My Groom Lost Me on Our Wedding Day

As my parents lifted their teacups during the wedding tea ceremony, both cups exploded without warning.

Red wine, whipped cream, and chili water burst into their faces, drenching them from head to toe.

My mother's brand-new silk dress was soaked in an instant, thick cream clinging to her hair. My father instinctively reached out to shield her, but his foot landed on a shard of broken porcelain. He lost his balance and crashed heavily onto the floor.

Laughter rang through the banquet hall.

Derrick's secretary, Mariz Newman, laughed so hard she had to clutch her stomach.

"Wow! They look just like two clumsy water buffaloes!"

She grinned without the slightest hint of guilt. "I added a little surprise to your wedding. I didn't expect those trick cups to be so sensitive."

My entire body trembled with anger. Yet she only fanned the flames.

"Come on, Donna, don't get mad. The internet says brides should stay calm on their wedding day. If you keep a peaceful heart, your marriage will go smoothly!"

Before I could say a word, Derrick grabbed my wrist and held me back.

His brows knitted together as he lowered his voice. "Mariz was only trying to liven up the atmosphere. Can't you see everyone is laughing? Don't be so petty and ungrateful."

My mother quietly wiped the cream from her face. Her eyes were already red, but she still forced herself to smile at me.

"Donna... we're fine. This is your wedding day. Don't argue because of us."

At that moment, I looked at my parents-covered in wine and cream, humiliated in front of everyone-yet they were still trying their best to protect Derrick's dignity.

For the first time, this wedding felt utterly disgusting.

My parents couldn't bear to let me be embarrassed. But Derrick could.

If that's the case... Then this wedding is off!

My father braced himself against the floor, trying to stand. Blood seeped from his palm, leaving a crimson smear across the red carpet.

Mariz immediately frowned. "Uncle, please don't get blood on the carpet."

The moment my mother heard that, she hurriedly crouched down and frantically wiped at the stain with her sleeve.

"I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry. We didn't mean to."

Standing over them, Mariz sighed as if she were the reasonable one. "I warned everyone beforehand that the cups had a mechanism inside. Maybe Uncle and Auntie were just too nervous to hear me."

The whispers around us instantly shifted. "So she did warn them."

"They must be country bumpkins. Probably their first time attending a fancy wedding."

"No wonder they couldn't react in time."

My fingers shook with rage.

"Mariz, you-"

Before I could finish, Derrick stepped in front of her. "Mariz already apologized. Besides, your parents said they're fine."

He frowned at me, keeping his voice low enough that only I could hear. "There are so many guests here today. Do you really have to make such a scene that everyone ends up embarrassed?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

My father's hand was still bleeding. My mother was shivering from the cold in her soaked clothes. Yet the only person he was worried about... was Mariz.

Afraid I would lose control, my father gently tugged on my sleeve. "Donna... let it go."

"Your mother and I will clean ourselves up. You should go back and finish the ceremony."

Mariz immediately chimed in. "The lounge is full of Derrick's relatives right now. Why don't Uncle and Auntie use the storage room in the back instead?There's a mop and some cleaning rags in there."

"Oh, and please hurry. The whipped cream is dripping onto the floor, and it's really hard to clean."

My mother's face turned pale for a brief second before she lowered her head. "I'm sorry. We'll clean it up right away."

She was the one who had been humiliated. Yet she apologized as though she were the one at fault.

Bent over, she kept saying "sorry" as she walked away.

I followed my parents toward the back. The storage room was cramped and dim.

As my mother stepped inside, the hem of her dress caught on a rusty metal shelf, tearing a long slit through the fabric.

She quickly covered it with her hand. "It's alright. The lights in the banquet hall are dim. No one will notice."

Then she opened her handbag. Inside lay a brand-new shawl, folded with meticulous care.

"I was saving this... I wanted to put it on before walking onto the stage."

"I was afraid I'd look too shabby and embarrass you." My mother sighed.

One corner of her shawl had been soaked in red wine. Even so, she carefully dabbed at the stain with a tissue.

When she realized it wouldn't come clean, she quietly folded the stained corner inward, hiding it from view.

My father reached into his jacket and pulled out a red envelope.

The wine had soaked through it, leaving it wrinkled and limp. He spent a long moment gently smoothing it with his fingers before speaking in a quiet voice.

"This is the gift your mother and I prepared for your tea ceremony."

"We wanted to present it properly to our son-in-law."

"But... it ended up like this."

He forced an embarrassed smile.

"Sweetheart... I hope you won't mind."

My tears hit the floor before I even realized I was crying.

They had spent months preparing for this wedding.

They worried they wouldn't be dressed well enough.

They worried they might overlook some wedding etiquette.

Most of all, they worried I'd lose face in front of the Larson family.

And what had Derrick given them in return?

Wine and whipped cream splattered all over them. The laughter of an entire banquet hall. And a cramped storage room filled with cleaning supplies!

Just then, my phone buzzed and a message from Derrick popped up.

[Come out once you've cleaned up. Mariz was only joking with your parents. Don't overreact. It's just a small misunderstanding.]

I stared at those words, then, unexpectedly, I laughed.

So this was something that could simply be brushed aside.

To him, my parents' humiliation, the blood dripping from my father's hand, my mother's ruined dress... They were all just small matters that could be forgotten with a few casual words.

I wiped away my tears and helped my parents sit down.

"Dad. Mom. Wait here for me."

Then I turned and walked out of the storage room.

At the end of the hallway, the wedding planner was anxiously waiting.

"Ms. Donna, are we still following the schedule?"

I looked toward the dazzling lights spilling from the banquet hall.

At the end of the red carpet, Derrick was gently comforting Mariz, speaking to her in a soft voice.

I looked away as I answered, "Yes. We'll continue."

The planner visibly relaxed.

Then I calmly added, "But we're changing the program. We're skipping the tea ceremony."

"The next item... will be the cancellation of the engagement."

When I returned to the storage room, my father was sitting beside a stack of cardboard boxes. The cut on his knee was still bleeding.

The moment he saw me, he immediately tried to stand.

"Donna... are they rushing us outside? Your mother and I will be ready in a minute."

I gently pressed him back down. "Don't move."

My mother looked up at me. Her eyes were swollen and red, yet she still managed a smile. "Don't worry. This dress can still be worn after I clean it."

She glanced at the wine stain spreading across the hem before hurriedly hiding the damaged side behind her back.

"When I go onstage later, I'll stand farther away. Don't worry. The cameras won't catch it."

My throat tightened. Even now... All they could think about was how not to embarrass me.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the doorway.

Derrick stood outside the storage room, frowning at the mess inside. "You're still not done? The auspicious hour is almost here."

"If Uncle and Auntie aren't in any condition... then maybe they shouldn't go onstage."

He paused, sounding as though he were making a reasonable suggestion. "And... Auntie doesn't look very presentable for the cameras."

The smile on my mother's face froze. For a split second, she instinctively looked down at her torn and stained dress.

It was as if she had only just realized how miserable she looked.

My father hurried to agree. "Y-Yes, that's fine. We don't have to go onstage. As long as your wedding goes smoothly."

I looked at Derrick. The man standing before me suddenly felt like a complete stranger.

Once, he had promised that after we got married, he would honor my parents as if they were his own.

But now, after they had been humiliated and injured, the only thing he cared about was whether they would look good on camera.

A moment later, Mariz arrived as well.

Mariz walked in carrying a neatly folded set of clothes. Her eyes were still red, as though she had been crying.

"Auntie, I found you something clean to change into. Why don't you put this on first?" Her voice was gentle, almost thoughtful.

But the moment the outfit was unfolded, the color drained from my mother's face.

It was a plain black skirt suit from the hotel's spare uniform supply.

The fabric was stiff and worn, the skirt still creased from being folded away. Pinned to the chest was an employee name tag that hadn't even been removed.

As if she hadn't noticed, Mariz smiled softly. "Just make do with it for now, Auntie. Besides, everyone will be taking pictures of the bride and groom. No one will see you clearly anyway."

My mother held the uniform in both hands, her fingers tightening around the fabric.

The dress she had worn today... She had bought it two months in advance.

To save enough money for it, she had gone an entire month without buying herself any fresh groceries.

Every evening, she would stand in front of the mirror trying it on.

Then she'd ask me with a shy smile, "Donna... do I look too flashy in this? Do you think I'll seem less respectable than your future in-laws from the city?"

Back then, I had laughed and hugged her. "Mom, you're the prettiest woman there'll be."

Her eyes had curved into happy crescents.

But now, holding an old hotel staff uniform, she lowered her head and quietly said, "It's alright. As long as I have something to wear."

My eyes suddenly burned with tears.

Meanwhile, Derrick looked as though a weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

"Mariz really thought of everything." Then he turned to me. "And stop looking so upset, Donna. You scared Mariz so badly earlier that she cried."

"When we go back out, apologize to her in front of everyone."

Mariz pursed her lips and softly protested, "Derrick, don't force Sister Donna. I know she doesn't like me. I just wanted to help make your wedding perfect."

Derrick's expression immediately softened. "I know. Don't feel bad."

Standing off to the side, I suddenly found myself too exhausted even to sneer.

My mother lowered her head without saying a word. But I saw her tears fall silently onto the black uniform.

The stiff fabric absorbed them instantly, leaving no trace behind.

At that moment, an overwhelming calm settled over me. It turned out that from the very beginning, my parents had never been treated as honored guests at this wedding.

They had never been respected at all.

I took out my phone and sent a message to the wedding planner.

[Don't wait for the original schedule. When the ceremony starts, play what I gave you.]

The reply came almost immediately.

[Are you sure?]

I looked at Derrick, who was still lowering his head to comfort Mariz. Then I looked at my parents, desperately holding back their tears.

Slowly, I typed two words. [I'm sure.]

When I returned to the banquet hall, Mariz was sitting in the bridal lounge. Her eyes were still red as she cradled a cup of warm water in both hands.

Derrick stood in front of her, bending slightly as he gently wiped away her tears with a tissue. "Mariz... don't cry. None of this was your fault."

A first-aid kit sat on the nearby table.

My father's palm was still embedded with tiny shards of porcelain. The wound on his knee hadn't even stopped bleeding.

Yet from beginning to end, no one had thought to carry that first-aid kit into the storage room.

Mariz had shed only a few tears, and Derrick treated it as though she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world.

Watching them from a distance, I suddenly remembered something from years ago.

It was the night of the company's annual gala.

I had been burning with a high fever, waiting outside the hotel entrance for Derrick to pick me up. He had promised he'd come as soon as the meeting ended.

I waited until well past midnight. In the end, all I received was a single message.

[Mariz had too much to drink. She just joined the company. It's not safe for a young woman to go home alone, so I'm taking her back first.]

That night, my fever was so high I could barely remain standing.

Yet all I replied was, [Okay. Drive safely.]

Later that night, I took a taxi home by myself.

The driver noticed how pale I was and asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, but I just shook my head.

Back then, I still believed that Mariz was new to the company, with no one to look after her.

I thought it was only natural for Derrick to take a little extra care of her.

Now, looking back, it wasn't that he wasn't capable of being thoughtful. His kindness had simply never been reserved for me or for my family.

As I walked back into the hall, Derrick looked up at me.

"Are your parents finished?" His gaze shifted past me, and he frowned slightly. "Why haven't they changed yet?"

My mother was wearing the black hotel uniform over her torn dress, standing stiffly as though she didn't know where to put her hands.

My father stood beside her, supporting her with one arm. His wounded palm was wrapped haphazardly in tissues that had already turned crimson with blood.

Derrick acted as though he didn't notice. Instead, he turned to a staff member.

"Move Uncle and Auntie's seats farther back. It's not appropriate for them to sit at the head table anymore."

The color drained from my mother's face.

Before she could say anything, my father nodded repeatedly. "Of course. We're fine sitting anywhere."

A staff member hurried over with an updated seating chart.

My parents were moved to the very last table in the corner of the banquet hall. Beside them were stacks of spare chairs and tangled audio cables.

Every guest who passed had to frown and step around them. As though they weren't the bride's parents. As though they were nothing more than an inconvenience that had been shoved into a forgotten corner.

I looked at the seating chart and quietly asked, "Why were their seats changed?"

Derrick frowned as though the answer was obvious.

"Look at the state of their clothes. If they stay at the head table, they'll end up in the photos."

"The media is here today. I'm thinking about everyone."

Thinking about everyone.

Everyone... Except my parents.

My father quickly grabbed my arm. "Donna, the corner is fine. It's quieter there."

My mother forced a smile as well. "That's right. This way we won't accidentally ruin your wedding photos."

My chest tightened painfully. She hadn't done a single thing wrong. Yet she had already learned to make herself invisible.

Hearing those words, it reminded me of last winter.

When my mother was hospitalized for a minor surgery, I called Derrick and asked if he could come to the hospital with me.

He said he had an important meeting and couldn't leave the office. So I handled everything alone.

Running from counter to counter, paying the bills, picking up medication, and signing every consent form.

By the time I got home that evening, painful blisters had formed on both of my feet.

The next day, I saw a photo on Mariz's social media.

In the hospital corridor, Derrick was sitting beside her, and a cup of hot soy milk rested in his hand.

The caption read: [Someone was worried I'd be scared of getting my wisdom tooth pulled, so he insisted on staying with me until it was over.]

When I confronted him about it, he answered without the slightest hesitation. "Mariz has no family in this city. Your mother had you."

I had stayed silent for a long time after hearing that. In the end, I convinced myself that he was simply too soft-hearted.

But now I finally understood. He wasn't soft-hearted. He had simply decided that Mariz's tears mattered more than mine, and more than my family's.

...

The emcee approached Derrick with the ceremony schedule for a final confirmation.

When my father spotted his own name on the program, he seemed to remember something.

He hurriedly reached into the inside pocket of his suit and carefully pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

It had been creased with painstaking care. But one corner had been stained and blurred by the red wine from earlier.

"I... prepared a speech." He smiled awkwardly. "If it's still needed... I can say just a few words."

His voice grew quieter with every sentence. As though even he knew that someone like him no longer belonged on the stage.

Just then, Mariz reached over and took the speech from his hands.

"So Uncle even prepared a speech?" Mariz unfolded the paper with a smile. She had barely read the first sentence before she burst into laughter.

"Today... I am entrusting my most precious daughter to Derrick..."

She looked up at Derrick, amused. "Isn't this a little too old-fashioned? Who even says things like this at weddings anymore?"

Several staff members nearby chuckled along with her.

My father's face flushed a deep red. He reached out, hoping to take the paper back.

"My French isn't very good. And... I'm not good with words. So... I just won't say it."

But Mariz ignored the embarrassment written all over his face. Instead, she flipped to the next page.

When she noticed the annotations my father had carefully written above difficult words, she laughed again.

"Uncle, were you worried you'd mispronounce the words?"

"You really don't have to be this nervous. Honestly, no one actually wants to hear a speech like this."

The surrounding staff laughed even harder.

My father's face burned crimson.

At last, Derrick spoke, but not to defend my father. Instead, he nodded in agreement.

"Mariz has a point. "This speech really doesn't fit the style of today's wedding."

"Uncle, let's just cancel the speech."

My father tightened his grip on the paper. His lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to say something. But in the end, he only smiled faintly.

"Alright. We'll do whatever you think is best."

I watched him carefully fold the speech back into neat quarters before slipping it into the wrinkled pocket of his wine-stained suit.

His movements were painfully slow. As if, together with that speech, he was quietly folding away the last shred of his dignity.

He had spent half a month preparing those few pages.

I still remembered coming home one afternoon and finding him sitting alone in the living room, recording himself on his phone.

Whenever he stumbled over a sentence, he would delete the recording and start all over again.

He smiled sheepishly and said, "Donna... your dad isn't educated."

"But when you get married, I have to do this properly. I can't let anyone think your family has no one standing behind you."

Back then, I had laughed at how nervous he was.

"Dad," I told him, "just being there is enough."

But today, he wasn't even given the chance to stand on that stage.

...

Mariz handed the ceremony schedule back to the emcee.

"I'll give the speech instead. I know Derrick well, and I'm familiar with how everything will flow."

She turned to my parents with a gentle smile and continued, "Since Uncle and Auntie aren't comfortable speaking in front of everyone..."

"I'll offer my blessings on your behalf. It'll be the same."

My mother lowered her head while my father didn't object.

Perhaps they had already grown accustomed to it.

As long as it was for my sake, they were willing to endure anything.

At that moment, the emcee walked over. "Miss Newman, please get ready. You're up next."

Mariz smoothed the wrinkles from her dress and walked past me.

She paused beside me, lowering her voice. "Don't let Uncle and Auntie feel too bad, Donna."

"Since they can't go onstage, I'll say a few blessings for them. At least that will help save the situation."

When she finished speaking, a flicker of triumph flashed across her eyes.

I didn't even look at her. Instead, I lowered my gaze to my phone.

A message from the wedding planner had just arrived.

[Everything is ready. Should we play it now?]

I slowly lifted my head.

At the end of the red carpet, Mariz had already accepted the microphone.

Derrick stood below the stage, watching her with eyes full of warmth and indulgence.

Meanwhile, my parents sat alone in the darkest corner of the banquet hall.

One held the speech he had never been allowed to deliver. The other clutched the oversized black hotel uniform that didn't even fit her.

I slowly typed a single word. [Play.]

The next second, the massive LED screen behind the stage lit up.

What appeared on it made every single guest in the banquet hall gasp in shock.