RSVP to My Wedding... and Bring My Husband Chapter 1

During a video call with shareholders, my long-dormant high school group chat suddenly blew up. Someone kept tagging me:

"Audrey Vance! Lana's getting married today—why aren't you there?"

Scrolling through the messages, I realized it was Lana Hayes, our former queen bee. Our entire class had gathered for her wedding.

"Sorry, my company's been swamped," I replied professionally.

The group instantly attacked:

"Too busy? You never post online—must be failing!"

"Just admit you’re embarrassed!"

Lana tagged me: "Remember our bet? That my husband would outshine yours?"

"I don’t recall," I answered honestly.

The others mocked:

"Lana’s husband is a Fortune 500 CEO! He sent 100 luxury cars to her hometown!"

"Too ashamed to compare? Or too broke to afford a gift?"

Lana then posted a wedding photo—and my blood ran cold.

Her groom was Brandon Hayes.

My husband.

"I’ll be there," I typed, my fingers steady. "Wouldn’t miss your ‘happy moment’ for the world."

* * *

No sooner had I replied to Lana than I received a text from Brandon: "Wife, I'm going back to my hometown to see my parents today. I've already made your food and put it in the fridge. Just heat it up when you're ready to eat." It ended with: "Darling, I'll love you forever."

Brandon had been my husband for three years, a man who had moved into my home with nothing to his name. He always took care of my every need, anticipating everything. Even when he left, he never forgot to prepare for my daily necessities. I used to be touched by these thoughtful gestures. But now, they only struck me as laughable.

I abruptly ended my video conference and, following the wedding location Lana had shared in the group, drove toward her hometown. From a distance, I could see a colossal red banner hanging above Lana's family home: "A Warm Welcome to Mr. Brandon Hayes, CEO of Evergreen Group, for the Wedding Procession!"

Beneath the banner, Lana stood in a pristine, custom-designed wedding gown, eagerly awaiting her groom. Around her clustered our old high school classmates.

"Lana, you kept this so quiet! To think your man is the CEO of the Evergreen Group, and you only let us know on your wedding day!"

"Seriously! Mr. Hayes is a renowned entrepreneur. You're so clever, Lana, to marry such an outstanding, high-caliber man!"

"Lana, you're about to become a wealthy socialite. Don't forget us old classmates when you're rich and famous!"

Even our old high school teacher fawned over Lana: "Lana, the moment I first saw you, I knew you'd achieve great things. That's why I never scolded you, even when your grades weren't great. I knew you were destined for wealth, you didn't need grades to speak for you!"

Amidst the chorus of praise, Lana’s lips curved into a triumphant smile, her eyes gleaming with pride and satisfaction. Brandon, who had moved into my home years ago, had always seemed somewhat idle. To give him purpose and experience, I had entrusted him with the management of Evergreen Group, my smallest company. It never occurred to me that this would become the very source of Lana's inflated ego.

As I arrived, the classmates, who had been so eager to flatter, instantly frowned, their gazes filled with disdain. One of Lana's closest sidekicks, spotting the car behind me, immediately rushed over, sneering: "Audrey Vance, you are so vain! You actually rented a Bentley just to come to Lana's wedding and put on airs?"

Hearing this, others joined in, their voices dripping with contempt: "No wonder she dared to show up. So, she just wanted to show off? That car rental must cost at least three months of your salary!"

"Some people just love to live beyond their means. No matter how much you pretend to be rich, can you really be richer than Lana's husband?!"

"Exactly! Is it so hard to admit someone's better than you? Why go to all the trouble of renting a car just to show off your petty jealousy?"

Facing their denigration, my expression remained unchanged. "This is my car."

No sooner had the words left my lips than Lana suddenly walked up to me. She lashed out, a stinging slap across my face.

"Your car? This is clearly my husband's car! I've suspected for a while that my husband was keeping a mistress, and I can't believe it's you, you cheap tramp! You shameless wretch, how dare you drive my husband's car to my wedding to provoke me, his rightful wife?"