The night before the wedding, I chose a chocolate-peanut butter flavor as a tribute to our childhood. It was my silent gift to Noah. But on the morning of the big day, everything unraveled. My mother arrived in the kitchen to tell me I wasn’t invited. Vanessa’s mother was enforcing the guest list, and I wasn’t on it.

Shocked and humiliated, I walked out quietly. At the venue, my mom confronted Noah, who was equally blindsided. When he questioned Vanessa, she coldly dismissed my role as just “help.” Her reason? No divorcees at the wedding—she believed they brought bad luck.

Noah saw the truth. Without a word to guests, he picked up the wedding cake and left. Hours later, he appeared at my door, still in his suit, holding the cake I made. We sat on