Walk Through The Rest Of Life With You

Trying on my wedding dress, my sister Brittney joined us. I stepped out in heavy white tulle. Guy stood before me, letting Brittney adjust his bowtie, a soft smile on his lips. Before I spoke, the stylist bypassed me, beaming at Brittney. Right this way, beautiful bride. They exchanged glances and chuckled. No correction.

Noah, our childhood friend and photographer, brushed past me, camera clicking. Of ninety-nine photos taken that afternoon, every single one featured Brittney and Guy. Not one of me, the actual bride. My feet cemented to the floor. As children, Noah and Brittney always played bride and groom while I tossed petals. Now adults, I had a real fianc, yet there they were, laughing and posing, while I held her purse.

"Adam, hand me that bouquet," Brittney called. I didn't move. Guy approached, gently taking it from my numb fingers. "Spacing out? Go pick invitation designs. I'll join you after," he said, tender and oblivious. Noah peeked from behind his lens. "Adam, step left. You're blocking the light." I swallowed the lump in my throat, backing into the cold wall. Reality washed over me. I was unnecessary here. If this wedding didn't need me, I wouldn't attend.

I quietly picked up my purse from the velvet bench and pushed the glass door open.

The brass bell chimed overhead.

Nobody called my name.

I glanced back one last time. Brittney was twirling in front of the floor to ceiling mirror. Guy stood behind her, carefully adjusting the silk bow at her waist.

Noah crouched low, snapping away. "Yes, perfect. Hold that angle."

The flash went off five or six times in a row.

I turned away and walked out into the street.

The moment I sat behind the steering wheel of my car, my phone screen lit up. It was a text from our wedding planner.

"Hi Adam, the wedding is coming up fast! Have you decided on the invitation suite yet?"

Before I could type a reply, another bubble popped up.

"Or you could have your sister pick them out? She has fantastic taste."

The interior of the car was suffocatingly quiet.

It was so quiet I could hear the rhythm of my own breathing. In and out. Like I was counting.

Counting what?

Counting the number of times I had been forgotten in this relationship? The number of times I had been rendered invisible?

I typed three words and hit send. "Let her decide."

I meant it. It didn't matter what I picked anyway. Guy would always agree with Brittney's choices in the end.

The planner replied instantly. "Great, noted."

I stared at those words. I could practically hear her sigh of relief. Dealing with Brittney was so much easier than waiting for the indecisive bride.

My phone vibrated wildly in my hand. Notifications flooded our group chat. Noah was uploading the photos he just took.

I tapped on the thumbnails. His composition was flawless. The afternoon sunlight hit Guy and Brittney's faces perfectly. They looked like a magazine spread for a luxury bridal brand.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

When I was a little girl playing pretend, I was so incredibly jealous of the one who got to wear the veil. When I met Guy, I thought my time had finally come. I thought I finally got to be the real bride.

I poured my heart and soul into this wedding. I walked on eggshells, obsessing over every detail. It was as if this ceremony was my only proof that I was worthy of being the main character in my own life.

I never expected to be shoved out of the frame entirely.

I brought Brittney today because she was my family. Trying on wedding dresses was supposed to be a sacred, intimate moment. There was only supposed to be one bride and one groom in the mirror. And I was the bride.

I thought nothing could possibly go wrong today.

But the result was exactly the same as always.

My phone screen faded to black, then lit up again. Message after message rolled into the group chat.

I didn't reply to a single one.

And nobody noticed.

I drove back to my apartment. Stuck to the fridge was a bright yellow sticky note I had written myself.

"7 Days Until the Wedding."

I peeled the paper off the metal, crumpled it into a tight ball, and tossed it into the trash.

I didn't get out of bed until noon the next day.

When I finally checked my phone, there were over a hundred messages in the wedding group chat.

I stared at the single voice memo Brittney had tagged me in. I hesitated, then tapped play.

"Adam, I went ahead and changed the background music for the reception. The song you picked was way too depressing. It is a wedding, it is supposed to be lively!"

Right below it was a text from Guy. "Yeah, the original track didn't fit the vibe."

The original track.

I spent an entire month hunting down that specific vinyl. It was the song my parents danced to at their own wedding.

They passed away when I was young. I just wanted them to be present on my big day in some small way. Whenever I heard those opening chords, my eyes would well up with tears.

Guy knew this. Brittney knew this.

But they still decided it was too depressing.

Brittney sent another message to the group. "My sister doesn't really have an eye for this stuff anyway. We will just handle the final details for her."

Guy replied with a single word. "Okay."

I stared at that word until my vision blurred.

The messages kept scrolling past like a rushing river. Nobody seemed to realize that I was in the chat. Nobody realized I hadn't spoken a word.

My participation in my own wedding had officially reached zero.

I opened my private messages with Guy. Our last conversation was from yesterday morning, right before the dress fitting.

I told him I was feeling a little nervous. He replied with an emoji of a bear patting another bear on the head.

Nothing else.

He didn't even send a private text to ask why I left the boutique early. He just tagged me in the group chat last night. "What happened? Got stage fright and ran off?"

Nobody answered him, and he didn't press the issue.

Brittney sent a picture of the dress soon after, captioning it, "Dress fitting was a success. We secured the gown!" And just like that, my absence was brushed over.

Then they moved right along to discussing floral arrangements, invitations, and the photobooth backdrop.

I suddenly realized my role wasn't just unnecessary.

Being unnecessary meant I actually had a place to begin with. The truth was, I was never even in the picture.

I was pulling my suitcase out of the closet when Brittney FaceTimed me.

I answered. The screen showed a makeup artist blending foundation onto her cheek.

"Adam, you move way too slow. You still hadn't booked a makeup artist, so I just hired a premium team for you. I'm having them do a trial run on me first."

I watched her check her reflection in the camera. I opened my mouth, but the words died on my tongue.

Should I tell her I booked my best friend to do my makeup two weeks ago?

Should I ask her why they kept making decisions without asking me if I was okay with them?

It felt pointless.

Had I never asked before? Had I never shown my anger? Had I never tried to stand my ground?

I had.

And their response was always the same. "You are the older sister. Be the bigger person. Let her have this."

Noah grew up with me. We were childhood best friends. Yet he always took her side.

When Guy first pursued me, he said he loved how quiet and steady I was. He called it endearing. I thought he truly loved my calm nature.

But after he met Brittney, his preferences mysteriously shifted. He started dropping comments about how girls should be vibrant, bubbly, and full of opinions.

One day, I couldn't take it anymore. I asked him directly. "Can you please stop being so physically affectionate with Brittney?"

I loved my sister. I raised her. Guy should have known how much it cost me to ask that question.

He didn't take it seriously. He just laughed and ruffled my hair. "She is your little sister, Adam. Do you want me to be enemies with my future sister in law?"

I fell silent. Of course I didn't want them to be enemies.

But the crushing weight of being the mature older sister had been breaking my back for years. For the first time in my life, I couldn't breathe.

They always seemed to forget that I was only two years older than her.

I wanted to be spoiled too. I wanted someone to ask me if I liked something before forcing it on me.

A sliver of afternoon sunlight crept through the blinds and pooled on the hardwood floor.

I remembered the aftermath of our childhood games. When the pretend wedding was over, Noah and Brittney would run off laughing. I was always the one left behind, picking up the scattered flower petals one by one, putting them back into the basket.

Nobody ever stayed to help me.

Nobody ever asked if I was tired.

I called my landlord and told him I was moving out today.

"Are you sure?" he asked, surprised. "You have been here for over four years."

Four years.

When Guy and I first started dating seriously, he wanted me to move into his place. Brittney told me it was bad luck to live together before marriage. I agreed that maintaining some personal space was healthy.

So I rented this apartment just a few blocks from his corporate office, hoping it would make it easier to see him. He loved the idea. Sometimes he would crash here after a late night at work.

This apartment held the evidence of our love. Our fights. Our comfortable silences. And countless memories of his back as he rushed out the door to work.

"Yes. Moving out today," I said firmly.

He sighed and told me to leave the keys in the mailbox.

Not long after I hung up, the lock clicked. The front door swung open.

Guy walked in, with Brittney trailing right behind him.

Brittney turned to him with a bright smile. "We agreed on this, right? I get the spare bedroom with the bay window in your new house. But I am changing the curtains to blush pink."

I stood frozen in the middle of the living room. I thought my ears were playing tricks on me.

She said it so naturally. As if moving into our marital home and claiming a room for herself was a universal given.

Guy didn't object. He looked at her with pure indulgence. "As long as Adam is fine with it."

"My sister loves me. Why would she care?"

I stared at them. Something tight in my chest suddenly snapped.

"What if I say I do care?"

The room went dead silent for two full seconds.

Brittney froze. It was probably the first time she had ever heard me say the word no. Before she even opened her mouth, her eyes filled with glossy tears.

Guy's expression darkened instantly. "Adam, what is wrong with you? You usually give her anything she wants. Now you are going to pick a fight over a spare bedroom?"

"I am not picking a fight," I said evenly.

"Then what the hell is this?" He frowned, stepping forward. "What is the big deal if Brittney moves in? She is your sister, not a stranger. The house is massive. The room is just going to sit empty anyway."

"It is our marital home. Is she marrying you?" I asked.

The question caught him off guard. He choked on his words.

Brittney sniffled, her voice dropping to a pathetic whisper. "Adam... I just wanted to be close to you. If you hate the idea that much, fine. I won't move in."

Guy shot her a sympathetic look before turning his glare on me. "Look what you did. You broke her heart over nothing. She is a young woman navigating the city alone, and she is your blood. Can you stop being so selfish for one second?"

"Who is looking out for me?" I raised my chin, meeting his angry stare. "You got her a high paying job at your firm. She has zero worries. What do I have? I only have"

"Enough." Guy's tone turned ice cold.

He took another step toward me, towering over my space. "Be reasonable. I only went out of my way to take care of her because of you. Do you really need to be this petty?"

Petty.

A hollow laugh escaped my throat. I pressed my lips together and stopped talking.

Brittney gently tugged at his sleeve. "Guy, stop. She is probably just stressed about the wedding."

He patted her hand, his voice instantly softening. "Adam, I have already made the call. Brittney moving in is a good thing. You two won't have to be separated."

I nodded slowly.

Whatever.

It was their house anyway. I wasn't going to live in it.

Guy exhaled, looking relieved. Brittney wiped a stray tear and offered him a fragile smile.

I turned my back to them and walked into my bedroom to pack.

From the living room, I heard Brittney's voice chime again. "Can I really get the pink curtains?"

Guy chuckled softly. "Whatever you want."

That afternoon, I drove to Guy's corporate headquarters.

Inside my leather tote bag was his security badge, his office keys, and a stack of client portfolios he had asked me to organize for him.

The receptionist at the front desk beamed when she saw me. "Hi Adam! Let me buzz Mr. Vance and let him know you are here."

"No need," I said, placing the heavy stack of items on the marble counter. "Just make sure he gets these."

I turned on my heel and walked toward the exit.

As I passed the glass doors of the stairwell, I heard Guy's voice echoing from the landing below. I slowed my pace.

"Saturday? To go get your nails done?"

My fingers went numb.

A second later, his voice drifted up, laced with easy amusement.

"I know, I know. You want to look perfect for the wedding. I will go with you. I will smooth things over with your sister."

I let out a bitter breath.

I had already decided to walk away. Why was I still expecting him to do the right thing?

We had a promise. Before we got married, we were going to drive up to the mountains and watch the sunrise together. It was a date we planned years ago but never managed to pull off.

He promised me last winter. Then he delayed it to spring. Then he pushed it to the week before the wedding.

We finally locked in this Saturday.

And now, he was canceling on me again. To watch Brittney get a manicure.

I didn't stay to hear the rest. I pushed through the revolving doors, got into my car, and drove straight out of the city, heading back to my rural hometown.

The next morning, I was sweeping the front porch when Aunt Sarah walked up the driveway.

"Adam, honey, put the broom down and rest."

I shook my head and told her I was almost done.

Aunt Sarah grabbed my hands and squeezed them tight.

"You have suffered so much playing the responsible older sister," she sighed, her eyes filled with years of unspoken pity. "Brittney was adopted, yes, but you treated her like your own flesh and blood. You gave up everything for her, and that girl just took and took without an ounce of gratitude."

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"The whole family sees it. We just didn't want to stir the pot and make things harder for you. But it's over now. You are finally getting married. You are getting your own life."

I offered a polite smile and changed the subject.

A little while later, I looked at her. "Aunt Sarah, you and Uncle Thomas should move into this house. It will fall apart if it sits empty."

She blinked in confusion. "Empty? You are getting married, but you will still come back to visit."

She chuckled. "I know you and Guy have that massive house in the city, but you still need a place to sleep when you come home for the holidays."

I just nodded, but I firmly pressed the spare keys into her palm.

She thought I was just being generous. She tried to refuse, but I didn't explain.

I just knew that once I left this time, it would be years before I ever came back.

As evening approached, Guy arrived to fulfill the traditional pre-wedding visit to the bride's family. Brittney was practically skipping behind him.

When they saw me sitting on the porch, they both froze.

"Adam, what are you doing here?"

His tone made it sound like I was trespassing.

But I was the bride. I was at my uncle's house. Where else was I supposed to be?

Oh, right. He was used to it.

It didn't matter if I was there. As long as Brittney was with him, everything was fine.

Brittney recovered quickly and looped her arm through mine. "Adam, perfect timing! Guy said he needed to visit Uncle Thomas, and I had nothing better to do, so I tagged along."

I didn't respond.

Brittney hated this small town. She avoided coming back at all costs. Yet here she was, days before the wedding. I didn't know if she was here to support me, or for another reason entirely.

It didn't matter anymore.

Inside the house, Uncle Thomas poured tea and chatted with Guy.

Brittney sat right next to Guy. She poured his refills, laughed at his jokes, and chimed into the conversation effortlessly.

I sat in the corner like an old piece of furniture. Nobody looked at me.

I glanced down at my phone.

Guy had sent me a text.

"I have been swamped with wedding prep these last two days, sorry if I neglected you. But why did you run off to your hometown without telling me?"

Neglected me?

His tone sounded more like a scolding. Like I was being immature for disappearing.

He was constantly active in the group chat, but he rarely texted me directly. He rarely asked if I had eaten, what I was doing, or if I was happy.

That was why he didn't know I went to his office. He didn't know I left the city.

He didn't know, because he never bothered to ask.

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. I typed two words. "Stay busy."

Whatever he was busy with had nothing to do with me anyway.

The visit wrapped up. Uncle Thomas stood up to walk them to the door.

He clapped Guy on the shoulder. "According to our town's tradition, it is bad luck to see the bride three days before the wedding. Don't come looking for Adam until the ceremony. We want a blessed marriage."

Guy nodded respectfully.

Uncle Thomas turned to me. "Adam, pack your bags and ride back to the city with them. You should prep at your apartment so there is no rushing on the big day. We will see you at the post wedding brunch."

I wanted to say no, but the earnest look in his eyes stopped me. I swallowed my refusal.

I walked back into my bedroom to grab my suitcase and double check the drawers.

When I finally rolled my luggage out to the front yard, Guy's car was already gone.

I stood in the empty driveway for a few seconds.

My phone buzzed. A text from Guy.

"Brittney was anxious to go check out the floral arrangements at the venue, so I took her. I honestly forgot you were there. Just drive your own car back."

Forgot.

Guy, how could you forget me again?

I dragged my suitcase down the dirt road to the highway and ordered an Uber.

The wedding was scheduled for Monday.

Guy glanced at the GPS on his dashboard and turned to Brittney. "Are you sure this is the right hotel to pick up the bride?"

"Positive. I sent the address to my sister days ago."

"This place is high end, and it is closer to the venue. Picking her up here makes way more sense than navigating the traffic to her tiny apartment," Guy reasoned.

"You always handle things perfectly," he added.

"Unlike your sister. She is like a brick wall. Uncle Thomas mentioned the superstition about not seeing each other, and she actually took it seriously. She hasn't replied to a single text for three days."

Guy pulled up to the grand entrance.

Brittney hopped out of the passenger seat effortlessly. "Let's go. She is probably pacing the floor waiting for us."

Noah jogged up behind them, his heavy camera bouncing against his chest. "Brittney, you are supposed to ride with me today. The passenger seat is for the bride."

"No way," Brittney teased, sticking her tongue out at him. "Guy drives smoother. I get carsick in your jeep."

Guy shook his head with an affectionate smile. "You are impossible."

They walked into the luxurious hotel lobby. Guy led the charge to the front desk, Brittney right beside him. Noah automatically lifted his camera, snapping candid shots of them walking together.

The receptionist offered a polished smile. "Good morning. How can I help you?"

"We are here for the bride," Guy said smoothly. "Room 302. Under the name Adam."

The receptionist typed quietly on her keyboard. She frowned and checked the screen again. She looked up.

"I apologize, sir. We do not have anyone checked in under that name."