But I didn’t cry.
I looked at him. And I smiled. I saw him tense—this wasn’t part of his plan.
Silence fell over the hall. Relatives went pale. Someone covered their mouth. Someone dropped a glass. The groom started talking—making excuses, smiling, pretending it was all a joke.
But it was already too late.
I handed back the microphone, turned around, and walked away—in a white dress, without a husband, but with my dignity intact.
And in that moment, I understood something important:
the best thing that can happen at a wedding is canceling it in time.