At my final bridal fitting, I stepped out of the dressing room to find my sister, Daphne, straightening my fiancé Nolan’s bow tie. Nolan Hayes—the mafia Don feared throughout Boston’s underworld. I had just opened my mouth to say, “I’ll do it,” when the makeup artist smiled and walked toward Daphne. “Right this way, bride.” I stopped short. Nolan did not correct her. The black-suited guards stationed outside the door kept their eyes forward. Daphne only smiled shyly and leaned against him. Meanwhile, Miles—my childhood friend—raised his camera and began taking pictures of them. I stood frozen, like an outsider. Nearly every photo on Miles’s camera was of Daphne and my fiancé. There wasn’t a single shot of me—the actual bride. Daphne spoke as naturally as though she were the one getting married. “Fiona, bring me that bouquet.” When Nolan noticed I had not moved, he came over and gently took the flowers from my hands. Those eyes of his, eyes that had terrified countless men across negotiating tables, held a rare trace of warmth. “Fiona, what are you staring at? Go choose the invitation design. I’ll come over when we’re done with the photos.” Miles lowered the camera just enough for one eye to appear above the viewfinder. “Fiona, move a couple of steps to the side. You’re blocking the light.” I moved without a word and stood in the corner. At that moment, I finally understood how unnecessary I was. If this wedding had no need for me, then I wouldn’t be there. … I quietly picked up my bag from the bench and pushed open the door. The bell above it chimed once. No one called after me. I looked back. Daphne was twirling in front of the mirror while Nolan stood behind her, adjusting the bow at her waist. Miles held up his camera. “Yes, yes. That’s the angle.” The shutter clicked five or six times in quick succession. I turned away and walked out of the boutique. As I got into my car, the two black sedans assigned to protect me fell in behind me without a sound. My phone lit up with a message from the wedding planner. Miss Bennett, the wedding is coming up. Have you chosen the invitation design? Before I could answer, another message arrived. Or you could let your sister choose. She has excellent taste. The car was so quiet that I could hear every breath I took. One after another, as though I were counting something. What was I counting? How many times I had been forgotten in this relationship? I typed three words. Let her decide. I meant it. Let Daphne decide. Nolan would listen to her in the end anyway. The reply came almost instantly. Got it. I stared at those words and imagined the planner breathing a sigh of relief. Every decision the bride made was always changed afterward. They were probably tired of revising the plans over and over. It was easier to let my sister make the decisions from the start. Before I could put my phone down, notifications began pouring in. Miles was uploading photos to the group chat one by one. I opened one. His composition was excellent. The light fell perfectly across their faces. Nolan stood in a sharply tailored black suit, and the two of them looked like the stars of a bridal campaign announcing the future wife of the Hayes Don. I had poured everything into this wedding, as though doing so could prove that I was not always the one who got forgotten. I never imagined that, in the end, I would still be pushed out of the frame. My phone lit up, went dark, then lit up again. Messages kept filling the group chat. I did not respond. No one noticed. I dismissed my escort detail and drove alone to the apartment I had been renting. A note was stuck to the refrigerator. Seven days until the wedding. I peeled it off, crushed it into a ball, and dropped it into the trash.
The next morning, I checked my phone. The wedding-planning group chat showed 99+ unread messages. Daphne had tagged me only once, in a voice message. I tapped it. “Fiona, I changed the wedding song. The song you picked was too gloomy. The wedding should feel lighter.” Nolan replied immediately beneath it. Agreed. The original song doesn’t suit the occasion. Half the family will be there. Choose something lighter. The original song did not suit the occasion? I had spent an entire month choosing it. It was the song my parents had played at their wedding. Hearing it always made my eyes burn. They had died far too young, and I had wanted them to be present in some small way. Nolan knew that. So did Daphne. Yet they still thought it was too gloomy. Daphne continued in the chat. “Fiona never likes making decisions. We can just choose these things for her.” Nolan replied with one word. Agreed. I stared at it without moving. Messages streamed past one after another. No one noticed that Fiona was in the group chat. No one noticed that Fiona was silent. I had no role in my own wedding. I opened my private conversation with Nolan. The last exchange was still from yesterday’s bridal shoot. I had written, I’m a little nervous. He had replied with a head-pat emoji. After that, nothing. He had not even messaged me privately after I left early to ask what was wrong. The only thing he had done was tag me in the group the night before. What happened? Did you get so nervous you left early? No one answered. No one cared. Daphne posted a photo with the caption, Fiona, today’s shoot went perfectly. The dress is officially confirmed! And just like that, the matter was forgotten. Then they went back to discussing flowers, invitations, and the ceremony backdrop. Suddenly, I realized I was not merely unnecessary. Being unnecessary would at least mean I had once existed. I felt as though I had never been there at all. While I was packing, Daphne suddenly video-called me. When I answered, someone was applying her makeup. “Fiona, you’re moving way too slowly. The makeup team still isn’t confirmed, so I booked one myself. I’m testing them out for you first.” I looked at Daphne in front of the mirror and wanted to say something, but I no longer knew what. Two weeks earlier, I had told her my friend would personally do my bridal makeup. But it was as though my wishes never reached her. She simply made every decision for me. Had I never confronted them? Had I never been unhappy? Had I never stood my ground? I had. It always ended with the same line. “Fiona, you’re more mature than she is. Don’t make a big deal out of this.” Miles had known me longer than anyone, yet he always took her side. Then Nolan entered my life and pursued me relentlessly. The man known throughout the underworld for his ruthlessness and decisiveness would personally drive me home late at night and tell me my quiet, absentminded ways were adorable. I thought he liked me that way. But after he met Daphne, his preferences seemed to change. Without realizing it, he began saying that women should be lively and decisive. One day, I finally said, “Can you stop being so close to Daphne? You need better boundaries with her.” I thought he would understand. Instead, he laughed, ruffled my hair, and dismissed it. “Boundaries? Once you marry me, Daphne will be part of the Hayes family too. Do you expect me to treat her like a stranger?” I fell silent. Of course I didn’t want them at each other’s throats. But the words, You’re more mature, so you should be more understanding, had weighed on me for years. For the first time, those words felt heavy enough to suffocate me. They had forgotten that I was only two years older than she was. I wanted gifts too. I wanted someone to ask me, Do you like this? But no one ever cared.
I called my landlord and told him I was moving out that day. “Are you sure?” he asked. “You’ve lived there more than four years.” Four years. When Nolan and I first started dating, he had wanted me to move into the Hayes estate—a heavily guarded compound where his most trusted family members lived. Daphne said I should keep some private space before marriage and suggested I live alone. So I rented this apartment near the family’s downtown headquarters, hoping I would see Nolan more often. He agreed, and every now and then, he would slip away from his security detail and spend the night. These rooms had witnessed the sweetness of our early love, then the arguments, the silences, and the countless times he left in a hurry because of family business. But now I had finally reached the end of my patience. “Yes,” I said. “I’m moving today.” The landlord sighed and told me to leave the keys in the mailbox. Not long after I hung up, the door opened from the outside. Nolan and Daphne walked in, laughing together. Daphne glanced back at him with a smile. “You promised that when my lease ends, I can stay at your estate for a few weeks after the wedding. I want the room with the bay window in the east wing, and I want the curtains changed to pink.” I stood in the middle of the living room, convinced I had heard her wrong. She spoke so naturally, as though she had every right to decide how long she would stay and how our future home would be decorated. Nolan did not object. He smiled indulgently. “As long as Fiona doesn’t mind.” “Fiona always takes care of me. Of course she won’t mind.” Something loosened inside my throat. “What if I do mind?” The room went silent for two seconds. Daphne stared at me. Perhaps it was the first time I had ever truly refused her. Before she could say anything, her eyes were already turning red. Nolan’s tone sharpened with reproach. “What’s wrong with you, Fiona? You’ve always given her whatever she wanted. Now you’re going to make an issue out of one room?” “I’m not making an issue out of it.” “Then what are you saying?” He frowned. “Her lease is ending. She’d only be staying a few weeks. She’s your sister, not some outsider we need to guard against. The estate is enormous. What difference would one extra person make for a few weeks?” “That is supposed to be our home after the wedding. The home of the future lady of the Hayes family.” I looked at him. “Which one of us is marrying you?” That shut Nolan up. Daphne spoke softly, eyes red. “Fiona, I only wanted to be close to you. If you don’t want me there, forget it. I won’t move in.” Nolan turned to me with reproach. “Look what you’ve done. One sentence, and you’ve hurt her this badly. She’s your sister. Can’t you think about her feelings?” “And who thinks about mine?” I lifted my head. “You personally brought her into a company owned by the Hayes family and approved a salary far above everyone else at her level. She has almost nothing to worry about. What about me? All I have is—” “Enough.” Nolan’s expression changed. “Be reasonable. She’s your sister. I only take special care of her because of you. Do you really have to be this petty?” Petty. That word again. I smiled and stopped speaking. Daphne tugged at his sleeve. “Nolan, stop. Fiona is probably just in a bad mood.” He patted her hand, then softened his voice toward me. “Fiona, I’ve already made the decision. It will be good for Daphne to stay with us. You two can keep living close to each other.” I nodded. Agreed. It was their home, after all. I would never live there. Nolan relaxed. Daphne dabbed at the corners of her dry eyes and smiled again. I turned back to my packing. Behind me, Daphne asked, “So I really can change the curtains to pale pink?” Nolan laughed softly. “Whatever you like.”
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