My Sister Is the Bride at My Wedding

My soul drifted in the air, coldly watching the wedding that was supposed to be mine take place.

All eyes were focused on the center stage at the wedding venue.

My sister, Sonia Quade, dressed in the wedding gown meant for me, was saying heartfelt vows to my fiancé, Yoseph Caldwell.

"Nia is finally happy now!" My parents kept murmuring in the audience as their eyes reddened with emotion.

Amid the crowd's cheers, the newlyweds beamed with happiness as they shared what they claimed were cherished memories.

Romantic encounters? Deep affection?

My presence was completely erased in their stories as if I had never existed.

The wedding dress that once felt tight and constricting on me now looked like it was tailored perfectly for Sonia.

I drifted in the air, growing colder and colder.

So this was it—from the very beginning, I was never meant to be the person to marry Yoseph today.

That explained why Yoseph had seemed so distracted during the wedding preparations; he was constantly smiling at his phone for no apparent reason.

But what I couldn't understand was why they had to use me as the sacrifice if they loved Sonia so much.

…

I died in a rented apartment not long ago.

My parents had tied my hands tightly, leaving me immobile. All I could do was watch in terror as a masked assailant broke in.

I was with child, but I was brutally assaulted and murdered.

My death was horrific—the attacker slowly sliced open my wrists with a knife, letting my blood drain bit by bit.

Before leaving, my parents had gagged me with a towel out of fear that I'd cry out for help.

I couldn't even whimper when I died.

Ever since I was little, my parents had always favored Sonia.

The snacks we both loved? I never got any.

The dress I longed for? Always bought for Sonia instead.

When we grew up and there wasn't enough money to send both of us to college, my parents didn't hesitate to give the tuition to Sonia. They told me to earn mine through part-time jobs.

But I never could have imagined that they would be so biased as to ask me to give up my fiancé for Sonia when she told them she had cancer and didn't have long to live.

What shattered me even more was that Yoseph, the man who had been with me since college, also betrayed me.

I watched coldly as this farcical wedding came to its perfect conclusion.

When they packed up and prepared to leave for their honeymoon, I followed them once again.

On the beaches of Anole, Yoseph and Sonia walked hand in hand along the shore, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun.

The warm sunlight spilled over them, and the sea breeze gently tousled their hair.

As Sonia affectionately wrapped her arms around Yoseph's neck, the two shared a passionate kiss.

Passersby looked on with envy, clapping and cheering for the couple.

Even my usually conservative parents stood by, cheering them on.

At this moment, no one would remember me, the one abandoned in a rented apartment.

Who would even care whether what they did to me was fair or not?