When Even My Wedding Became About My Sister, I Called It Off

A week before the wedding, my fiancé Matteo had two jewelry sets delivered and let my sister choose first. One was a dazzling sapphire set he had bought at an auction in Europe, the perfect match for my diamond-covered gown. The other was a black pearl necklace the jeweler had thrown in for free. The tag on the clasp still said "Complimentary." For the first time in my life, I spoke up before my sister, Viola, could. "This time, could I choose first?" Matteo ruffled my hair. "Viola represents the Bellani family in public. She needs the sapphires to look the part. You don't care about these things anyway." I didn't answer. Something inside me slowly emptied out. I had known him for more than twenty years, and everyone knew I was the one who never made things difficult for my sister. Whenever we cut our birthday cake as children, Viola took the only sugar flower on top. Matteo handed me the piece that had fallen apart. "It all tastes the same. You can make do." Later, whenever we dressed for family dinners, my sister got first pick of the gowns and chose the most striking one, while he saved the seat beside him for her. I brought the speeches I had written for them and sat in the back row. "Elena, you're the steady one. Keep an eye on things from back there." Later still, even love followed the same pattern. He proposed to Viola. She said she didn't want to become the Donna of the Moretti family so soon. Only then did he turn to me and ask if I would. I kept telling myself that the wedding, at least, was mine. But I couldn't even choose a piece of jewelry for myself without first asking whether my sister needed it. I pushed both boxes across the table. "Give them both to her. I'm not choosing." This time, I wasn't going to take what was left. Chapter 1 Matteo put his hand on the box of black pearls. "Don't sulk. How could Viola be seen wearing something the jeweler threw in for free?" I gave him a serious look. "Then why is it fine for me to get married in it?" He paused, then laughed. "You two are different. She's always been the one in the spotlight, and you don't like attention." It wasn't that I didn't like being seen. The first time I handled a difficult contract for the family, I secretly practiced a thank-you speech. Then my father said Viola was better with the press and told me to give the speech to her. As my mother fastened Viola's earrings, she spotted me in the doorway and asked why I hadn't changed into something darker. "Your sister is the star tonight. Don't take the spotlight away from her." I hung the new dress back in the closet and never wore it again. Law school, contracts, cleaning up their messes—I would learn anything. If I made myself useful enough, surely one day they would put me first. But even my own wedding wasn't mine to decide. "Matteo, let's call off the engagement." He looked at me for a few seconds, as if he were still humoring a child. "Over a set of jewelry? I'll have the jeweler send more tomorrow. Take your time choosing." Viola took off the sapphires and pushed them toward me. "Take them. I can wear something else. Don't let this come between you two because of me." Matteo pushed them straight back. "These were chosen to go with your gown. Stop passing them back and forth." Neither of the two sets had ever been meant for me. I didn't even need to compete with my sister. Before she said a word, he had already chosen for her. To him, even my anger only meant I was waiting for the next gift. By then, he already had an arm around my shoulders and was steering me out. "Let's go to the showroom. You can keep looking until you find something you like." The private showroom was downstairs. The jeweler had just opened the catalog when Viola said her earrings felt a little heavy and she wanted a different pair. Matteo took the catalog and went through it with her. She hesitated between two pairs. He signed the order on the spot. "Keep them both. Wear the one you like. The other pair goes to Elena, and you can swap later if you want." He handed me the remaining box. "See? Isn't that better than the black pearls? Happy now?" I didn't take it. A minute ago, he had said it himself. I was the one choosing. It was almost funny, but I couldn't bring myself to laugh. How many more times would I have to say it before they believed these things mattered to me too? "You don't need to buy me anything anymore. I'm moving my things out." His hand finally went still. "Elena, what kind of joke is this? Stop it." That evening, he asked my parents to come over. My mother grabbed my wrist the moment she walked in. "You're marrying into the Moretti family, and you'd call it off over a few stones? "Your sister knows how to work a room. She makes this family look good. She's negotiated deal after deal. What can you do besides read a few documents? Matteo is willing to marry you, and that's still not enough?" I flinched at the pain. I had heard all of it many times before. I could secure a full page of rights for them at the negotiating table and still not earn a shred of respect. Matteo stepped in front of me. "Don't talk to her like that. Elena's fine. She's just upset right now." My mother turned on me at once. "You see? He still stands up for you. If you dare cancel this engagement, don't ever come home again!" One word in my defense, and I was supposed to forget who had wronged me in the first place? I answered calmly, "All right." They relaxed immediately, sure I had finally come around. Back in the study, I locked the door and took out my law license. The tears didn't come until I called Noah. "You said your firm in North Harbor still needed a lead attorney and that you were waiting for me. Does that still stand?" "Of course. But aren't you getting married next week?" I looked at the wedding schedule. They had even spelled my name wrong. I laughed, just once. "What if the bride doesn't show up?" Chapter 2 Noah thought I was joking. To him, I was the lawyer who never gave an inch for a client but went home and said "it's fine" to everything. But if I stopped being agreeable, nobody would need me. My sister only had to show up to make everyone happy. I had to do so much just to earn a single "thank goodness for Elena." I had always mistaken being needed for being loved. The next day, Matteo came to pick me up, as planned, to see the estate where we would live after the wedding. I was heading for the passenger seat when he caught my arm. "Viola gets carsick. You sit in the back." My sister came out just then. He opened the door for her and held his hand against the doorframe so she wouldn't bump her head. I got into the back seat and didn't ask why she was coming. I had designed the second-floor study myself. It was where I would work on client files after the wedding. I had gone back and forth with the designer over which lamp to put beside the desk. Matteo had never looked at the plans. "As long as you like it," he said. At the time, I thought that meant he was leaving the decision to me. Viola stood at the window for a while, then said, "This would be good for small meetings. Could I borrow it for the family negotiations next month?" "Of course." Matteo called the butler and told him to move my desk to the side wing and bring in a conference table. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, discussing where the guests would sit and which door was best for security. I stood in the doorway and honestly couldn't tell which one of us was moving into this house. Viola looked back. "Elena, you don't mind, do you?" I looked at Matteo. "Do you know why I set up this room?" "You can work anywhere. The family negotiations matter. You know better than anyone what's important." I unclenched my hand. My nails had dug into my palm. "Then go ahead and use it." He patted my head, satisfied. I turned to the butler and added, "Send my things back to my apartment. There's no need to move them to the side wing." Matteo's smile faltered. I didn't explain. I just packed up my laptop. At least this time, I didn't have to figure out exactly how far they expected me to step back. But it still hurt to think I would never wait here for him to come home. Giving up a study was easy. Giving up the life I had secretly imagined so many times was not. As we left the estate, the dressmaker called. My dress for the wedding reception was ready. Viola took my arm. "I'll come help you look it over." The dress in the mirror was beautiful. I had made more than ten trips to the shop for it and reworked the neckline myself. For the first time, I thought I could be the center of attention too. Then my sister took a call, and her face fell. Her gown for that evening's dinner had been ruined in transit. After looking over the ready-made dresses in the shop, Matteo pointed to the one I was wearing. "That one will do. Viola, try it on." The dressmaker spoke up quickly. "That gown was custom-made for the bride. If I alter it to fit her sister, it can't be changed back." Matteo glanced at me as if there were no problem at all. My sister needed it. So she got it. My chest tightened, but it didn't hurt the way it used to. "It's fine." I went into the fitting room, took off the dress, and handed it to my sister. Matteo looked surprised, then smiled. "I knew you wouldn't make this hard for me. I'll help you pick another one later." But the moment my sister came out, he crouched down and arranged every layer of her skirt. "Careful. Don't step on it." I had imagined a scene like that for myself. At my first gown fitting, the dressmaker asked him to straighten my veil. He didn't even put down his phone. "Doesn't the shop have people for this?" So it wasn't that he didn't know how to be gentle. He just didn't want to be gentle with me. I stared at his back and suddenly wanted to cry. When I was little, my mother thought I wasn't as charming as my sister and made me stay in my room. Matteo was the only one who ever snuck me chocolate. "You're not that bad. Stop crying." I carried that one sentence with me for years. Later, whenever he put in a word for me, I felt I could wait a little longer. When my sister turned him down and he proposed to me, I knew exactly why, and I said yes anyway. I thought that if he chose me in the end, it would prove I wasn't just an extra in my own family. So that was what I had never been able to let go of. My phone buzzed. Noah was asking when I could come in to talk. Matteo had already pulled a black dress off the rack and was urging me to change into it. "This one's safe. Viola has somewhere to be. Don't keep her waiting." Black again. Saving her time again. I didn't take it. I asked the dressmaker to cancel the remaining fittings and return my design sketches to me. On my way out of the shop, I replied to Noah, "The day of the wedding. I'll be there." Chapter 3 My birthday—and Viola's—fell three days before the wedding. In the middle of the table sat a single almond cake. Matteo had ordered it. My sister loved almonds. I was severely allergic to them. When my mother saw I hadn't touched the cake, she said cutting back on sweets would help me look better in a wedding dress. Matteo placed the party hat on Viola's head. "You make a wish first." I watched him light the candles for her, then suddenly called his name. "You remembered to bring two sets of jewelry. Why only one cake?" He paused. "Hasn't it always been this way?" "So I don't get a birthday, ever. Is that it?" My mother put down her napkin. "Your sister has barely slept these past few days. It's just one cake. Do you have to fight over it?" "I only wanted to make a wish too." My mother acted as if she hadn't understood. "Aren't you about to marry Matteo? What more could you want?" Matteo added, "Don't keep everyone waiting." Suddenly, I couldn't speak. When a contract went wrong, they knew to come to me. When my sister's speech wasn't written in time, they knew to come to me. But the moment I wanted something I didn't have to work for, I was being difficult. Viola closed her eyes, and everyone started singing "Happy Birthday" to her. By the time it was my turn, the candles had burned down. My mother was already telling the staff to pass the cake around. "Next year we'll get you your own." For more than twenty years, the answer had always been next year. I didn't want to ask anymore. I just didn't understand. When they didn't need anything from me, was I not worth loving? My father soon changed the subject to the wedding. "A lot of our partners will be there. It's the perfect chance for Viola to present the new project." Matteo nodded at once. "Cut the couple's slideshow. Give her that time slot." I had made that slideshow. I had searched through more than twenty years of photographs and barely found a few of just the two of us. Marisa, the wedding planner, asked which one I most wanted to show. I chose the one from when he first proposed to me. He was looking at the camera. I was looking at him. When I cropped my sister out, I was afraid he would see how petty I was. Now he thought even those few minutes could be hers. Viola smiled. "You don't have to. Don't let it get in the way of Elena's wedding." "How would it? I'll arrange everything for you." They started discussing the display and the speaking order. I sat beside them like I was just another guest. It was just as well. This wedding wasn't going to have a bride. I said I had a headache and went upstairs to pack. Downstairs was still buzzing with activity. They were waiting for the council to announce the Bellani family's new chief negotiator. I took my license out of the drawer, along with my design sketches and the share certificates my grandmother had left me. The year I came of age, my father had me sign a proxy giving him my voting rights. "We're family. It doesn't matter whose name is on it." I believed him, just as I'd always believed they would remember that I was the one who had done the work whenever I handed over a finished document. Now I didn't want to wait for them to remember anymore. I sent the documents to my own lawyer and asked him to check the procedure for revoking the proxy. Outside the window, a cheer went up. Viola had been chosen. She smiled as she complained. "But the ceremony for my appointment is on the morning of the wedding. None of you can be with me at the most important moment." I stood behind the door, holding my phone. Matteo answered at once, "How could we leave you on your own?" Chapter 4 He knocked on my door and asked as casually as if we were discussing something ordinary, "Elena, let's move the wedding to the evening, all right? "Viola's appointment ceremony will only happen once." I looked at him and suddenly found it funny. And how many weddings was I supposed to have? Marisa reminded us over the phone that the church arrangements and the guests' travel plans had already been finalized, and any last-minute change required the bride's consent. My mother answered for me. "She'll agree." Matteo looked at me with gentle certainty. "You're the reasonable one." I suddenly remembered the first time I won an award for my legal aid work. My parents said they couldn't come because my sister had an important interview. Matteo promised he would be there, but in the end, he went to my sister's interview too. I stood onstage holding my certificate, and every family in the audience had come for someone else. Afterward, he called to ask if I could look over my sister's interview notes as well. So all those years, I had been standing in the same place, waiting for the same person to let me down again. It wasn't that I didn't understand how much my sister's ceremony mattered. I only wondered whether, just once, I could matter without having to explain why. "Fine. Move it to the evening." A wedding without me could be held whenever they liked. They were happy again. After the celebration, Matteo lay drunk on the sofa in the apartment. My bags were already packed, but I still couldn't stop myself from asking him, "Are you looking forward to our wedding?" He mumbled something like a yes. Even that much, somehow, was still enough to give me a flicker of hope. "Then why are you marrying me?" "You're steady. You know the rules... You're suited to being the Donna." "And if Viola had said yes back then?" His eyes stayed closed. After a long silence, he answered, "Then of course it wouldn't be you." My hand tightened around the glass. "A man has to accept reality. If I marry you, at least I still get to see her often." I thought I had known the answer all along. Hearing it still knocked the breath out of me. I had made excuses for him so many times. He just couldn't let go of an old regret. One day, he would finally see me. It had never occurred to me that even his decision to marry me was about my sister. So I wasn't just his second choice. The life I had so carefully prepared for was his way of staying close to another woman. I sat there for a long time before taking off the ring. That night, my lawyer confirmed that the notice revoking the proxy had been delivered to the company. Following his checklist, I canceled the existing signature authorizations tied to my name. Doing it didn't make me feel lighter right away. I was afraid of my father's anger and that my mother really would disown me. But I couldn't say I was leaving while still giving them the right to decide my life. On the wedding day, the house was busy before dawn. My mother chose my sister's earrings. My father confirmed the route. Matteo pinned the family crest on her, and she wore the sapphires around her neck. I came down with my suitcase and said I was going to the venue first. "Good. Make sure the guests are taken care of." He didn't look up. All the drivers were busy transporting council members, so I called a car myself. In the rearview mirror, I watched my family gather around my sister as she got into the car. They left for the ceremony. My car headed for the airport. At the terminal, I asked Marisa to cancel everything involving the bride and paid the fees required under the contract. She asked whether Matteo knew. "Please send the formal notice to him as well." I turned off my phone. When the plane landed in North Harbor, I saw Noah waving to me from the other side of the crowd. That evening, in another city, Matteo finally arrived at the hotel after the ceremony. Marisa came to meet him, her face pale. "Don Moretti, the bride never showed up. She says the wedding is canceled."