At my sister’s engagement party, she grabbed the mic, grinning. “Meet my maid of honor—oh wait, no.” She fake-pouted. “Too ugly for the role. Find someone prettier!” The crowd laughed. Our parents clapped. Aunt Carol smirked. I smiled—not wounded, but knowing. “To love,” I toasted, slipping her fiancé a small gift. His smile faltered. The music skipped. Suddenly, no one was laughing anymore.
At my sister’s engagement party, she grabbed the mic with a grin and said, “Meet my maid of honor.” Then[…]
Read more