I never thought I would be the kind of person who ruins a wedding. I am not dramatic. I am not vengeful. I pay my taxes on time, I return shopping carts, and I have never once sent back food at a restaurant. I am, by every reasonable measure, a normal person who minds her own business.
But there is a limit to how much a person can take before they stop being the bigger person and start being the person who fights back.
My name is not important. What is important is that I am 28 years old, I work in tech, and I have spent the last three years building a life I am genuinely proud of. A good apartment. A solid savings account. A credit card with a high limit that I have never once abused.
My sister Sarah is 32. She is getting married — or rather, she was getting married — to a man named Derek who I have always found mildly insufferable but tolerated for the sake of family peace. The wedding was supposed to be the event of the year. At least, that is how Sarah described it every single time it came up in conversation, which was constantly.
The problem was that Sarah and Derek had wildly expensive taste and a budget that could not keep up with it. Every week there was a new crisis. The venue was too expensive. The florist was charging too much. The photographer wanted a deposit they could not afford. I listened. I sympathized. I even lent her $800 three months ago for a bridesmaid dress situation that I will not get into right now.
I should have seen what was coming.