**Betrayal at the Wedding Table**
Margaret Hartley rapped urgently on the door of her son and daughter-in-law’s flat. Joy bubbled inside her—she couldn’t wait to show off the photos from her youngest daughter’s lavish wedding last weekend. The door swung open, revealing her daughter-in-law, Emily. Her face was drawn, eyes red-rimmed from crying. “Oh, it’s you. Come in,” Emily muttered coldly. Margaret’s stomach twisted. “Emily, what’s wrong?” she asked cautiously, stepping inside. “What’s wrong? Your son and I are getting divorced!” Emily spat, her voice cracking with rage. “Divorced? Why?” Margaret gasped, heart pounding. “You mean you don’t know what he’s done?” Emily sneered. “No! Tell me!” Margaret’s hands trembled as dread coiled around her chest.
Two months earlier, in a quiet town along the River Thames, a bitter argument had erupted between Emily and her husband’s sister, Charlotte. “A wedding’s a once-in-a-lifetime event! Why skimp on it?” Charlotte huffed when she heard Emily and her brother, James, were opting for a small registry office ceremony instead of a grand celebration. “Seems a waste of money,” Emily replied evenly. “We’d rather invest in something meaningful.” “Like what?” Charlotte narrowed her eyes, suspicion lacing her tone. “A holiday, a car, or a deposit on a house,” Emily listed. “So you *have* the money—you just don’t want a proper wedding?” Charlotte scoffed. Emily stayed silent, her expression answer enough.
James and Emily stuck to their plan—no frills, just a quiet dinner with close family. Charlotte and her fiancé reluctantly attended after threatening to boycott. But Charlotte had an ulterior motive—one that would hijack the evening.
After the registry office, the couple and their guests gathered at Emily’s parents’ spacious home on the town’s outskirts. The table groaned under homemade dishes, though only twelve guests sat around it.
Then, during the toasts, Charlotte abruptly stood, glass clutched tight. “To the happy couple!” she announced, voice quivering but loud. “But while we’re here—Oliver and I are getting married too!” The room erupted in gasps and cheers. Emily’s stomach plummeted. As Charlotte basked in congratulations, boasting about her extravagant plans, Emily fought the sting of betrayal. James brushed it off. “Who cares? We’ve got our savings—that’s what matters.” “Then let’s book a holiday,” Emily said abruptly. “Somewhere far from this drama.” James hesitated. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Two weeks later, Charlotte handed them a gilt-edged invitation. Emily tossed it aside. “I’m not going.” James shrugged. “Fine, we won’t.” “Good. Let’s finally book that trip,” she pressed. His face paled. “Actually… I should go. She’s my sister.” Emily recoiled. “Then why pretend you’d skip it?”
Reluctantly, Emily attended Charlotte’s wedding—a spectacle of limousines, champagne fountains, and fireworks. “What a ridiculous waste,” she muttered, eyeing the designer gown. James stayed silent.
The next day, Emily brought up the trip again. “I found flights—let’s go!” James swallowed hard. “We can’t. The money’s gone.” “What?” She laughed in disbelief. “We saved forty thousand!” “I—I lent it to Charlotte for the wedding,” he admitted, avoiding her gaze. “She’ll pay us back.” Emily’s blood ran cold. “You did *what*? Without asking me?” James stammered, “She begged—said she’d repay it in instalments—” “I don’t *want* it later, I want it *now*!” she shouted, vision blurring with fury.
Just then, Margaret knocked, clutching wedding photos proudly. Emily whirled on her. “Did you *know* James paid for Charlotte’s wedding?” “Of course,” Margaret sniffed. “Family helps family.” Emily’s voice shook. “We sacrificed our day to save, and he handed it all to *her*? You’re a traitor, James!” Margaret shoved between them. “Stop this nonsense over money!” “Half that money was *mine*,” Emily seethed. “Return it by Friday, or I’ll sue.” She stormed out, leaving them gaping.
“Ungrateful little madam!” Margaret shouted after her. But Emily meant every word. She filed for divorce—and won, forcing James to repay her share.
With the money, she flew to the Mediterranean. Under the golden sun, she met a man who made her heart feel light again. By the time she returned home, the bitterness had faded, replaced by quiet hope—and the promise of a fresh start.
