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.

"So Uncle even prepared a speech?" Mariz unfolded the paper with a smile. She had barely read the first sentence before she burst into laughter.

"Today... I am entrusting my most precious daughter to Derrick..."

She looked up at Derrick, amused. "Isn't this a little too old-fashioned? Who even says things like this at weddings anymore?"

Several staff members nearby chuckled along with her.

My father's face flushed a deep red. He reached out, hoping to take the paper back.

"My French isn't very good. And... I'm not good with words. So... I just won't say it."

But Mariz ignored the embarrassment written all over his face. Instead, she flipped to the next page.

When she noticed the annotations my father had carefully written above difficult words, she laughed again.

"Uncle, were you worried you'd mispronounce the words?"

"You really don't have to be this nervous. Honestly, no one actually wants to hear a speech like this."

The surrounding staff laughed even harder.

My father's face burned crimson.

At last, Derrick spoke, but not to defend my father. Instead, he nodded in agreement.

"Mariz has a point. "This speech really doesn't fit the style of today's wedding."

"Uncle, let's just cancel the speech."

My father tightened his grip on the paper. His lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to say something. But in the end, he only smiled faintly.

"Alright. We'll do whatever you think is best."

I watched him carefully fold the speech back into neat quarters before slipping it into the wrinkled pocket of his wine-stained suit.

His movements were painfully slow. As if, together with that speech, he was quietly folding away the last shred of his dignity.

He had spent half a month preparing those few pages.

I still remembered coming home one afternoon and finding him sitting alone in the living room, recording himself on his phone.

Whenever he stumbled over a sentence, he would delete the recording and start all over again.

He smiled sheepishly and said, "Donna... your dad isn't educated."

"But when you get married, I have to do this properly. I can't let anyone think your family has no one standing behind you."

Back then, I had laughed at how nervous he was.

"Dad," I told him, "just being there is enough."

But today, he wasn't even given the chance to stand on that stage.

...

Mariz handed the ceremony schedule back to the emcee.

"I'll give the speech instead. I know Derrick well, and I'm familiar with how everything will flow."

She turned to my parents with a gentle smile and continued, "Since Uncle and Auntie aren't comfortable speaking in front of everyone..."

"I'll offer my blessings on your behalf. It'll be the same."

My mother lowered her head while my father didn't object.

Perhaps they had already grown accustomed to it.

As long as it was for my sake, they were willing to endure anything.

At that moment, the emcee walked over. "Miss Newman, please get ready. You're up next."

Mariz smoothed the wrinkles from her dress and walked past me.

She paused beside me, lowering her voice. "Don't let Uncle and Auntie feel too bad, Donna."

"Since they can't go onstage, I'll say a few blessings for them. At least that will help save the situation."

When she finished speaking, a flicker of triumph flashed across her eyes.

I didn't even look at her. Instead, I lowered my gaze to my phone.

A message from the wedding planner had just arrived.

[Everything is ready. Should we play it now?]

I slowly lifted my head.

At the end of the red carpet, Mariz had already accepted the microphone.

Derrick stood below the stage, watching her with eyes full of warmth and indulgence.

Meanwhile, my parents sat alone in the darkest corner of the banquet hall.

One held the speech he had never been allowed to deliver. The other clutched the oversized black hotel uniform that didn't even fit her.

I slowly typed a single word. [Play.]

The next second, the massive LED screen behind the stage lit up.

What appeared on it made every single guest in the banquet hall gasp in shock.