You Weren’t Invited to My Wedding, Ex!



’

Chapter 1

Jacob—my boyfriend—and Luther, who always had a crush on me, both turned cold the moment Lavenia, my best friend, showed up. They started dating her right in front of me.

I watched them on that yacht, laughing and sweet, like I didn’t exist anymore. That was when I called my mother and said yes—to the arranged marriage they’d been pushing for years.

Then Lavenia showed up with her birthday cake, acting all innocent. She shoved it into her own face and started crying, blaming me for shoving it into her. Jacob exploded with anger and shoved me into the sea. I almost drowned.

If Sebastian hadn’t pulled me out—a stranger, and the man my parents chose as my fiancé—I wouldn’t be here now.

That night, Jacob and Luther came with empty apologies. “Just one dinner,” they said. “Let us fix this."

I dressed like I believed them. But they kicked me out of the car when Lavenia called them and screamed she's scared... They left me alone on the sidewalk.

That's where a thief stabbed me multiple times. When I woke up in the hospital, I didn’t cry. The moment I was discharged, I booked a flight away from all of them.

Jacob’s text came next:

“You’re cheating on me now? After everything we’ve been through? I can’t believe you’d do this.”

I read it twice and replied coldly:

“You’re cordially invited to my wedding.”

--

"Your father arranged a marriage for you years ago. Now that your health’s stabilized… will you go through with it?"

I didn’t hesitate.

"Yes," I said, my voice flat. "Tell Father to prepare the paperwork. And make sure the wedding isn’t tacky. I’m not here for romance. I’m here to win."

My mother didn’t flinch at my tone. She agreed, offered a few suggestions, and I gave her a list of my own before hanging up.

It was supposed to be Lavenia’s birthday. One weekend on Jacob’s yacht. Glitter, champagne, fake smiles.

Instead, I watched her kiss my boyfriend. Jacob.

Upper deck. Frosting on her cheek. His hands on her body. His brother, Luther—who used to be like a big brother to me—handing her a towel like this wasn’t betrayal in HD.

Lavenia. My best friend. My ride-or-die since age nine. She used to braid my hair and swear she’d never touch what was mine. Now she’s tasting cake off Jacob’s fingers like it’s foreplay.

And Jacob? The man who bled for me. Who once called me his future. He didn’t even flinch when I walked past.

Didn’t blink.

I didn’t cry. Didn’t scream.

I just came downstairs. Sea air thick in my lungs. Heart dead quiet. Sat on the velvet lounge sofa tucked into the yacht’s lower deck suite and called my mother.

Because if I want revenge, I need power.

And power doesn’t come from tears.

A few minutes later, I heard designer heels tapping on the staircase. Then a knock on my cabin door.

“Pearl?” a sugary voice chimed.

I didn’t answer. She pushed the door open anyway.

Lavenia waltzed in like she owned the yacht, carrying a Black Forest cake with one candle stuck dead center. Her makeup was flawless—glossy lips, fluttery lashes—but there were a few smudges of whipped cream on her cheek. Deliberate. Always.

“Pearl, will you come upstairs? Everyone’s asking about you.”

Her tone was sweet, eyes wide like some Disney deer. But I’d seen her fangs too many times.

“No,” I said flatly, not even turning around. “I have work.”

A flicker of something crossed her face. Disappointment? No. Calculation.

“You don’t like me,” she said softly. “That’s why you’re always avoiding me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are we doing this again?”

She blinked rapidly, like she was about to cry on cue. And maybe she was. I’d seen her pull this routine on Jacob a thousand times.

“I’m not in the mood, Lavenia. Save the performance for your fan club.”

I moved toward the door.

She stepped back—then suddenly stumbled, struggling as the cake flew from her hands and smashed across her chest, rich chocolate and whipped cream splattering like a crime scene.

Right on cue, Jacob and Luther appeared at the top of the staircase like trained guard dogs. They rushed toward her, shoving past me like I didn’t exist.

“Lavi! Oh my god—what happened?” Jacob’s voice was tight, eyes locked on her frosting-smeared dress.

“She shoved me,” Lavenia whimpered, clutching the ruined cake like it was a mortal wound. “I was just trying to bring her something sweet. For old times. She—she pushed it into me.”

I stared at her, stunned. “What?”

“She what?” Luther’s eyes blazed. “Pearl, what the heck is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t touch her,” I snapped. “She dropped it herself. You all saw nothing but you're ready to believe this?”

Jacob didn’t even glance my way. He was too busy dabbing frosting off Lavenia’s shoulder like it was acid.

“Lavi, does it hurt?” he murmured.

She sniffled and leaned into his chest. “Just a little. It’s okay… I shouldn’t have bothered her. She hates me now.”

“You were her best friend,” Luther said, glaring at me. “You were like sisters. She always called you her only real friend. And this is how you treat her? Because you're jealous?”

Jealous.

I laughed—quiet, bitter. “You two belong in a soap opera. All that’s missing is a coma and a fake baby.”

Jacob turned, jaw clenched. “You’re going to apologize."

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, voice low and furious. “Apologize to Lavenia. Now.”

I stared him down, arms crossed. “No.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then forget about the wedding we planned. You don’t apologize by tomorrow, I’m not proposing to you next month. Consider it off the table.”

Silence snapped tight between us.

Luther scoffed behind him. “You still wanna marry her, bro? Her true colors are showing now. What a waste. If I were you, I’d never marry a woman like her.”

I tilted my head slowly, eyes locked on him.

“That’s why no one ever would,” I said, voice like satin over steel.

Luther flushed. Jacob's jaw ticked. Lavenia looked positively radiant, loving every second of the chaos she brewed.

Then I turned toward the side railing to head back inside—but Jacob’s hand gripped my wrist. I barely had time to blink before he shoved me.

Over the rail. Into the sea.

Splash.

The cold hit me like knives. My lungs clenched. The darkness swallowed me whole.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream.

Help.

My hands flailed above the surface, mouth struggling for air, choking on salt and panic. The water dragged at me like an anchor. I didn’t know how to swim. They knew that.

“Pearl?!” Lavenia’s voice rang out behind me, loud and dramatic. “Somebody help—Pearl doesn’t know how to swim!”

But it wasn’t panic. It was a performance.

“Let her be,” Jacob said coolly, standing above like a god with no mercy. “That’s for bullying you. She’s been nothing but trouble and maybe she’ll learn something after this.”

I couldn’t even breathe anymore. I sank.

That’s when I felt arms break through the water—strong, foreign, unfamiliar. A hand wrapped around my body. The pull of the surface returned.

A stranger’s voice, low and steady. “I’ve got you.”

I coughed violently as my head broke above water.

Chapter 2

The yacht docked at port just after dawn.

No one said a word to me. Not Jacob. Not Luther. Not even Lavenia, who had cried so hard last night I almost believed her. Almost.

I stepped off the deck in silence, soaked to the marrow with salt and humiliation, my skin still chilled from nearly drowning—and not just in water.

Jacob had pushed me. Straight into the dark waves.

And he hadn’t even flinched.

“That's what you get,” he’d said afterward. “For being jealous. For acting like the world owes you something.”

Not a sorry. Not a hand offered. Not even a glance of regret. And when that stranger dove in, dragging me back to the dock—he vanished like mist. No name. No thanks. Just a blur in the crowd. A ghost in human form.

I stumbled back to the apartment alone. Shaking. Done. The second I stepped inside, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I packed.

Drawers opened. Suitcases filled. Clothes. Passports. Hard drives. The necklace my grandmother gave me. Anything worth keeping—anything untouched by them—was coming with me.

I was folding my last coat when my phone buzzed.

A message from Lavenia. Not even pretending to be subtle this time.

“Hey Pearl~ Check out my Insta! New pics!”

The nerve.

I tapped the screen, already knowing what I’d see.

There she was again—crowned and smug. Draped in one of my silk robes, the pink one from Milan I’d left on the yacht. Jacob beside her, shirtless, half-asleep, his arm around her and his nose nearly grazing her barely covered upper body.

Luther on her other side, holding her like she was some kind of queen. A queen of snakes.

Caption:

“Best night ever with my fav boys. Thanks for making my birthday unforgettable. I loved every whip and bit of cream you gave me. ”

“And guess what, Pearl? Jacob gave me your brand-new car. Said it was his money anyway, and the color suits me better. But don’t worry—I’ll let you borrow it… if you say please.”

Then she posted my car on her insta. I just laughed.

I tapped the little heart under her post, let it turn red, and tossed my phone on the bed. Tomorrow, I’d be gone. And when I left, I wasn’t taking ghosts with me.

***

I submitted my resignation at the firm that afternoon, handed it in with a smile and shook a few hands like I wasn’t dismantling my entire life. When I got back to the apartment, it was time for the final cut.

I dragged out a worn leather box from under the bed—heavy with memories and promises. Inside were the tokens of my past with them, each one a shard of what we used to be.

Jacob’s silver necklace, delicate and engraved with a secret phrase only we ever knew. Luther’s old cigarette lighter, battered and cold, but still weighted with memories of smoky nights and whispered secrets. The cracked glass of Jacob’s luxury watch, frozen in time, ticking no more.

I pulled out the crumpled love letters Jacob had written me when I was sixteen—folded poems hidden away, words I’d believed once were forever. Alongside them, notes from Luther—carefully folded, tucked beneath my door during sleepless nights at college.

There was the leather jacket Jacob promised would be mine forever, its worn sleeves smelling faintly of his cologne. Luther’s dented motorcycle helmet, the one we’d joked about racing across the countryside with. And the tiny music box that played our song—the one we all loved—now silent and gathering dust.

Click. Flame.

I set the edge of the leather jacket alight first. It curled, blackening quickly. I tossed in the letters, the necklace, the lighter, the watch. Each item caught fire, the flames touching hungrily at the remnants of us.

By the time Jacob burst into the room, half my past was already ash.

“Pearl—what on earth are you doing?!” His voice cracked, eyes wild.

I didn’t flinch. “Getting rid of mold.”

“That’s a lie!” He stepped closer, desperation in his voice. “These aren’t just things. They’re our memories.”

Luther followed, eyes darting to the burning pile. He lunged to grab the map but yelped when the flames bit at his fingers. “You’re insane. You just destroyed everything we had.”

I met his gaze, cold and steady. “You gave my car to Lavenia. She gets the gifts, she can keep the memories too.”

“You’re really doing this? Are you still not done throwing tantrums? You ruined her birthday last night with your immaturity.”

I smiled, bitter and calm. “Yeah. I’m done. This is the last time… you’ll ever see me.”

They watched the smoke curl up to the ceiling, the ashes settling like the end of us.

Funny how they almost burned the city down for Lavenia’s fake tears—but when I was breaking apart, not one of them asked why.

Now, they cried over what was left in flames.

Chapter 3

Jacob and Luther didn’t give up that easily. After seeing the photos burn, they tried to patch things up—two lost boys grasping at a thread.

“Come on, Pearl,” Jacob said, rubbing the back of his neck like he was about to confess to a crime. “Let’s go out to dinner. Our treat.”

Luther nodded, voice softer than usual. “Yeah. Our favorite restaurant. Let's go there. Please. Just one dinner. Let us make it right.”

I said nothing but nodded. Inside, I already knew it would be our last night together.

We rode in Jacob’s sleek black car, the silence thick and awkward like static between us. Then Luther’s phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen and grimaced. “It’s Lavenia.”

I heard the panic in his voice as he answered. “Lavenia? What’s wrong?”

Her high-pitched voice shattered the quiet. “The power’s out... someone broke into the house. I’m so scared—there’s a thief. Please, come quick!”

Jacob’s jaw tightened. He glanced at me and then back to Luther. “Pearl, get out.”

“What?” I blinked, stunned.

“We’ll be back after we check on Lavenia,” Jacob said sharply. “You can’t come with us.”

Before I could argue, they opened the door and shoved me out onto the dark, wet street. Rain immediately soaked my hair and clothes.

They didn’t even wait for me to reach shelter before speeding off, red taillights bleeding into the storm.

I just stood there a moment, soaked to the bone, mascara bleeding like betrayal.

Then I smiled.

Bitter and clean.

Because now I knew—this wasn’t the last dinner.

This was the funeral feast. And they didn’t even realize they’d been attending their own eulogy.

***

I kicked off my heels three blocks in. They were satin, too slippery in the rain, and my toes were already blistered. I held them by the straps as I walked barefoot down the soaked pavement, dress clinging to my skin, hair stuck to my neck, every breath colder than the last. No taxi stopped. Not one.

They saw me, I know they did. Drivers slowed, took one look at the drenched girl limping through the dark, and sped up like I was a ghost they didn’t want to deal with.

I didn’t cry. Not then.

I turned into an alley I thought was a shortcut, thinking maybe if I just cut through to the main road I’d catch a cab or a bus or even collapse near a streetlamp like some poetic wreck. But the shortcut had teeth.

He stepped out from behind a dumpster, face shadowed and hoodie soaked through. I saw the glint of the knife too late, felt the rough shove of his hand before I even registered what he said. Something about a wallet, maybe my bag, maybe my phone. I didn’t care. I fought back anyway.

I punched and clawed and screamed until my throat broke open, and that’s when he stabbed me. Once in the gut, then again lower, and a third time when I tried to crawl away. The pain was sharp and hot and then cold, so cold it stole my breath. I remember falling. I remember the way the pavement kissed my cheek like a farewell.

And then I remember headlights.

A door slamming.

Someone shouting my name.

Arms lifting me.

I tried to speak, tried to tell them to call my aunt, tell her I’m sorry, tell her I won’t be able to bring those cookies after all. But my lips didn’t move. My vision blurred into static.

Then I saw him.

That face.

Him.

The same stranger who had jumped into the ocean during Lavenia’s birthday party. The same man who pulled me out of the freezing water when Jacob pushed me from the yacht deck “by accident.” I thought I hallucinated him that night. I thought maybe the sea gave me an angel.

But he was real.

He looked down at me as I bled through his white dress shirt, cradled in his arms, soaked from rain and blood and regret.

“Stay with me, Pearl,” he said, voice deep and calm and commanding. “You’re not dying tonight. Not like this.”

“Who… are you?” I think I whispered.

He gave the ghost of a smile. “Sebastian.”

Then he vanished again.

Not in smoke or light, but in the clean, cruel way people like him do—when a secretary called his name and he slipped from the hospital room without asking for thanks.

I stayed there for a week. Tubes in my arms, stitches in my stomach, silence in my soul. No visitors. No calls. Not even my mom—I told the nurses not to tell her. What was the point? I needed to lie still and feel it. The death of whatever part of me still hoped someone would come.

And then on the day I was discharged, still pale and in a hospital gown, they appeared.

Lavenia was on a stretcher, bleeding from her arms, wrists wrapped in soaked gauze, mascara smeared across her perfect porcelain face. She wailed like a siren. Jacob held her hand, whispering something soft, and Luther was right behind, holding her bag like a loyal mule.

I stood in the corridor and they passed me.

And they froze.

Jacob blinked like he saw a corpse.

Luther looked completely blindsided.

Pearl?

That was all Jacob said.

I looked at them both, then down at the IV tape still on my hand. I hadn’t even changed yet. The nurses were packing my things. I was supposed to go home. Instead, I met them.

“You’re here?” Luther asked, voice hollow.

“You were in the hospital?” Jacob stepped forward, reaching, but I stepped back.

I laughed. Not loud. Not crazy. Just broken. “You didn’t even know,” I said quietly, “I was here for a week. Fighting to live. And none of you even noticed I was gone.”

Their mouths opened but no words came out.

And behind them, Lavenia screamed again, stealing all their attention.

Of course she did. And once again, they turned toward her. And once again, I walked away.

This time barefoot. This time bleeding inside.

This time—free.

Chapter 4

The apartment was still dark when I arrived. No lights. No warmth. Just stale air and the faint scent of something rotting in the sink. I didn’t bother flipping the switch. I dropped my bag by the door and kicked it shut behind me, each step echoing too loudly in the silence.

I didn’t even change. The hospital gown was thin under my hoodie, but I didn’t care. I collapsed onto the couch face-first, arms dangling over the side like I was boneless. The fabric scratched against my bandages, but exhaustion won.

Sleep wasn’t kind. It never is when your dreams know the truth before your mouth does.

Hours passed. I woke up groggy and sore, blinking into the darkness, and then I heard it.

Clattering.

From the kitchen.

I sat up slowly, my body heavy and cold and aching, and I padded toward the sound with bare feet. I thought maybe I was imagining things, that maybe I had left the TV on or someone was breaking in, but when I turned the corner, I saw them.

Jacob was at the stove, grilling steak. Luther stood by the counter, chopping vegetables with precise, clean movements. The table was already set—plates, cutlery, glasses, even a folded napkin at each seat.

They both looked up when they saw me standing there.

Jacob was the first to speak. “We thought you were at your aunt’s,” he said, like that explained everything. “We didn’t want to disturb you.”

Luther looked guilty, eyes flicking down to his knife and then back to me. “We didn’t know you were in the hospital,” he said, voice low.

I didn’t answer. I just walked in and sat down at the table. I didn’t touch the food.

Jacob frowned and turned off the stove. “You have to eat. You just got discharged.”

I looked at him then. Cold. Clear. “You didn’t check on me for a week.”

The silence that followed was loud enough to split bone. No one moved. No one breathed.

Then the doorbell rang.

Jacob and Luther both turned toward it, and Luther moved first, walking quickly to open the door.

Lavenia stood there.

She was pale and fragile, her wrists wrapped in clean bandages hidden beneath the sleeves of a delicate blouse, and she looked like a porcelain doll that had cracked but hadn’t shattered yet.

The moment they saw her, they moved.

Jacob rushed to her and picked her up like she weighed nothing, carrying her in his arms and laying her gently down on the couch. “You shouldn’t be out,” he whispered, brushing the hair from her face. “What if something happens to you?”

“I was alone in the hospital room,” she said, looking up at Jacob with those wide, doe eyes. “And I kept thinking what if I never woke up again? What if I opened my eyes and no one was there? I panicked. I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

Jacob softened immediately and moved toward her, but she raised a hand weakly.

“If it’s too much, I can go back,” she whispered. “Really. I didn’t mean to be a burden.”

“Hey, hey, no,” Jacob murmured, voice full of worry. “You’re not a burden, okay? You should’ve called sooner. We’ll take care of you.”

Luther hovered behind Jacob and said, “We’ll go back to the hospital after we check on Pearl. Then we’ll stay with you tonight.”

I didn’t speak.

I just picked up my fork and started eating. The steak was dry and overdone and still pink in the center, and I hated every bite. I chewed like it was cardboard, like it was ashes, and I kept eating anyway because I didn’t want them to see me stop.

He made steak.

My least favorite.

They didn’t even remember.

I forced out a laugh—small and bitter and almost invisible—and swallowed it down with a sip of water. Jacob and Luther were setting a place at the table for her now, helping her sit up and encouraging her to eat like she was made of glass. She took their attention like it was her birthright, and every so often she glanced at me with eyes that said you lost.

And then my phone buzzed.

I glanced at it and saw the name: Mom.

She’d sent me over a dozen photos of wedding dresses—lace and silk and heavy beading, dramatic trains and cathedral veils, each more extravagant than the last. I scrolled through them with numb fingers, pausing on the third one—a satin off-the-shoulder gown with a cinched body and cascading ruffles. I tapped the call button before I could change my mind.

She picked up on the third ring, her voice warm and full of anticipation. “Pearl, did you get the dresses? I think the third one would suit you best. But if your fiancé prefers white—”

“I love the third,” I said quickly, and this time I made sure my voice was light, even cheerful. “It’s perfect. I can already picture it. I’m really… excited.”

She paused, maybe surprised by the change in my tone. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad. I knew you'd love it once you really looked. You always liked the more classic silhouettes.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me and forced a small laugh. “Yeah. I think it’ll be beautiful. I’m really looking forward to the WEDDING.”

There was a flicker of movement across the room. I didn’t look up.

“How much longer do you need over there?” she asked.

“Just a week. I’ll finish up and be home.”

“Good. Everything here’s almost ready.”

I hung up and set the phone down on the table, and that’s when I felt it—that silence that isn’t empty, but heavy. Like breath being held.

I looked up.

Jacob and Luther were staring at me. Lavenia had frozen where she sat, a fork suspended halfway to her mouth. Her expression was still soft, still wounded, but her eyes had gone sharp.

Jacob was the first to move. He stepped away from Lavenia and crossed the room in seconds, voice cutting. “Wedding?”

Luther followed close behind, brows furrowed, jaw tight. “What wedding?”