Hey. Uh. Can we talk later?
I stared at the message, my heartbeat drumming in my ears. That was a no. Not a mistake. Not an oversight. A deliberate choice.
I wasn’t the kind of guy to start drama over wedding guest lists, but this? This wasn’t just any wedding. This was my best friend’s wedding.
“Dude, what’s going on? Why wasn’t Julia invited?”
Silence.
Then, he exhaled, like he’d been dreading this. “It’s complicated, man.”
I called him.
“Hey, what’s up?” Bobby answered, sounding too casual.
“Try me.”
Another pause. Then, in a lower voice, he said, “Claire’s parents. They’re… old school.”
My stomach dropped. “Old school?”
“They wouldn’t be comfortable with you and Julia there together.”
For a second, I thought I misheard him. I actually blinked at my phone, waiting for the punchline. “What?”
“They’re traditional, okay? Their whole family is. They have a certain… expectation about marriage and relationships, and they wouldn’t want—”
I cut him off. “Are you serious right now?”
“I know it sounds bad.”
“It is bad.”
“They’re paying for everything,” he continued quickly, like that justified it. “They have a huge say in the guest list, and Claire and I had to make some compromises. It’s not personal, man.”
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