My wife — the CEO’s daughter — constantly belittled me for what she called my “average salary,” even though I worked for her father’s company. I lived under the weight of her expectations and the sharper weight of my father-in-law’s disdain.
One afternoon, a college friend called with casual gossip that would change everything.
The Invitation That Fed My Pride
“Did you hear?” he said. “Antonio’s getting married.”
Before I could process the news, he added, “She’s marrying a construction worker. No money. Honestly, she still can’t choose well.”
I laughed — a hollow, arrogant laugh.
In my mind, I saw him already: a man in a wrinkled, budget suit, worn hands, a cheap tie. I decided right then that I would attend the wedding — not to congratulate her, but to show her what she had lost.
I pictured myself as the embodiment of success — the tailored dress, the luxury car, the confident entrance. I wanted her to regret letting me go.
The Grand Entrance That Fell Flat
The day of the wedding, I put on my most expensive designer dress and stepped into my glossy car. The moment I walked into the reception hall, I could feel eyes turning toward me. My chin lifted. I felt triumphant.
And then… I saw him.
The Groom I Never Expected
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