The day I tried on my wedding dress, I stepped out of the fitting room and found my younger sister, Chloe, straightening my fiancé’s bow tie. Adrian Westwood, the heir to Westwood Group—was looking at Chloe with a tenderness I knew all too well. I had just opened my mouth to say, “I’ll do it,” when the makeup artist smiled and went straight to Chloe. “Right this way, bride.” I froze where I stood. Adrian offered no explanation. The corner of his mouth simply lifted. Chloe lowered her eyes with a shy little smile and leaned into him. Oliver, my childhood friend, raised his camera and started taking shot after shot of them. “Don’t move. That’s a great pose.” I stood there awkwardly, clutching the skirt of my gown, watching them like an outsider. Most of Oliver’s shots were of Chloe and my fiancé. There were barely any of me, the actual bride-to-be. Chloe sounded so natural, as if she were the bride. “Emma, could you bring me that bouquet?” When Adrian saw I wasn’t answering, he came over and took the bouquet from my hands himself. “Emma, go pick out the invitation design. I’ll come find you after we’re done with the photos.” “What about the dress?” “Let Chloe choose it for you. The one she’s wearing looks good.” My gaze dropped. Adrian handed the bouquet to Chloe. Oliver lifted his camera and glanced at me from behind the viewfinder. “Emma, move a couple of steps to the side. You’re blocking the light.” I moved away without a word and stood in the corner. In that moment, I finally understood how unnecessary I was. Quietly, I went back into the fitting room, took off the wedding dress, and set it aside. When I reached the door, I looked back once. Chloe was twirling in front of the mirror. Adrian stood behind her, adjusting the bow at her waist. Oliver lifted his camera. “Yes, yes, that’s the angle.” A small, bitter laugh slipped out of me. If this wedding didn’t need me, then I wouldn’t be there. I turned and walked out of the bridal boutique. The moment I got into the car, my phone lit up. It was a message from the wedding planner. “Miss Lawson, have you decided on the invitation design?” My finger hovered above the screen when another message popped up. “Or you could have your sister help you choose. She has a great eye. Take a look at these two options she picked.” Two invitation samples appeared in the chat. There it was again. Let Chloe choose for me. My fingers tightened around the phone. I loved the ocean. Once, when I suggested to Adrian that we hold the wedding by the sea, Chloe wrinkled her nose in disgust. “What’s so great about a beach wedding? The waves are loud, and it feels too casual. A Westwood wedding belongs in a grand church filled with roses.” Adrian hadn’t hesitated for even a second. “Chloe is right. The beach is too casual.” Sitting in the car, I snapped back to myself and replied calmly. “Whatever.” In the end, Adrian would listen to her anyway. The reply came almost instantly. “Understood.” When I got home, messages started popping up one after another. Oliver was uploading photos to the wedding group chat. I tapped one open. In the photo, Adrian wore a sharply tailored black suit, while Chloe stood beside him in a white dress. They were smiling at each other as if she were the one he was about to marry. Tears slipped down my face. I stood, tore the sticky note off the fridge—the one that said “Seven days until the wedding”—crumpled it into a ball, and threw it in the trash.
Back at the bridal boutique, Chloe held the wedding dress against herself and asked, “Do you think this suits me?” Adrian smiled indulgently. “Of course. You have a beautiful figure.” Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he turned and looked around with a frown. “Where did Emma go?” Chloe said, “I don’t know. Honestly, it almost feels like the wedding doesn’t even matter to her.” My phone rang. It was Adrian. The second I answered, his voice came through sharp and cold. “Emma, where the hell did you run off to?” I leaned against the far end of the hallway, phone in hand, and answered flatly. “I’m a little tired. I came home first.” On the other end, Chloe sounded bright and cheerful. “Then get some rest. I’ve already picked out the dress and invitations for you.” Then came Adrian’s low voice, edged with reproach. “Look at Chloe. She’s been bending over backward to make sure everything is handled for you. Once this wedding is over, you owe her a real thank-you.” I looked at my pale reflection in the glass window and suddenly laughed. Was she really helping me, or was she just taking over my wedding without caring what I wanted? I said nothing else and hung up. When I woke the next morning, the wedding planning group chat was already sitting at 99+ unread messages. I opened the only voice message in which Chloe had tagged me. Her sweet, syrupy voice came through the speaker. “Emma, I changed the background music for you. The song you picked was too heavy. A wedding should feel lighter.” The very next second, Adrian’s reply appeared. [Yeah. The original song doesn’t fit. A lot of guests will be there. Change it to something lighter.] I stared at those words as my fingers slowly tightened. The song I had chosen was the one that had played at my parents’ wedding. I had once imagined that when the melody sounded at my own wedding, they would be there with me in another way, walking me down the aisle. But now everyone in the group chat was saying the new song was better. Not one person asked me, Emma, is that what you want? I set the phone face down on the table, and the room went instantly quiet. Deep in the closet hung the unopened garment bag for my wedding dress. On the desk sat the invitation sample. The embossed gold names on the cover stung my eyes. I threw it into the trash. I had once thought that, at least at this wedding, I would finally get to be the center of the story. But in the end, even the music, the dress, and the invitations had all been decided by someone else. My phone vibrated again. Chloe had sent a new message to the group. [Emma has never liked making decisions anyway. We can just decide these things for her.] Adrian replied, [All right.] I looked down at my suitcase and suddenly found it all ridiculous. Oliver had known me longer than anyone, yet he always took Chloe’s side. When Adrian was first pursuing me, he said I was quiet and gentle, the kind of woman a man wanted to protect. But after Chloe appeared, his tastes changed. He started saying girls should be more lively, more opinionated. I wanted someone to care about me too. I wanted someone to respect what I liked. But no one had ever asked me. Even this wedding, the one I had thought would finally let me be the heroine of my own life, had turned me into a backdrop again. I closed the suitcase and called my landlord. “I’m ending the lease on this apartment.” The landlord seemed to remember something. “Oh, right. You’re getting married. You’re moving into the Westwood residence, aren’t you?” “No,” I said. “I’m leaving Boston.”
The landlord paused for a moment, then said awkwardly that I could leave the key in the mailbox. After I finished packing, I stepped out of the bedroom. Just then, the front door opened. Adrian and Chloe came in together, laughing and talking. Chloe’s voice had that spoiled, coaxing sweetness to it. “You promised, Adrian. Once my lease is up, I’m moving into your estate. Save me the room with the bay window, okay? And change the curtains to that shade of pink I like.” Adrian didn’t object. His smile was indulgent. “As long as Emma doesn’t mind.” Chloe pouted playfully. “Emma has always taken care of me. Why would she mind?” She said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. All at once, I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. I frowned. “What if I say I do mind?” Chloe froze. The next second, tears gathered in her eyes. Adrian’s voice immediately turned reproachful. “Emma, what’s wrong with you? You’re really going to make a scene over one room?” “I’m not making a scene,” I said. He frowned. “Then what do you mean? She’s your sister, not some stranger you need to keep out. The estate is huge. What difference does one more person make?” “That’s supposed to be our home after the wedding. The home of the future Mrs. Westwood. Who exactly are you marrying?” My words stopped Adrian cold. Chloe lowered her eyes, already looking close to tears. “Emma, I just wanted to be closer to you. If you don’t want me there, then forget it. I won’t move in.” Adrian looked at me in disappointment. “Do you hear yourself? You just tore her down over one room. She’s your sister, Emma. Could you try thinking about her feelings?” I lifted my head. “Then who’s supposed to think about me?” “You arranged for her to work at a company under the Westwood family and approved a salary far above everyone else at her level. She barely has to worry about anything. And what do I have? I only—” Adrian cut me off with a frown. “Enough. She’s your sister. I only look out for her because of you. Do you really have to make everything so petty?” Petty. Again. I laughed softly and stopped speaking. Chloe tugged at his sleeve and whispered, “Adrian, don’t say that. Emma is probably just in a bad mood.” His tone softened. “Emma, I’ve already made the decision. Don’t be so small-minded.” I nodded with a cold smile. Fine. I would be leaving soon anyway. Whoever wanted to live in that estate could live there. Chloe dabbed the corners of her eyes, and her smile quickly returned. That afternoon, I went to Westwood Group headquarters. I put the access card to the Westwood residence, the key to Adrian’s private office, and everything else into a small bag and asked the receptionist to pass it on. Once that was done, I turned to leave. As I reached the stairwell with its dark carpet, I heard Adrian’s voice. “You want me to come with you on Saturday for your wedding manicure?” My hand tightened around the strap of my bag. “Yes. I just don’t want Emma taking it the wrong way. You know how she gets.” His voice came through the half-open door, carrying a faint smile. “Fine. I’ll take you. Don’t worry about Emma—I’ll talk to her.” I let out a bitter laugh. I had already decided to let go. What was I still waiting for? The next day, I loaded my packed luggage into the car and drove back to Hartwell, a seaside town in Maine. Before I left for good, I wanted to clean the old house my parents had left me. Aunt Grace and Uncle Henry, who lived nearby, came over to help. “Emma, why didn’t Adrian come back with you?” I shook my head. “I don’t know. He’s probably busy.” At dusk, Adrian arrived as scheduled for the pre-wedding family dinner. Adrian’s car stopped outside the yard. He stepped out first, while Chloe stood at his side like the lady of the house. When they saw me, the smiles on both their faces faltered. “Emma, why are you here?”
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