I Stormed Out of My Dad’s Wedding After What He Did to Me in Front of Everyone

Before he delivered the words that crushed my heart, my dad’s speech at his wedding was filled with love and happiness. I was having trouble breathing. So I left, ruining the idyllic day and revealing a secret my mother had concealed from me for years.

Seven years. It had been that long since my parents’ divorce, and to be honest, I was still not entirely sure why.

The only adoptive kid is me. My parents’ biological children are my brother and sister. Jessica has Mom’s nose and Tommy has Dad’s crooked smile. However, it never made me feel excluded.

When I questioned Mom about the divorce, she always remained evasive. She would shift the topic after flashing that tight smile that never made it to her eyes.

Dad? He remained resentful of the entire situation, as if he had been personally victimized and was unable to move on.

However, I did recall one altercation.

As they screamed at one another in the kitchen, I was perhaps nine years old and hiding at the top of the stairs. Everything else was drowned out by Mom’s voice: “You’re a jerk who doesn’t deserve his kids.”

I didn’t really grasp what that meant, so I put it in the back of my mind. Children don’t, do they? We simply smooth down the jagged edges of our parents’ remarks and hope they make sense in the future.

If it makes sense, everything seemed too ideal when my father recently got married again.

There were flowers all around, everything was cream and gold, and everyone was laughing and chatting in that amiable but shallow way. It was the kind of perfection that gives you anxiety because you know that something will blow it up.

I ought to have trusted that intuition.

When Dad got up, I was standing there with my younger brother and sister, trying to look normal and happy.

He was grinning broadly, a smile I hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps at some point. The room fell silent as he lifted his glass of champagne.

He started, “I’m so blessed,” and his voice was so warm that it made my chest tight.

He gazed at his new bride as if she had personally hung the stars and moon for him.

“Sarah has made my life so much more joyful. I can’t believe I get to call her my wife; she is a fantastic woman and an amazing mother.”

Those gentle “aww” noises that spectators make at weddings filled the room. My siblings were shifting beside me, and I wondered if they were experiencing the same strange feelings as I was.

Dad then looked at Sarah’s two young daughters, who were dressed in similar pink outfits and may have been six and eight years old.

His entire face became radiant.

His voice seemed to warm up even more as he said, “And to Emma and Sophie,” “I can’t wait to be your dad for real.” I already adore you all, and you are very wonderful.”

The younger girl, Emma, genuinely clapped her hands as the other girls giggled.

It was sweet and adorable. It was just the right thing for a stepfather to say to his new girls.

I prepared for my turn. For him to turn to face us and say something just as kind about his real children.

“I want to thank all the kids who made this day so special,” Dad said.

“Tommy and Jessica—” He gave my sister and brother a smile. “Throughout everything, you have shown such understanding. You’ve handled everything with such maturity, even though I know it hasn’t been easy.”

He then faced me.

“Stephanie, as for you…” Subtly, his smile changed to one that was more predatory. His tone became piercing.

“I just hope you’ll be out of my life soon and won’t ruin this marriage like you ruined the last one.”

The statements took me by surprise and left me speechless. It seemed like if my chest had collapsed. After a little period of silence, he continued as if he hadn’t just gutted me in front of everyone.

Tears were burning behind my eyes. I was having trouble breathing. The crowd of people acting as like they hadn’t observed what had just transpired made the room feel too crowded, too hot, and too small.

I pushed my chair back. Dad’s microphone was not as loud as the scrape of it against the floor.

Everyone’s heads turned to face me.

I was unable to look at him. I didn’t want him to witness my impending dissolution in front of his ideal new family.

I left.

I became aware that I had been holding my breath as the cool air from outdoors hit my face. I had trembling hands.

“Hey.” Beside me, my brother Tommy showed up with a pallid face. “You okay?”

Half of Dad’s family rushed out after us before I could respond. Uncle Mark, Aunt Linda, and a few cousins I hardly knew. They spoke in harsh, accusatory tones.

“Why’d you make a scene like that?” Aunt Linda lost her temper. “It’s your father’s wedding day.”

“I made a scene?” With a smaller voice than I would have liked, I asked. “Did you not hear what he just said to me?”

Uncle Mark remarked, “It was obviously a joke,” “You’re being too sensitive.”

Tommy took a step forward. “No, it wasn’t. He was heard by you. He—”

“Go back inside, Tommy,” interrupted Aunt Linda. “Remember to celebrate. Don’t exacerbate this.

Tommy gave me a sorry look, but he left. He did, of course. He was fourteen years old. What should he have done?

They looked at me. “You should come back inside, too.”

“I’m heading home,” I declared. “With Mom.”

They all exchanged glances as if I were being absurd.

“You’re being dramatic!” Linda shouted.

Perhaps I was. Dramatic or not, I was aware of what I had heard. After that, I knew I couldn’t watch him play happy family with the others for another minute.

I took out my phone and gave Mom a call.

I begged, “Please come get me,” when she responded. “Don’t ask questions, I just… I need you.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She was. Her car arrived at the curb twenty minutes later, and I climbed in without turning to face the reception area.

Mom drove home without asking any questions. She simply let me gaze out the window while she turned up the radio.

The world felt safer when we arrived at the house, where she prepared a grilled cheese sandwich for me and turned on an old comedy film that we had watched together when I was younger.

That night, I broke. While Mom held me and made no attempt to remedy anything, I just fell apart on the couch. She simply let me cry until I was completely spent.

I told her the complete thing a few days later, when I was able to discuss it without losing my cool.

“Why would he say that, Mom?” I inquired. “Is it accurate? Did you and Dad get divorced because of me?

Mom remained silent for a while. She sighed after that, and I could see she was debating whether or not to tell me.

“Honey,” she finally concluded, “you should be aware of this.” Your father’s desire to relinquish custody of you following the birth of Tommy and Jessica was a major factor in our divorce.

I was hit hard by the words.

“What?” I gazed at her. However, he battled for our collective custody. He brought you before the court.

“He did.” She gave a nod. And I wondered if he truly cared about you when he brought you into the custody dispute. Perhaps he had reconsidered.

I had the feeling that I would get sick. “He probably only fought for me to avoid paying you child support.”

That didn’t bother Mom. She didn’t have to. I was probably right, and we both knew it.

Her words were, “I’m sorry,” “I ought to have informed you earlier. All I could hope for was… I hoped he would take charge and be the father you were due.

Three weeks have passed since the wedding. Dad didn’t call. He hasn’t sent any texts. Tommy claims that Dad never inquires about me, and my brothers still spend every other weekend at his house. Not once.

But I keep getting texts from his family. I’m angry that I “ruined” his special day. Me being “selfish” and “dramatic.” How I should tell my dad I’m sorry.

A part of me questions whether they’re correct, but the majority of me is aware of this.

Walking away silently is about the least you can do when your own father, in front of a room full of people, says you destroyed his marriage and that he can’t wait for you to be gone.

What was the alternative, after all?

Sit there grinning as he made it obvious that I wasn’t welcome? Act as though it wasn’t painful.

No. I’ve finished that. I’ve had enough of justifying someone who has made it plain that he no longer wants to be my father.

In actuality, he most likely never did. And what do you know? That says nothing about me, but it says everything about him.

I’m beginning to realize that at last.

A wedding speech was all it took to figure it out.