Betrayed Before “I DO”

Today was the day. It was supposed to be perfect. My twenty-first birthday. But, more importantly, the day before my wedding to the love of my life. It was everything I had dreamed of since I was a little girl. Perfect. Or at least… it should have been. “Birthday girl. There you are.” My stepmother, Nancy, called out the moment she saw me coming down the stairs. Her voice was bright—too bright—and the house was filled with noise, decorations, and people moving around as if this were some celebration I had asked for. It wasn’t. It was a performance. And I was expected to smile through it. I forced one anyway. “Good morning.” Nancy crossed the room and pressed a kiss to my cheek, as if we were a loving mother and daughter. As if we hadn’t spent years pretending the other didn’t exist unless it was for show. “Big day tomorrow,” she said, smoothing a hand over my arm. “You’re going to look stunning. Everything is coming together nicely.” Everything. My gaze drifted across the room. My father stood by the window. He barely looked at me. But that wasn’t new. “There she is—there’s my beautiful girl.” I didn’t need to turn to know who he meant. Amelia. Of course. My stepsister stood there as she belonged in the centre of everything, her smile bright, her posture perfect. My father moved towards her without hesitation, pride written all over his face. I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat. She glanced at me, that familiar smug smirk curling at her lips. She knew. She knew exactly what she was doing. “Happy birthday, little sister,” Amelia said sweetly as she walked over and wrapped her arms around me. Her perfume was overpowering, suffocating. Fake. Everything about her was fake. “Thanks,” I muttered, pulling away quickly. “We have dinner tonight, don’t we? How many people are coming, Mother?” Amelia asked, before turning back to me with a tilt of her head. “And Daniel… are you sure he’ll be coming? He hasn’t had second thoughts?” The smirk was back. Like she knew something I didn’t. A small flicker of unease settled in my chest. I ignored it. “Why would you say that?” I snapped, my patience already thinning. “Maisie, be nice to your sister,” my father cut in sharply, stepping between us like I was the problem. Amelia instantly clung to him, her fingers gripping his arm. “Oh, Maisie, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice trembling as her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Crocodile tears. Always perfectly timed. I rolled my eyes, exhaling sharply. Nothing ever changed. Not since the day my father brought her and Nancy into our home. Two weeks. Two weeks after my mother died, he erased her as if she had never existed. The house was stripped of her. Her photos. Her things. Her memory. He didn’t even let me go to her funeral. Just told me to be a good girl and get on with it. My chest tightened as old memories pushed forward. Amelia taking my mother’s art room as her bedroom. Amelia throwing herself down the stairs and blamed me. Amelia ripping my prom dress and watching me panic. And every single time— My father chose her. Every. Single. Time. I clenched my fists at my sides, staring straight at her. She wanted a reaction. She always did. She couldn’t stand not being the center of attention. “Maisie, apologize to Amelia so we can get on with the day,” Nancy sighed, as if I was the inconvenience. Amelia smirked. That was it. “I’m not apologizing for anything,” I said coldly. “She’s not even my real sister.” Nancy gasped in disbelief whilst Amelia pretended to be hurt by my words. The room fell quiet for half a second. Then I turned to walk away. I barely made it two steps. My father grabbed my arm and yanked me back so hard it sent a jolt through my body. Pain shot up my arm as his grip tightened. I gasped, stumbling slightly as he forced me to face him. The anger in his eyes was sharp. Embarrassed. Humiliated. But not because of her. Because of me. “Is this how I raised you?” he hissed. “To be rude? Disrespectful? Where are your manners?” His grip tightened further, and I felt tears sting my eyes. “Apologise. Now.” Before I could react, he shoved me. Hard. The force knocked the breath out of me as my knees hit the floor. Pain shot up my legs, but it wasn’t the worst part. The humiliation burned hotter. Being on my knees. In front of her. “Oh, Daddy, it’s okay,” Amelia said softly, stepping forward. “I forgive her. It is her birthday, after all.” She sounded so kind. So understanding. So perfect. My father immediately let go of me, wrapping an arm around her instead. Nancy moved to her side, gently rubbing her back like she was the one who had been hurt. “See how lucky you are to have such a kind, caring sister?” my father said, shaking his head at me. “You could learn a lot from Amelia.” I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. If I opened my mouth, I knew I would say something I couldn’t take back. “Maisie, go and get changed,” Nancy added dismissively. “At least try to look presentable.” Like I wasn’t already invisible enough. I pushed myself up slowly, ignoring the sting in my knees, wiping my face with the back of my hand before anyone could see the tears. I wouldn’t give them that. Not today. Not ever again. Tomorrow, I’d be gone. Married. Free from this house, from my father and my stepmother and spoilt stepsister that could never stand me, everything had always been a competition with her. But, not any more. I was done with her. I deserved a happy ending with the man who loved me for who I was. A new life. A better life. With my Daniel. "Happy birthday, Maisie," Amelia called out to me. As I glanced up, my eyes met Amelia's. That familiar, triumphant smirk, as if she had won. Again.