I Was the Only One Who Didn’t Get an Invite to My Close Friend’s Wedding — When I Crashed It, I Was Shocked to Find Out Why

Ivy never expects to be left out of her best friend’s wedding until she crashes it and learns the shocking truth. The groom? Someone she’s known all her life. The betrayal? Unforgivable. As her past collides with her present, Ivy must decide: walk away for good or confront the groom.

The first time someone mentioned Amber’s wedding, I laughed.

“Wait, Amber who?” I asked, sipping my coffee and being completely distracted by the huge slice of cheesecake in front of me.

The table went silent. Four pairs of eyes blinked at me like I’d just confessed to murder.

“Are you serious, Ivy?” Lauren finally asked. “Amber Amber. Our Amber.”

My stomach dipped.

“No, she would have told me. Surely! You guys are just making fun of me!”

Jack shifted uncomfortably, almost knocking his coffee over.

“Ivy, she… she sent the invitations weeks ago. Like almost a month,” he said.

I nearly dropped my coffee.

My invitation never came.

At first, I told myself it was a mistake. Maybe it got lost in the mail? Or maybe she was waiting to tell me in person?

But it didn’t make sense! When we were growing up, we always spoke about being each other’s bridesmaids… so what was this?

The weeks passed. More invitations were sent. I saw some of my other friends posting on socials and tagging her, all excited that they were going to share Amber’s big day with her.

We can’t wait to celebrate you!

You’re going to be the most beautiful bride, Amber!

Bachelorette party!!

Dresses were bought.

“I got this beautiful midnight blue dress, Ives,” Lauren told me over the phone. “And my grandmother’s earrings will finish the look perfectly. Have you decided what you’re going to wear?”

“Lauren, she still hasn’t invited me,” I said. “So…”

I didn’t ask Amber why. I waited. And I gave her every opportunity to tell me. But she never did. Not even when we went to get our nails done.

I wasn’t sure that I wanted to spend time with her, but I wanted to see if she would tell me the truth. Or anything about her wedding, for that matter. And if I’m being honest, I was so surprised that she had agreed to come with me.

“I’m going with a neutral nail,” Amber said, beaming at me.

When I glanced down at her hand, she wasn’t even wearing her engagement ring.

“Beautiful,” I said. “I’m going with a fiery red.”

What had I done to her that she was willing to keep this big secret from me? Had I hurt her in any way?

Did she think that I was going to stop her wedding and run off with her groom?

What the hell?

But something wasn’t right, and I knew it deep down in my bones. Amber was avoiding me, and I needed to know why.

So, on the day of the wedding, I crashed it.

I hadn’t spoken to Amber since that nail appointment, and not since the wedding talk was getting out of hand. She had even blocked me on socials, with Lauren sharing screenshots of her posts with me.

“Sorry, Ives,” she said one afternoon when we were sitting in the park and eating ice cream. “I don’t know what’s gotten into this girl. Have you tried talking to her?”

“We got our nails done a few weeks ago,” I confessed. “But I didn’t straight-out ask her. She wasn’t wearing a ring or anything. I guess she really just doesn’t want me there.”

But now, I was standing in front of the venue, watching guests file inside, laughter bubbling on their lips and happy chatter filling the air. I felt so out of place. I knew most of the people there. Amber and I had been friends for so long that her family was also close to me.

She would have told me. She should have told me.

But why didn’t she?

I thought back to the last time we had spoken before there was any mention of a wedding, whether from our friends or Amber’s social media.

We had been at her apartment, sitting on the floor, splitting a bottle of wine between us. Wedding magazines were spread out between us, and I had circled a dress that I knew she would love.

She had been quiet that night. Tense. I had brushed it off, assuming she was stressed with work.

“Why do you have so many wedding magazines, anyway?” I had asked.

“Because it’s the next project I’m working on,” she said carefully. “Designing a wedding dress, and making it too. If I get this right, Ivy, I’ll get more clients. I know it.”

Had she been lying? Had she been planning her wedding then too?

Now, I replayed her expression, her hands gripping her wine glass a little too tight when I asked her questions about her own dream wedding dress. It got even worse when I asked her about her dream groom.

“We’ve grown up from wanting movie stars as our grooms,” I laughed. “So, do you have a visual when you think about it?”

“You live in your head too much, Ivy,” she said, brushing me off.

I should have known then that something was wrong.

I didn’t sneak in like some dramatic movie scene. I just walked through the doors with an air of confidence, trying to make it seem like I was supposed to be there.

Even when I was deciding what to wear, I didn’t want to stand out. I wanted to blend in, to just look beautiful enough for the occasion, but not to draw any attention.

The venue was stunning, all soft golden lights and elegant décor. It was perfect. It had Amber’s stamp all over it. She had poured herself into her wedding.

Guests milled around, listening to the soft and romantic music, champagne in hand as they made their way to their seats.

And for a moment, I convinced myself that this was all some horrible misunderstanding.

Until I stepped into the main hall where guests were already taking their seats.

And guess what? The entire room went silent.

People stared, some whispering, others giving me sympathetic looks. Like they’d just witnessed something tragic.

Keep breathing, Ivy, I thought to myself.

But honestly, what the hell was going on?

Then, I saw her.

Amber stood at the front of the room, in a gorgeous white dress, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

And then I saw him.

Standing at the altar, in a sleek black tuxedo, his arm around Amber, was my father.

The same father who abandoned me when I was ten years old. The same father I hadn’t seen since.

Suddenly, the world blurred. And I felt like the floor had completely disappeared beneath me. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Amber knew.

She had known this whole time. That’s why I wasn’t invited.

She had been hiding this from me.

I wished I could sink into the ground and disappear.

Then, my father spoke.

His voice was deeper than I remembered, but the moment he said my name, I was ten years old again, standing at 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, my heels echoing against the polished floor.

The guests were still frozen, their eyes darting between me, Amber, and my father.

Amber.

The girl who had been my best friend, my confidante, my sister in everything but blood, had been hiding this from me.

I turned to my father. His face was unreadable.

I searched for something, remorse, shame, anything, but all I saw was hesitation.

Like he wasn’t sure whether to acknowledge me at all.

I didn’t give him a choice.

“You.” My voice was steady, but inside, my heart was a raging storm.

“You’re going to stand there like nothing happened?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“I… Ivy…”

Then, Amber rushed forward, stepping between us, her eyes pleading.

“Listen, I was going to tell you…”

“When, Amber?” I snapped. “Before or after the honeymoon? Or maybe when you were pregnant with my half-sibling?”

She winced.

“I didn’t know how to…”

“How to what?” My voice cracked. “Tell me that you were marrying my father? The man who left me when I was ten?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd, but I barely heard them.

“Why now? After all these years, why Amber? Why her?”

My father let out a slow breath, rubbing his temples like this was just some inconvenient confrontation rather than the reckoning he deserved.

“I know I owe you an explanation.”

I scoffed.

“You owe me more than that.”

He exhaled, finally looking me in the eyes.

“I left because I had to, Ivy, not because I wanted to.”

I laughed loudly. It came out hollow and bitter.

“You let me think that you were dead or something. You let me believe that I wasn’t worth a goodbye.”

I turned to her, my voice sharp.

“And you? When exactly did you think it was a good idea to marry my missing father?”

She looked away, guilt shadowing her face.

“Well, congratulations, I guess,” I said. “You’re officially family now. I hope it was worth it.”

I turned on my heel, heading straight for the exit.

“Ivy, please. I don’t want to lose you again, darling.”

I stopped, but I didn’t turn around. My voice was cold and distant when I spoke.

“Please, Philip,” I said. “You lost me years ago. You just never cared enough to look.”

And with that, I walked out of my best friend’s wedding. My father’s wedding.

And finally, I walked out of both of their lives.

That night, I sat in my car, parked outside my house.

My head was still spinning, and I couldn’t get the image of Amber and my father out of my mind. There was a part of me that wanted to know more… Like how they had met and gotten together. But I also didn’t care enough. I was too hurt.

Amber had texted me.

Ivy, I’m so sorry. Please talk to me.

I stared at the message, my hands shaking.

Then, slowly, I deleted it.

Outside, the streetlight flickered.

For the first time in years, I felt like I had finally stopped waiting by the window.

What was the point in waiting for this man? And waiting for Amber to realize how wrong she had been?

No, thank you. I was done.

What would you have done?

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When Davina promised her sister Clara $10,000 for her wedding, she never expected betrayal to cancel the big day. But when Clara demands the money anyway, despite her role in the wedding debacle, it’s time for Davina to set her straight. A lesson in loyalty, consequences, and unexpected twists you don’t see coming…

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.