The Wedding Where I Was The Witness, Not The Bride Chapter 01

The Wedding Where I Was The Witness, Not The Bride Chapter 01

After a fire, my sister Wren’s mind had stayed stuck at seven years old.

The whole family had to play along with her make-believe games. Mom was the gentle queen, my brother Marcus the handsome knight. And I had to be strapped into a thirty-pound weight belt and play the wicked cripple.

Then I met Grayson. He gently unbuckled the weight belt from my legs, his voice soft with concern: “Clementine, from now on, I’ll only be good to you.”

But when I brought him home, Wren insisted he play the neighboring prince coming to marry her. I told him to just bear with it. He took the prop sword with barely concealed impatience and went through the motions with her, over and over.

Before the wedding, I thought I’d finally be free of this family. But Wren clung to my gown, refusing to let go, still crying to play princess.

Dad handed me a fake nose. “You’ve been playing the witch for years—what’s one more day?”

Mom handed me the weight belt. “With so many guests tomorrow, do you want to set your sister off?” Marcus pulled Wren close and gave me a cold look. “There’s only room for one princess in this family—Wren. Just deal with it.”

I looked at Grayson, helpless. He slipped the witch costume over my head himself, his voice casual: “Clementine, just hold on a little longer. Otherwise Wren will be heartbroken.”

Looking into his affectionate eyes in that moment, what remained of my heart turned to ash.

I turned to Wren and slipped off my engagement ring. “How could a princess be without a diamond ring? Here—you can have this too.”

***

Dad’s face stiffened. He spoke impatiently: “What are you doing now?”

Mom sighed. “You’re a grown-up, and still not as sensible as our Wren.”

Grayson gently ruffled Wren’s hair. “Wren, be a good girl. Can you give me the ring?”

She shook her head hard.

He smiled, indulgent. He picked up the plastic ring we’d used for our make-believe games and slipped it onto my finger. “Clementine, just wear this for now. It’s only a ceremony anyway—you’ll always be my only bride.”

Just then, a staff member brought over the menu they’d selected. Wren couldn’t handle spicy food—I couldn’t live without it. Every dish the family had chosen was mild and bland.

Marcus said flatly, “You won’t die if you skip the spice. Wren’s happiness is what matters.”

I said, “This is my wedding.”

Mom held me back. “Be reasonable. Don’t make a scene.”

The emcee looked at me awkwardly. “So… which young lady will be walking down the aisle?”

Wren looked at Grayson with pleading eyes. He let go of my hand at once. “Be a good girl. Wren just wants to try it out.”

So I sat in the audience, holding that ridiculous witch costume in my arms. Watching Wren in the wedding dress I’d spent half a year custom-ordering. Holding the white iris bouquet I’d chosen myself. Leaning happily against Grayson’s arm.

Mom recorded the whole thing, crying, and posted it on social media: “My daughter’s all grown up—I’m so proud.”

Dad took Wren’s hand and pressed it firmly into Grayson’s palm. “Grayson Ward, I’m entrusting her to you.”

When the ceremony ended, Wren kissed him excitedly on the cheek.

Everyone froze. The staff exchanged knowing looks at me. Grayson didn’t move—just helplessly pinched her cheek. “Little princess, was that really necessary? Your sister’s going to be mad.”

The whole family turned to look at me.

I smiled—a razor-thin smile. “It’s fine. I wish them well. Grayson likes fools anyway—nothing to do with me.”

Wren’s tears fell instantly. Dad stepped in front of her, furious. “How dare you talk about your sister like that! Your grandmother spoiled you rotten. You’d say anything, no matter how vile.”

Mom rubbed Wren’s back, soothing her. Then Wren hurled the bouquet at me—hard. My vision went red, the pain so sharp I could barely stand.

She buried herself in Grayson’s arms, sobbing. “Grayson can only marry me.”

Everyone rushed to comfort her. He took a step toward me—but Wren grabbed his sleeve. The man who’d once promised he’d never let me be wronged—stopped, turned back, and coaxed her gently: “Wren, don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

In that moment, the last warmth in my chest turned to ice.