On the morning of my wedding, my dad texted me, “We won’t be there.” A few hours later, my uncle posted a photo—my entire family smiling on a boat in Santorini. The caption read: Finally free of the drama. I stared at the screen, then slowly typed my reply…

On the morning of my wedding, I woke up before the alarm. The sunlight filtered softly through the hotel curtains, and for a moment, everything felt right. My dress hung by the window, my phone buzzed with congratulatory messages, and my heart raced with nervous excitement. Then my phone vibrated again. A text from my dad.
We won’t be there.

No explanation. No apology. Just five words that felt heavier than my wedding gown.

I stared at the screen, convinced there had to be another message coming. There wasn’t. I called him. Straight to voicemail. I called my mom. No answer. My hands started shaking as reality crept in. My entire family—parents, siblings, aunts, cousins—were supposed to be sitting in the front row in less than four hours.

I tried to rationalize it. Maybe a flight delay. Maybe an emergency. But deep down, I already knew this wasn’t sudden. This was deliberate.

By noon, my maid of honor, Megan, noticed something was wrong. I told her the truth, my voice breaking halfway through. She hugged me tightly and said, “Whatever happens, you’re not alone today.” I wanted to believe her.

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