My sister always came first, but when my parents skipped my wedding for her, my best man made sure their choice was heard loud and clear. I’m Lucas, 26, and this is how I learned to stop begging for love and start living for myself.
Growing up, my sister, Chloe, stole every spotlight. Five years older, she turned every moment into her drama. If I got an A on a project, Chloe would have a breakup that needed Mom and Dad’s full attention. My baseball championship? Chloe sprained her ankle, and they rushed to her. “Lucas, you’re fine,” Mom would say, grabbing her purse. Dad would nod, “You’re tough, kid.” But I felt like I didn’t exist.
When I got engaged to Olivia last spring, I wanted my wedding to be different. I sat my parents down in their living room and said, “My wedding’s in October. Please, no Chloe drama. I need you there.” Mom smiled, “We’ll be there, Lucas!” Dad chuckled, “It’s just a party, right?” I pressed, “I mean it. I need you to show up for me.” They agreed, but Mom was already checking her phone—probably Chloe texting.
As the wedding neared, Chloe started her usual antics. At a family dinner, she complained about the guest attire. “Purple’s so tacky,” she said, rolling her eyes. Olivia said, “It’s our style, Chloe.” Chloe smirked, “I just want to look good in photos.” Mom said, “Chloe’s got a great eye, Lucas.” I felt the old pattern creeping in, but I hoped they’d keep their promise.
October 8 was perfect—bright and warm. I woke up excited to marry Olivia, who always put me first. My best man, Ethan, was keeping the mood light with jokes. Then my phone buzzed with Mom’s voicemail: “Lucas, we can’t make it. Chloe’s parrot is acting weird, and she’s freaking out. We can’t leave her. Take pictures!” My heart shattered. Ethan overheard, his face darkening. “A parrot?” he said, grabbing my phone.
Ethan showed Olivia the voicemail. Her eyes flashed with anger. “Ethan, use it however you want,” she said. I was too hurt to argue. Ethan nodded, a fierce look in his eyes. The wedding was beautiful—Olivia’s parents walked her down the aisle, and her mom said, “You’re our son now.” I cried, feeling truly seen. We danced and celebrated, surrounded by love.
After a peaceful honeymoon in a lakeside cabin—no phones, just us—I returned to a flood of messages. My cousin texted, “Ethan’s video is intense. Your parents messed up.” I opened social media and saw it: a montage of our wedding—us laughing, kissing—with Mom’s voicemail playing over it. Ethan’s caption read: “My best friend’s big day. His parents ditched for his sister’s parrot. Hear their excuse.” Comments poured in: “This is so wrong!” “That sister’s awful!” “How could they?”
Mom called, panicked. “Lucas, take that video down! Chloe’s getting trolled!” I sank onto the couch. “Was it private when you chose Chloe’s parrot over my wedding?” I asked. She went silent. Chloe called, yelling, “You’ve wrecked my life!” I said, “Ethan posted it because he’s done watching you overshadow me.” Dad called, offering a “big party” to make up for it. I laughed, “You think that fixes this?” He had no reply.
The video’s everywhere now. Chloe moved away, and my parents keep begging me to take it down. But I’m done chasing their love. Olivia’s family is my home, and Ethan’s my brother. A stranger wrote, saying the video gave them strength to demand better. Ethan didn’t just expose my parents—he set me free. I spent years feeling unworthy, but I’ve learned that love means choosing yourself. Sometimes, the truth is the only way to break free.
