"I was afraid I'd look too shabby and embarrass you." My mother sighed.

One corner of her shawl had been soaked in red wine. Even so, she carefully dabbed at the stain with a tissue.

When she realized it wouldn't come clean, she quietly folded the stained corner inward, hiding it from view.

My father reached into his jacket and pulled out a red envelope.

The wine had soaked through it, leaving it wrinkled and limp. He spent a long moment gently smoothing it with his fingers before speaking in a quiet voice.

"This is the gift your mother and I prepared for your tea ceremony."

"We wanted to present it properly to our son-in-law."

"But... it ended up like this."

He forced an embarrassed smile.

"Sweetheart... I hope you won't mind."

My tears hit the floor before I even realized I was crying.

They had spent months preparing for this wedding.

They worried they wouldn't be dressed well enough.

They worried they might overlook some wedding etiquette.

Most of all, they worried I'd lose face in front of the Larson family.

And what had Derrick given them in return?

Wine and whipped cream splattered all over them. The laughter of an entire banquet hall. And a cramped storage room filled with cleaning supplies!

Just then, my phone buzzed and a message from Derrick popped up.

[Come out once you've cleaned up. Mariz was only joking with your parents. Don't overreact. It's just a small misunderstanding.]

I stared at those words, then, unexpectedly, I laughed.

So this was something that could simply be brushed aside.

To him, my parents' humiliation, the blood dripping from my father's hand, my mother's ruined dress... They were all just small matters that could be forgotten with a few casual words.

I wiped away my tears and helped my parents sit down.

"Dad. Mom. Wait here for me."

Then I turned and walked out of the storage room.

At the end of the hallway, the wedding planner was anxiously waiting.

"Ms. Donna, are we still following the schedule?"

I looked toward the dazzling lights spilling from the banquet hall.

At the end of the red carpet, Derrick was gently comforting Mariz, speaking to her in a soft voice.

I looked away as I answered, "Yes. We'll continue."

The planner visibly relaxed.

Then I calmly added, "But we're changing the program. We're skipping the tea ceremony."

"The next item... will be the cancellation of the engagement."

-

When I returned to the storage room, my father was sitting beside a stack of cardboard boxes. The cut on his knee was still bleeding.

The moment he saw me, he immediately tried to stand.

"Donna... are they rushing us outside? Your mother and I will be ready in a minute."

I gently pressed him back down. "Don't move."

My mother looked up at me. Her eyes were swollen and red, yet she still managed a smile. "Don't worry. This dress can still be worn after I clean it."

She glanced at the wine stain spreading across the hem before hurriedly hiding the damaged side behind her back.

"When I go onstage later, I'll stand farther away. Don't worry. The cameras won't catch it."

My throat tightened. Even now... All they could think about was how not to embarrass me.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the doorway.

Derrick stood outside the storage room, frowning at the mess inside. "You're still not done? The auspicious hour is almost here."

"If Uncle and Auntie aren't in any condition... then maybe they shouldn't go onstage."

He paused, sounding as though he were making a reasonable suggestion. "And... Auntie doesn't look very presentable for the cameras."

The smile on my mother's face froze. For a split second, she instinctively looked down at her torn and stained dress.

It was as if she had only just realized how miserable she looked.

My father hurried to agree. "Y-Yes, that's fine. We don't have to go onstage. As long as your wedding goes smoothly."

I looked at Derrick. The man standing before me suddenly felt like a complete stranger.

Once, he had promised that after we got married, he would honor my parents as if they were his own.

But now, after they had been humiliated and injured, the only thing he cared about was whether they would look good on camera.

A moment later, Mariz arrived as well.

Mariz walked in carrying a neatly folded set of clothes. Her eyes were still red, as though she had been crying.

"Auntie, I found you something clean to change into. Why don't you put this on first?" Her voice was gentle, almost thoughtful.

But the moment the outfit was unfolded, the color drained from my mother's face.

It was a plain black skirt suit from the hotel's spare uniform supply.

The fabric was stiff and worn, the skirt still creased from being folded away. Pinned to the chest was an employee name tag that hadn't even been removed.

As if she hadn't noticed, Mariz smiled softly. "Just make do with it for now, Auntie. Besides, everyone will be taking pictures of the bride and groom. No one will see you clearly anyway."

My mother held the uniform in both hands, her fingers tightening around the fabric.

The dress she had worn today... She had bought it two months in advance.

To save enough money for it, she had gone an entire month without buying herself any fresh groceries.

Every evening, she would stand in front of the mirror trying it on.

Then she'd ask me with a shy smile, "Donna... do I look too flashy in this? Do you think I'll seem less respectable than your future in-laws from the city?"

Back then, I had laughed and hugged her. "Mom, you're the prettiest woman there'll be."

Her eyes had curved into happy crescents.

But now, holding an old hotel staff uniform, she lowered her head and quietly said, "It's alright. As long as I have something to wear."

My eyes suddenly burned with tears.

Meanwhile, Derrick looked as though a weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

"Mariz really thought of everything." Then he turned to me. "And stop looking so upset, Donna. You scared Mariz so badly earlier that she cried."

"When we go back out, apologize to her in front of everyone."

Mariz pursed her lips and softly protested, "Derrick, don't force Sister Donna. I know she doesn't like me. I just wanted to help make your wedding perfect."

Derrick's expression immediately softened. "I know. Don't feel bad."

Standing off to the side, I suddenly found myself too exhausted even to sneer.

My mother lowered her head without saying a word. But I saw her tears fall silently onto the black uniform.

The stiff fabric absorbed them instantly, leaving no trace behind.

At that moment, an overwhelming calm settled over me. It turned out that from the very beginning, my parents had never been treated as honored guests at this wedding.

They had never been respected at all.

I took out my phone and sent a message to the wedding planner.

[Don't wait for the original schedule. When the ceremony starts, play what I gave you.]

The reply came almost immediately.

[Are you sure?]

I looked at Derrick, who was still lowering his head to comfort Mariz. Then I looked at my parents, desperately holding back their tears.

Slowly, I typed two words. [I'm sure.]

-

When I returned to the banquet hall, Mariz was sitting in the bridal lounge. Her eyes were still red as she cradled a cup of warm water in both hands.

Derrick stood in front of her, bending slightly as he gently wiped away her tears with a tissue. "Mariz... don't cry. None of this was your fault."

A first-aid kit sat on the nearby table.

My father's palm was still embedded with tiny shards of porcelain. The wound on his knee hadn't even stopped bleeding.

Yet from beginning to end, no one had thought to carry that first-aid kit into the storage room.

Mariz had shed only a few tears, and Derrick treated it as though she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world.

Watching them from a distance, I suddenly remembered something from years ago.

It was the night of the company's annual gala.

I had been burning with a high fever, waiting outside the hotel entrance for Derrick to pick me up. He had promised he'd come as soon as the meeting ended.

I waited until well past midnight. In the end, all I received was a single message.

[Mariz had too much to drink. She just joined the company. It's not safe for a young woman to go home alone, so I'm taking her back first.]

That night, my fever was so high I could barely remain standing.

Yet all I replied was, [Okay. Drive safely.]

Later that night, I took a taxi home by myself.

The driver noticed how pale I was and asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, but I just shook my head.

Back then, I still believed that Mariz was new to the company, with no one to look after her.

I thought it was only natural for Derrick to take a little extra care of her.

Now, looking back, it wasn't that he wasn't capable of being thoughtful. His kindness had simply never been reserved for me or for my family.

-

As I walked back into the hall, Derrick looked up at me.

"Are your parents finished?" His gaze shifted past me, and he frowned slightly. "Why haven't they changed yet?"

My mother was wearing the black hotel uniform over her torn dress, standing stiffly as though she didn't know where to put her hands.

My father stood beside her, supporting her with one arm. His wounded palm was wrapped haphazardly in tissues that had already turned crimson with blood.

Derrick acted as though he didn't notice. Instead, he turned to a staff member.

"Move Uncle and Auntie's seats farther back. It's not appropriate for them to sit at the head table anymore."

The color drained from my mother's face.

Before she could say anything, my father nodded repeatedly. "Of course. We're fine sitting anywhere."

A staff member hurried over with an updated seating chart.

My parents were moved to the very last table in the corner of the banquet hall. Beside them were stacks of spare chairs and tangled audio cables.

Every guest who passed had to frown and step around them. As though they weren't the bride's parents. As though they were nothing more than an inconvenience that had been shoved into a forgotten corner.

I looked at the seating chart and quietly asked, "Why were their seats changed?"

Derrick frowned as though the answer was obvious.

"Look at the state of their clothes. If they stay at the head table, they'll end up in the photos."

"The media is here today. I'm thinking about everyone."

Thinking about everyone.

Everyone... Except my parents.

My father quickly grabbed my arm. "Donna, the corner is fine. It's quieter there."

My mother forced a smile as well. "That's right. This way we won't accidentally ruin your wedding photos."

My chest tightened painfully. She hadn't done a single thing wrong. Yet she had already learned to make herself invisible.

Hearing those words, it reminded me of last winter.

When my mother was hospitalized for a minor surgery, I called Derrick and asked if he could come to the hospital with me.

He said he had an important meeting and couldn't leave the office. So I handled everything alone.

Running from counter to counter, paying the bills, picking up medication, and signing every consent form.

By the time I got home that evening, painful blisters had formed on both of my feet.

The next day, I saw a photo on Mariz's social media.

In the hospital corridor, Derrick was sitting beside her, and a cup of hot soy milk rested in his hand.

The caption read: [Someone was worried I'd be scared of getting my wisdom tooth pulled, so he insisted on staying with me until it was over.]

When I confronted him about it, he answered without the slightest hesitation. "Mariz has no family in this city. Your mother had you."

I had stayed silent for a long time after hearing that. In the end, I convinced myself that he was simply too soft-hearted.

But now I finally understood. He wasn't soft-hearted. He had simply decided that Mariz's tears mattered more than mine, and more than my family's.

...

The emcee approached Derrick with the ceremony schedule for a final confirmation.

When my father spotted his own name on the program, he seemed to remember something.

He hurriedly reached into the inside pocket of his suit and carefully pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

It had been creased with painstaking care. But one corner had been stained and blurred by the red wine from earlier.

"I... prepared a speech." He smiled awkwardly. "If it's still needed... I can say just a few words."

His voice grew quieter with every sentence. As though even he knew that someone like him no longer belonged on the stage.

Just then, Mariz reached over and took the speech from his hands.