Wedding Inferno: It's Time for Remorse

Three days before I was supposed to be discharged, I handled my own release from the hospital. When I stepped outside, no one was there to pick me up.

Everyone was busy at the wedding venue, rehearsing for the big day.

Brenda sent one photo after another of the sweet, happy moments, as if to make sure I didn't miss anything. With each one I saw, the pain in my heart dulled, slowly fading into numbness.

I took a cab home to start packing for my trip abroad. When I entered the password I hadn't changed in years, it said "Incorrect Password".

The password had originally been Ronald's birthday and mine. When Mom and Dad set it, they said it would make sure they'd never forget our birthdays. But over the years, even with that password, they forgot mine countless times. And now, they had changed it without telling me.

I tried again and again before finally giving up and calling Mom. She rejected the call twice before finally picking up.

It was loud on the other end, like they were eating. I heard Ronald teasing Alan about his eyes being practically glued to Brenda.

Mom's voice came through the line. "Don't you know we're eating? Can't whatever it is wait a minute?"

As I paid attention, I noticed more than impatience in her voice. There was a hint of guilt, probably because of Alan.

However, I kept that thought to myself and simply said, "The house password's been changed. I can't get in."

Mom paused, clearly caught off guard. "You're back from the hospital?"

After realizing she had asked a stupid question, she fell silent. Still, she didn't give me the password. "Go and stay at the Southville house for now."

Her refusal to answer immediately raised a red flag. "Did you touch my room?" I asked cautiously.

In a flash, Mom snapped, "What are you thinking? That little room of yours is empty. What could possibly be worth touching in that little room of yours? Enough! We still have to eat!"

The call ended. I stood at the front door for a long time, staring at the lock.

After entering Ronald's and Brenda's birthdays, the door finally opened. I couldn't tell what I was feeling.

Sad? Not quite.

Angry? Not really.

Mostly, it was the cold recognition that this was how things had always been.

As I stepped into the house I had lived in for over 20 years, I realized how much had changed.

The last time I got married, my parents and Ronald had been too lazy to bother with decorations. This time, the house was decked out in festive decorations; even the bathroom had crimson wedding ribbons. The family photo on the TV cabinet had been replaced with a four-person portrait I had never seen.

My chest tightened as I walked straight to my little corner room. When I opened the door, my bed was gone. The desk and cabinets were gone. The room was filled with all sorts of wedding supplies. No wonder Mom refused to give me the password.

There was nothing left of me in this house. And strangely, I found myself laughing. My cheeks tingled, and when the wind hit, I realized they were wet. I had been crying.

As if fate were against me, I ran into all five of them coming back from dinner. Mom, Dad, and Ronald were at the back, while Alan and Brenda strode in front, holding hands like a normal couple. When they saw me, they awkwardly let go.

"Anna, it's not what you think," Brenda said, feigning innocence, though her eyes betrayed how proud she was.

Alan stayed close to her, shielding her as though I might snap. "Anna, what Brenda said is true. We were just following the photographer's suggestion to spend some time together."

I looked at the man I had loved for seven years and let out a bitter laugh. "It's okay. I understand."

Mom, Dad, and Ronald rushed forward, scolding me all at once. "Anna, can't you behave? Look at yourself! If it weren't for you, Brenda would never be with Alan—"

"I know!" I interrupted firmly. "I know it's for my own good, and I'm grateful. Mom, wasn't I supposed to stay at the Southville house? My cab is nearly here."