I used to dream about weddings.
Not in the fairytale way, with castles and ballgowns. My dream was simple—I just wanted to be there, to sit in the pews, to watch my siblings exchange vows, to celebrate with them. To be part of their happiness.
But that never happened. Because every single one of them left me out.
Oak, my oldest brother, got married when I was ten.
“You’re too young, Lena,” they said, patting my head as if that made it better.
At twelve, another wedding came and went, but I was still not allowed. At fifteen, I begged my sister, Ivy, to make an exception. She gave me that fake, sympathetic smile I had come to hate.
“If I let you come, Lena, I’d have to let other kids come too. It wouldn’t be fair, you know that.”
When would it be fair? I wondered for years.
At seventeen, Silas got married. By then, I had stopped caring. When Ezra, his twin, tied the knot soon after, I didn’t even ask if I could come.
What was the point? Why should I have to beg to be included in my own family?
And the worst part? My step-cousin, who had just turned eighteen, got an invite. But I didn’t.
I sent a half-hearted congratulations and spent the evening in my room with my boyfriend, Rowan, the man who would later become my fiancé.
That was the last time I let myself feel hurt over them.
So when I started planning my wedding, I made a simple decision:
None of them would be invited.
“Are you sure, Lena?” Rowan asked as he looked over the guest list. “I know they’ve been… problematic. But do you want to do the same thing? Or do you want to show them you’re better than that? That you can do things differently?”
I shook my head. “I’m not inviting them, Rowan. I want them to realize their actions have consequences. They don’t get to be there. They don’t get to share in our joy. They don’t get to laugh, cry, or throw rice and confetti. Nope.”
Rowan exhaled, then poured me a glass of wine. “Whatever you want, my love. It’s just that we’re twenty-three. We’re getting married young. I don’t want you to regret not having your mother there.”
I smiled at his thoughtfulness.
“No regrets, Rowan. I promise.”
So, the invitations went out, and it didn’t take long for my family to notice.
They stormed my apartment like a SWAT team, demanding answers.
“Why didn’t we get an invite to your wedding, Lena?” Oak asked, arms crossed.
I leaned against the doorframe, mirroring his stance.
I had waited for this moment. For years, I had waited for this moment.
“You didn’t want me at your weddings. Literally none of you wanted me there. So guess what? I don’t want you at mine. It’s simple logic.”
Silence settled over the room.
Their faces twisted between confusion and outrage.
“That’s different!” Ivy snapped. “There was alcohol and rowdy uncles! We were protecting you, Lena!”
I let out a laugh—bitter and hollow.
“I didn’t care about the party. I wanted to see you get married. You guys were my family. My older siblings, the people I loved most in the world. All I wanted was to be included.”
Then my mother, Marigold, stepped forward, her voice shrill. “This is cruel! I want all my kids together on your beautiful day!”
I tilted my head. “That’s ironic, Mom. But you didn’t seem to care when I was left out of their beautiful days.”
Guilt crept onto their faces. My siblings exchanged glances, shuffling on their feet. I could feel it—the discomfort, the realization settling in.
“It wasn’t personal, Lena,” Oak muttered.
I let his words hang in the air before replying.
“It was personal to me.”
Another silence. More shifting. Ivy tried to get my dog’s attention. He ignored her.
Finally, I sighed, wanting answers. “You know what? Fine. I’ll invite you. But only on one condition.”
They perked up instantly.
“What is it?” my mother asked.
“Tell me everything. No lies. No bullshit. Just the truth. Why was I really never included?”
A heavy silence fell.
Then Oak exhaled sharply, rubbing his beard. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
The tension thickened. My siblings exchanged looks, each waiting for someone else to speak.
Finally, Ivy sat down, clasping her hands. “Lena… you’re not actually our sister.”
Her words hit like a slap.
“What?” I gasped, my heart pounding.
“You’re our cousin,” she continued. “Dad’s brother was raising you alone. When he got sick and passed, Mom and Dad took you in. But we don’t know who your mother is.”
The room spun.
“No. That’s not… That is not true!”
My father, Ellis, stared at the floor, looking like a broken man. “Darling, we were going to tell you one day…”
“When?!” I shouted. “When I turned forty? Fifty? On my deathbed?”
No one spoke.
Then Ezra delivered the final blow. “We were just kids. And you, Lena… you needed attention. You weren’t our sibling, so we kind of distanced ourselves. You probably thought it was the age gap, huh?”
My voice was eerily calm. “You mean you decided I wasn’t family.”
He didn’t deny it.
I barely remember leaving. I just walked. I don’t know how long, but I ended up sitting on the curb outside Rowan’s apartment.
At some point, the door creaked open. Footsteps.
Then warmth. Rowan’s hoodie draping over my shoulders as he crouched beside me.
He didn’t ask. He just sat, our knees touching, reminding me I wasn’t alone.
Finally, I whispered, “I don’t think I exist.”
Rowan held me tighter. “You do, Lena. You belong with me.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“Let’s not do the wedding,” I murmured. “I don’t want them there, pretending to love me.”
Rowan searched my face. “Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“Then let’s elope.”
His lips curled into a soft smile. “Hell yes.”
The courthouse smelled like old paper and fresh ink. No grand ceremony. Just us, standing before a clerk in a sunlit office.
“Do you take this man?” she asked.
I looked at Rowan, my heart bursting.
“With everything I have.”
No forced smiles. No fake congratulations. Just me and the man who had never made me feel like an afterthought.
As we stepped outside, the sun hit my face, warm and golden.
I had made the right choice.
