Ivy never expected to be left out of her best friend’s wedding—until she sneaked in and uncovered the shocking truth. The groom? Someone she’s known her entire life. The betrayal? Unforgivable. When her past collides with her present, Ivy must decide: walk away forever or confront the man who changed her fate?
The first time someone mentioned Amber’s wedding, I laughed.
“Wait, what, Amber?” I asked, sipping my coffee, completely distracted by the massive slice of cheesecake in front of me.
The table went silent. Four pairs of eyes blinked at me, as if I had just confessed to a crime.
“Are you serious, Ivy?” Lauren finally asked. “Amber. Our Amber.”
My stomach twisted.
“No. She would have told me. She had to! This is a joke, right?”
Jack shifted uncomfortably, nearly knocking over his coffee.
“Ivy… she sent out invitations weeks ago. Almost a month.”
My coffee nearly slipped from my hands.
My invitation never arrived.
At first, I told myself it had to be a mistake. Maybe it got lost in the mail? Maybe Amber was waiting to tell me in person?
But it didn’t make sense.
When we were kids, we always talked about being each other’s bridesmaids… so what was this?
Weeks passed. More invitations were sent. I saw our mutual friends posting on social media, tagging Amber, all giddy about being part of her big day.
“Can’t wait to celebrate!”
“You’re going to be the most beautiful bride, Amber!”
“Bachelorette party time!”
Dresses were bought.
“I found the perfect navy blue dress, Ivy,” Lauren told me over the phone. “And my grandma’s earrings will complete the look. Have you picked yours yet?”
“Lauren… I wasn’t invited.”
I never asked Amber why.
I waited. Gave her every opportunity to say something.
But she never did.
Not even when we went to get our nails done together.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to see her, but I needed to give her a chance to be honest.
“I think I’ll go with neutral nails,” Amber said, smiling at me.
I looked at her hand.
She wasn’t even wearing her engagement ring.
“Beautiful,” I said. “I’m thinking fire red.”
Why was she hiding something this big from me? Had I done something to hurt her?
Did she think I would try to stop her wedding?
Did she think I wanted to steal her fiancé?
What the hell?
But something wasn’t right. I could feel it deep in my bones. Amber was avoiding me.
And I needed to know why.
On the day of the wedding, I snuck in.
I hadn’t spoken to Amber since that nail appointment. Not since the wedding conversation spiraled out of control.
She had even blocked me.
Lauren sent me screenshots of her posts.
“I’m sorry, Ivy,” she told me one afternoon as we sat in the park eating ice cream. “I don’t know what’s up with her. Have you tried talking to her?”
“We got our nails done weeks ago,” I admitted. “But I didn’t ask her directly. She wasn’t wearing her ring… I guess she really doesn’t want me there.”
And yet, here I was, standing outside the venue, watching the guests arrive, their laughter filling the air.
I felt completely out of place.
I knew most of these people. Amber and I had been so close for so long that her family felt like mine.
She would have told me. She should have told me.
Why didn’t she?
I thought back to the last time we spoke, before anyone mentioned the wedding, before it appeared on social media.
We had been in her apartment, sitting on the floor, sharing a bottle of wine.
Wedding magazines were scattered between us, and I had circled a dress I knew she’d love.
She had been quiet that night. Tense.
I ignored it, assuming she was stressed about work.
“Why do you have so many wedding magazines?” I had asked.
“It’s for my next project,” she said carefully. “Designing and making a wedding dress. If I do this right, Ivy, I’ll get more clients. I just know it.”
Had she been lying?
Was she already planning her own wedding in secret?
I remembered how tightly she gripped her wine glass when I asked about her dream wedding dress.
She practically shut down when I asked about her dream groom.
I should have known something was wrong.
I didn’t sneak in like some dramatic movie scene.
I simply walked through the doors with confidence, pretending I belonged there.
Even when I picked out my outfit, I didn’t want to stand out. I wanted to blend in—dressed nice enough for the occasion, but not enough to attract attention.
The venue was stunning. Warm golden lights, elegant décor.
It was perfect.
It had Amber’s name all over it.
She had poured her heart into this wedding.
Guests mingled, soft romantic music played, champagne flowed.
And for a moment, I convinced myself this was all a misunderstanding.
Until I stepped into the main hall.
And the room went silent.
People stared.
Some whispered. Others looked at me with pity, as if they had just witnessed a tragedy.
My stomach twisted so hard I thought I would collapse.
“Just breathe, Ivy,” I told myself.
But honestly… what the hell was going on?
Then, I saw her.
Amber stood at the front of the room, dressed in white, eyes wide as if she had seen a ghost.
And then… I saw him.
Standing at the altar, in a sleek black tux, holding Amber by the waist—
Was my father.
The same father who abandoned me when I was ten.
The same father I hadn’t seen since.
And suddenly, the world blurred.
Amber knew.
She had known all along.
That’s why she didn’t invite me.
She had been hiding it from me.
I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
Then, he spoke.
His voice was deeper than I remembered.
But the moment he said my name, I was ten years old again—standing by the window, waiting for a man who never came back.
But I wasn’t that little girl anymore.
And I wasn’t going to let them pretend this was normal.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
The guests were frozen.
Amber—my best friend, my sister in every way but blood—had kept this from me.
I turned to my father.
His face was unreadable.
“Are you just going to stand there and say nothing?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Ivy… I…”
Amber rushed forward, placing herself between us.
“Listen, I was going to tell you—”
“When, Amber?” I shot back. “Before or after the honeymoon? Or maybe when you got pregnant with my half-sibling?”
Her face crumpled.
“I didn’t know how—”
“How what?” My voice cracked. “How to tell me you were marrying my father? The man who left me when I was ten?”
I heard gasps, but I barely registered them.
I turned back to my father.
“Why now? After all these years, why Amber? Why her?”
He sighed.
“I know I owe you an explanation.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You owe me a hell of a lot more than that.”
I turned on my heel and walked out.
That was the last time I saw either of them.
