Some people say blood is thicker than water. What they don’t tell you is that sometimes, blood can drown you.
I’m Justin, 26, and I’ve spent my life watching my parents choose my sister over me.
When they skipped my wedding for her, my best man turned their absence into something unforgettable.
Growing up in Millbrook felt like living in my sister Casey’s shadow.
She’s 32 now, six years older than me, and she’s perfected the art of making everything about herself.
When we were kids, I’d score the winning goal at my basketball game, and Casey would suddenly develop a mysterious stomach ache that required immediate attention.
A young girl shrugging beside an annoyed teenage boy | Source: Freepik
My high school graduation? Casey had a “panic attack” about a job interview the next week.
My college acceptance letter? Casey’s boyfriend broke up with her that same day.
“Justin, you understand, right?” Mom would say, her hand already reaching for her purse to drive Casey somewhere. “Your sister needs us right now.”
Dad would nod along, patting my shoulder with the kind of absent gesture you’d give a dog.
“You’re tough, kiddo. You get it.”
But I didn’t get it. I never got it.
When I proposed to my girlfriend, Veronica, last spring, I made a decision.
I sat my parents down in their kitchen, the same one where I’d eaten countless dinners alone while they dealt with Casey’s latest crisis.
“Look, I’m getting married in October,” I said, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “And I need you both to promise me something. Promise me Casey won’t hijack this wedding.”
Mom laughed, that tinkling sound she made when she thought I was being silly.
“Oh, Justin, don’t be so dramatic. We’ll be there. It’s your wedding day!”
Dad leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed.
“Besides, what’s the big deal? It’s just a party, right? You cut a cake, dance a little, and boom, you’re married!” He chuckled at his own wisdom.
“We raised you better than to be a bridezilla.”
“It’s not about being dramatic, Dad. It’s about showing up for once.”
“We always show up,” Mom said, but her eyes were already drifting toward her phone. Casey had probably texted.
“When?
When have you ever shown up for me without Casey needing something?”
They exchanged that look, the one that said I was being unreasonable… the one I’d been seeing my whole life.
“We’ll be there, honey,” Dad said finally. “I promise.”
The weeks leading up to the wedding were like watching a slow-motion car crash. Casey started small, testing the waters.
“So, about this bridesmaid dress,” she said during a family dinner, twirling her fork in her pasta.
“Pink really isn’t my color. It washes me out completely.”
“It’s dusty rose,” Veronica corrected gently. “And it’s what we chose for the wedding party.”
Casey’s smile was sharp as broken glass.
“Well, I guess some people look good in anything. Others need colors that actually complement their skin tone.”
I felt Veronica’s hand tighten on mine under the table. “Casey, you’re not even in the wedding party.
You’re just a guest.”
“Oh, I know. But I figured I’d help out anyway. I mean, someone should make sure this wedding actually looks good in photos.”
A displeased woman seated at the dining table | Source: Freepik
Mom jumped in quickly.
“Casey’s just trying to help, Justin. She has such good taste.”
That’s when I should have known. That’s when I should have seen what was coming.
***
My wedding day arrived bright and pleasant on October 15.
I woke up in my apartment, sunlight streaming through the windows, feeling like maybe, just maybe, this would be the day they chose me first.
Arnold, my best man, the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real brother, was already making coffee. “Big day, man! You ready for this?”
“More than ready!” I said, and I meant it.
Veronica and I had been together for three years. She was everything I’d ever wanted and hoped for. She was someone who actually put me first.
I was buttoning my shirt when my phone buzzed with a voicemail from Mom.
My stomach dropped as I played it:
“Hi sweetie! Listen, we’re not going to make it today. Casey found this little lump on Buster’s neck this morning, and you know how she gets about that dog.
She’s completely beside herself… crying, shaking, the whole thing. The vet can’t see them until Monday, but she’s convinced it’s a bug bite or something weird. Still, she doesn’t want to leave him alone, and honestly, we can’t leave her like this either.
You understand, right? Take lots of pictures! We can’t wait to see them later!”
The phone slipped from my numb fingers, and Arnold caught it before it hit the floor.
“What did she say, man?”
I couldn’t speak, breathe, or process that they’d actually done it again.
My phone chimed with a text from Casey: “Told you nothing would change.
Some people never learn… 💅”
That’s when something inside me broke. Not the dramatic, explosive kind of break. The quiet kind.
The kind where you finally stop hoping for something that was never going to happen.
Arnold played the voicemail over my shoulder. His face went white, then red, then something I’d never seen before — pure rage.
“Are you kidding me right now?” He grabbed my phone. “Are you actually kidding me?”
“Arnold, don’t—”
“No.” He was already moving, heading for the door.
“I’m done watching them do this to you. Veronica needs to hear this.”
Twenty minutes later, Veronica was in my room, her wedding dress half-on, tears streaming down her face. Not sad tears.
Angry ones.
“That’s it,” she hissed. “Arnold, you have my permission to do whatever you want with that voicemail.”Doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page. Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
