The first time someone mentioned Amber’s wedding, I laughed it off. “You mean the wedding I’ll be in?” I had assumed I’d be a bridesmaid—Amber and I had been inseparable for years. But the conversation took a turn when my friend Clara gave me a confused look.
“You didn’t get an invite?”
The words sent a chill down my spine. I brushed it off. Maybe Amber was planning a surprise. Maybe she’d tell me in person. But weeks passed, and nothing came. No envelope in the mail, no excited message, no last-minute phone call.
The others kept talking about the wedding—about how beautiful the venue was, how exclusive the guest list had been, how excited Amber was to walk down the aisle. I smiled through it all, pretending I wasn’t dying inside. Something wasn’t right.
So, I crashed it.
Dressed in a simple navy dress, I walked through the open doors of the grand ballroom, blending into the crowd as if I belonged. No one stopped me. No one even questioned it. I weaved through the sea of familiar faces, my heart pounding.
Then, the room fell silent.
I felt it before I saw it—the shift in energy, the weight of eyes turning toward me. The hushed whispers, the stolen glances filled with something between pity and unease.
My stomach twisted.
Amber turned, the smile slipping from her face the moment she saw me. Her skin went pale, her eyes wide with something I couldn’t quite place.
Fear.
And then I saw him.
The groom.
He was standing next to Peter, my ex. Peter, who had shattered me. Peter, who had cheated on me and then tossed me out of our shared apartment like I was garbage. No apology, no remorse. Just a cold, heartless, you need to leave. I had spent a month couch-surfing with friends before I could afford my own place. It had been the lowest point of my life.
And now, here he was, standing beside Amber’s groom as his best man.
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
The reason I hadn’t been invited.
Amber had chosen him. Not me.
The air in the room was suffocating. I clenched my fists, trying to steady the storm raging inside me. When I spoke, my voice was calm—too calm.
“Wow, Amber,” I said, my gaze never leaving hers. “You could have just told me the truth.”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her groom—Josh—shifted uncomfortably, glancing between us.
Peter smirked, a cruel flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. I wanted to slap it off his face.
“Guess she didn’t want to ruin the mood,” he said, voice laced with mockery.
Amber flinched. “It’s not like that—”
I let out a dry laugh. “Oh, really? Then what’s it like? Because from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like you chose him over me. Like you didn’t even have the decency to be honest.”
“Look,” she said, voice tight. “Josh and Peter have been best friends forever. What was I supposed to do? Not invite my own husband’s best man?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do. Or at the very least, you should have told me. Instead, you let me sit around, wondering if I’d done something wrong. You let me believe we were still friends.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I was going to—”
“Don’t,” I interrupted. “Just don’t.”
The weight of betrayal sat heavy on my chest. I had defended Amber countless times, always believing she had my back. But when it had come down to it, she had chosen convenience over loyalty.
I turned to leave, but before I could take a step, Peter chuckled under his breath.
“Always so dramatic,” he muttered.
That was it. That was the last straw.
I spun on my heel, marching straight up to him. “You don’t get to speak,” I hissed. “You don’t get to act like I’m the problem when you’re the one who treated me like trash. You’re a liar and a cheater, and I hope everyone in this room knows exactly who you are.”
The smugness slipped from his face. Good.
I turned back to Amber, my voice softer now, but firm. “I would have done anything for you. I thought we were family. But I guess I was wrong.”
Her eyes shimmered with tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I nodded, but the ache in my chest didn’t ease.
I walked out of the wedding, head held high.
And you know what? I never looked back.
Some friendships aren’t meant to last forever. And sometimes, losing someone isn’t really a loss at all.
What would you have done in my place? Let me know in the comments, and don’t forget to like and share if you’ve ever been betrayed by someone you trusted.
