through the receiver, I heard Cindy's whimpering voice. "Zach, I'm scared..." "Don't worry, I'm right here," Zach murmured softly. Then he spoke back into the phone. "Naomi, don't throw a fit. Be sensible. Cindy is in a really bad place right now, and I don't have the energy for your drama." The line went dead. Mrs. Gable looked at me. "Naomi, dear, what's wrong?" The tears finally fell. "Mrs. Gable... I'm done with Zach." I didn't go back to my embroidery studio. I went straight to the station and bought a one-way ticket to Taos, New Mexico. While waiting for the train, I opened our family group chat. Zach had posted a video. In the video, Cindy was huddled on the sofa with a warm mug of milk. Zach was gently blow-drying her hair, his movements incredibly tender. His caption read: Taking care of my fragile little bird. Hoping the storm passes soon. Beneath it, a parade of relatives had left likes. My mother replied: Zach is such a good man. I can rest easy knowing Cindy is in your hands. Aunt Carol: Now this is what a real family looks like. I stared at the words, feeling absolutely nothing. I tapped on Zach's profile and deleted him. Then I left the family group chat. I blocked every single relative's number. Finally, I took out my SIM card and tossed it into the trash can. The boarding announcement echoed through the station. I picked up my suitcase and walked onto the platform without looking back. That evening at eight, after finally calming Cindy down, Zach returned to my studio. He was holding a strawberry shortcake—my favorite. "Naomi, I came to make it up to you," he said, pushing the door open. But the studio was completely empty. Only a discarded design sketch lay on the work table. The smile on his face slowly froze.
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