No Home To Go To

As soon as I finished speaking, Daniel Pearson frowned.

“Gem, your mom is right. A wedding is a major event. You wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of pressure.”

Becky Imrie gently chimed in. “Exactly, Gem. Leave the wedding to me. Don’t push yourself.”

I opened my mouth to try to tell them that I had rehearsed my vows hundreds of times and knew that I could get through them without a problem.

However, my throat closed up. I could not force out even a sound.

My mother, Jude Imrie, scoffed. “She went mute again. Why are you wasting your breath on her?”

With a beep, the video call ended.

Daniel posted a link to the wedding livestream on social media.

By the time I opened it, the ceremony had already begun.

Becky walked down the aisle in a wedding dress identical to mine. She was holding my favorite flowers and smiling radiantly.

The live chat was buzzing.

[Daniel chose Bec after all!]

[Becky and Daniel belong together. No one can convince me otherwise!]

I typed in the chat. [But Gemma is the bride.]

Someone replied instantly. [So what? Hasn’t it always been like this? Becky has to do everything for her. Come on. The little mute couldn’t even survive without Becky.]

My fingers trembled as I held the screen.

Back in school, whenever I lost my voice, Becky would step in and speak for me.

She stood up to the classmates who mocked me, answered teachers’ questions on my behalf, and even competed in public-speaking contests in my place.

After a while, even when I sometimes regained my voice, everyone simply assumed that I was mute.

Daniel and Becky never waited for me to find my voice. They made every decision for me before I had the chance.

It was no different this time.

No one asked what I wanted. They had simply replaced me as the bride.

A slideshow of Daniel and me from our engagement photo shoot was still playing on a large screen at the venue.

However, no one even looked up at it.

Every eye was on Becky.

Daniel took Becky’s hand. They exchanged rings and vows before the officiant.

When the officiant asked whether she took Daniel to be her husband, Becky lowered her eyes with a bashful smile and said, “I do.”

Those were supposed to be my words.

The guests erupted in applause.

Daniel’s groomsmen began chanting, “Kiss! Kiss!”

Blushing, Becky lowered her head and tugged at Daniel’s sleeve. “What are we supposed to do?”

Daniel stepped protectively in front of her.

“That’s enough, guys. Gem is the bride. Becky is only standing in for her.”

“Give it up, Daniel. Everyone knows you are in love with Becky.”

“Exactly. You already replaced the bride, so why keep pretending?”

“You two have probably been waiting for an excuse to make it official!”

Laughter swept through the venue. Not one person spared a thought for me.

After the ceremony, Becky made a post on social media.

In the photo, she and Daniel were nestled close together.

Off to one side stood a framed engagement portrait of Daniel and me, all but forgotten.

Her caption said: Not bad for my first time as a bride! Wishing my best friend and my childhood buddy a lifetime of happiness!

Daniel was the first to like it.

Someone commented: Bec, you are so nice. If it were me, I would’ve stayed as the bride! You and Daniel are perfect together!

My tears splashed onto the screen. I lost track of how long I cried.

Then, Mom posted a video.

Becky had changed into a different dress and was making the rounds with Daniel, greeting guests and accepting congratulations in my place.

She smiled effortlessly, carried herself with confidence, and downed her champagne without hesitation.

“Having a daughter as wonderful as Bec is such a blessing to our family.”

I had always known that everyone adored her.

My mother included.

Becky and I became stepsisters when my mother married her father.

Even though I was her biological daughter, she had always favored Becky.

At the end of the video, the champagne glass suddenly slipped from Becky’s hand and shattered on the floor.

She braced herself against the table and began retching uncontrollably.