Greencloud
The day we took our engagement photos, the photographer said my smile looked a lot like my brother Wesley's.
Stefani Lundberg, my fiancée, immediately had Wesley change into the same white tuxedo. "Perfect chance to get a few keepsake shots."
When it was time to pick the photos, everyone crowded around Wesley's.
Mom said he was born to wear a white tux. Dad said he looked more distinguished than me, the actual groom.
Stefani studied the screen for a long moment, then pointed at a photo of Wesley looking back over his shoulder.
"Let's put this one at the wedding reception. It looks great."
I asked where my photo was supposed to go.
Only then did she seem to remember I was there.
"You and Wesley look so much alike. The guests won't even notice the difference.
"Besides, he's never getting married. It's not every day he gets to wear a custom tux."
I let out a quiet laugh.
From the time we were kids, life had always been harder for Wesley. That meant I was the one who had to give in.
If he wanted something, I was expected to hand it over. If he couldn't have it, neither could I.
Even my wedding had to become the dream he never got.
I slipped the only photo of Stefani and me out of the album.
I was standing beside her, trying hard to smile.
Now it felt like I was looking at strangers.
Spring hadn't failed to come.
I'd just spent too long standing in someone else's shadow, waiting for it.
This time, I was done waiting.