Not Invited to My Son's Wedding

After I retire, my son, Brandon Harrell, begs me to buy him a car and a house. To afford them, I have no choice but to work as a hotel cleaner despite my poor health. One day, a wealthy guest is having a wedding at the hotel. I keep washing dishes despite the pain from my chilblains when I suddenly notice that the groom's photo on the giant screen is Brandon's. I head to the wedding hall, wanting to ask Brandon what is really going on. The moment Brandon sees me, panic fills his eyes. Right in front of everyone, he orders the security guards to throw me out. "I don't know this old woman," Brandon says. "Someone like me could never have a mom who works as a cleaner. She's obviously here for a free meal. Get her out of here immediately." He walks onto the stage, takes the bride's hand, and affectionately calls another elegant, well-dressed woman "Mom". I recognize the woman at once. She is the childhood sweetheart my husband has never been able to forget for all these years. Chapter 1 "The groom's family was really rich. They booked over 500 tables right from the start, and that still wasn't enough. They were even adding more tables." "Exactly. The feast cost three thousand dollars per table, and the seafood was unlimited." "Just a moment ago, the groom ordered over 30 thousand dollars worth of fresh flower petals to make the bride happy, having them scattered into the air. That's literally throwing money around. Not everyone could live like that." Several servers gossiped animatedly nearby, but my blood ran cold as I stared blankly at the photos of the couple scrolling across the LED screen ahead. Wasn't that groom my son, Brandon Harrell? Brandon was getting married, yet I, his own mom, had no idea at all. Seeing me stand there in a daze without speaking, Beatrice Ford nudged my arm from beside me and frowned. "Why are you zoning out? Hurry up and wash the dishes. We won't have enough once the banquet starts. Get moving, or they'll dock your pay." She sighed. "You're already retired at your age. Why don't you stay home and enjoy your monthly pension instead of coming out to do this exhausting, filthy work?" "If you ask me, children should make their own way in life. You shouldn't spoil your son so much. If he wants a house and a car, he should earn the money himself. He shouldn't make you work so hard at your age." Another coworker chimed in, "That's right, Nancy. When you first came here, anyone could tell from your hands that you'd done respectable work before. Look at them now. After washing dishes for two years, they're covered in chilblains. You've really suffered." With my hands soaked in water every single day, chilblains inevitably formed and festered. They would heal, only to split open again after being soaked in water, repeating the same cycle over and over. I forced myself back to my senses, my face pale as I managed a smile, but I couldn't bring myself to wash another dish from the towering pile before me. I quietly headed toward the hall at the front, wanting to get closer for a clearer look. Maybe it was just someone who looked like Brandon. There was no way it could be him. My phone's chat screen still showed the transfer record for the money I had sent Brandon this morning. Brandon had written, "Mom, I'm treating an important friend to dinner today. Transfer me 30 thousand dollars. Also, stay at the staff dorm tonight and don't come home. I'm inviting my friend to stay over." Brandon did have a girlfriend, but he had never mentioned getting married. If he were really getting married, how could he possibly keep it from me? I searched around the banquet hall but didn't spot the groom anywhere. In the end, I walked to a quiet corner, took out my phone, and called Brandon. The line had barely rung before he hung up. I had no choice but to call again, only for him to hang up on me once more. After I stubbornly placed the fifth call, he finally answered. Before I could feel relieved, Brandon's impatient growl came through the phone, "Mom, you're so fucking annoying with these constant calls. If you've got something to say, make it quick. I'm busy!" I gripped my phone tightly, unable to stop myself from asking, "Brandon, where are you? Are you done eating with your friend? "Beatrice, who works with me, passed by a hotel today and saw a display sign featuring a groom who looks exactly like you. She even asked me if you were getting married. I told her there was no way it could be you." Chapter 2 At that moment, I was standing in front of the couple's welcome sign. The more I looked at the groom in the photo, the more he resembled Brandon. The only difference was that the photo filter made him appear slightly different. On the other end of the line, Brandon glanced around the hotel in a panic. "Mom, what nonsense are you talking about? How could I possibly be getting married? I'm having dinner with my friend right now. I'm hanging up." As soon as he hung up, the bride, Angela Lloyd, walked over and looped her arm through his. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Who was calling?" "Who else could it be? My mom. She heard from somewhere that I'm getting married. She's so annoying. She'd better not show up and embarrass me," Brandon replied. Angela frowned. "What? That poor mom of yours couldn't even afford to buy you a house or a car, and now she has the nerve to want to show up at our wedding? "Your dad will be arriving with Ms. Griffin later. You must not let that poor mom of yours come here and upset Ms. Griffin. Tell security to keep an eye out. If she shows up, have her thrown out." Three months ago, Angela had seen me in our neighborhood. I happened to be returning home looking completely disheveled and exhausted after a long day of work, which made me look incredibly old. The harshness in Angela's words about me didn't bother Brandon at all. Instead, he pulled her into his arms and nodded affectionately. "Don't worry. Only Ms. Griffin is worthy of Dad. She is our real mom. "Dad and I kept the wedding a complete secret. Mom has no idea at all. I told her not to come home tonight. I'll go out and tell the security guards to turn Mom away if she actually shows up." He kissed Angela for a moment, then reluctantly pulled away and strode outside. I was just about to head back when I happened to catch sight of Brandon coming out of the changing room. I instantly froze in place. There was no doubt left. The groom was Brandon. Brandon didn't see me at all. He wore a well-tailored suit today, looking exceptionally handsome. He walked past, directing the hotel staff as they set up the venue. He said coldly, "Make sure you clean everything thoroughly. My mom loves cleanliness more than anything. She can't stand even a speck of dust." Hearing his words, mixed emotions welled up within me. It turned out that Brandon hadn't told me about today's wedding because he wanted to surprise me. He even remembered how much I loved cleanliness. I had never told Brandon that I worked as a cleaner at this hotel because I didn't want him to worry or feel bad for me. He probably still believed that I had an easy and respectable job. Overwhelmed with emotion, I was about to step forward, but then I saw Brandon suddenly rush toward the entrance after spotting someone, overjoyed. "Dad, Mom, you're here. We've been waiting for you," he said. Chapter 3 Hearing the word "Mom" made me freeze in my tracks. I turned around and saw my well-dressed husband, Jeremy Moran, walking in arm-in-arm with an elegant, beautiful woman. They looked like the perfect couple as they smiled and waved at the guests around them. "Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to attend Brandon's wedding. Thank you so much," Jeremy said. "Mom, you look so beautiful today. If you stood next to Angela, everyone would think you were sisters." Brandon walked over with a bright smile and warmly called the middle-aged woman "Mom" over and over again. He had never acted that obediently or affectionate in front of me. I recognized the woman as Emma Griffin. She had grown up with Jeremy and had also been his first love. Years ago, she had left Jeremy and moved overseas to build her career. She had become very successful, and I had heard that she now owned a company and was extremely wealthy. Many people had directly or indirectly suggested that Jeremy had married the wrong woman, saying he would have been rich long ago if he had married Emma instead. The three of them looked so close that they truly seemed like a real family. Just then, Angela walked out in her wedding dress. Brandon took her hand, and the two of them bowed deeply to Emma in front of all the guests. "Mom, you've worked so hard all these years. Angela and I will take good care of you from now on." Emma wiped the tears from her eyes, while Jeremy, standing beside her, gently brushed the tears from her face with a helpless yet doting look. "Come on. Why are you crying? This is such a happy occasion," he said. The guests around us all smiled warmly. I even heard many of them praising how beautiful and youthful the groom's mother looked, which made my throat tighten. At that moment, the wedding emcee stepped forward and said with a smile, "The groom really wasn't exaggerating. His mom really is beautiful and young. No wonder he kept talking about how amazing she is." I couldn't listen any longer and rushed out in anger. I shouted furiously, "Who said both sets of parents were here? My son is getting married. How could I, his own mom, know nothing about it?" My sudden outburst interrupted the ceremony. Everyone turned to stare at me in shock. The hotel's bright lights shone down on me. I was still wearing the standard hotel cleaning uniform, and I hadn't even had time to take off my dishwashing gloves. I looked worn out and old, standing in sharp contrast to the glamorous Emma. The guests all looked at me with displeasure and began complaining. "Who is she? Why would she have so little tact as to come barging in like this? She is just like those terrible people online who deliberately ruin weddings." "I'm definitely filing a complaint with hotel management later. A cleaner with this little sense needs to be fired." "Did you hear what she just said? She said she's the groom's mom. What's going on here? Didn't the groom's mom already arrive?" Up on the stage, Brandon's expression changed drastically the instant he saw me. Angela, standing beside him, was the first to react. She shouted angrily, "Who let you, a cleaner, in here? How dare you shamelessly claim you're my husband's mom? Take a look at my husband, then look at yourself. How dare someone as poor and wretched as you come here to scam us? "Where's security? Is this the kind of service your hotel provides? Get this old woman out of here right now. Don't let her disrupt the wedding." The two security guards knew me. Sweating profusely, they immediately rushed over to drag me away. Shocked, I shouted angrily at Brandon on the stage, "Brandon Harrell, are you really going to stand there and watch them drag me away? You ungrateful son! You didn't even tell me you were getting married!" One of the guards said in a low voice, "Nancy, what are you causing a scene for? How could the groom possibly be your son? Do you know his mom spent several million dollars on this wedding? If he were really your son, why would you still be working here as a cleaner?" Emma must have been the one who paid for everything. I felt both furious and heartbroken. So Brandon had abandoned his own mother for money. Brandon was the only child I ever had. Ever since he was little, I had done my best to give him whatever he wanted, as long as it was within my means. Jeremy had never been responsible for or taken care of Brandon. I had raised Brandon by myself. I had even ignored everyone's objections and given him my last name. I had already retired, but Brandon told me that he still wanted to buy a car and a house. "Mom, everyone else has parents backing them up. You can't just leave me to fend for myself. "You're not even 60 years old yet. You can't just give up and rest now. Work a few more years and at least help me buy a house and a car." Because of what he said, I quietly put away my latest medical report, endured my health problems, and went looking for grueling, backbreaking work to keep earning money. Chapter 4 Up on the stage, Brandon didn't dare look me in the eye. A flash of guilt crossed his face. He turned his head away and said coldly, "I don't know you. Someone like me would never have a mom who works as a cleaner. Both my mom and dad are already here. "Security, get her out of here right now. People like her have no class. She's just here for free food." Brandon's words shattered my heart. I turned around to look for Jeremy, but he had his arm wrapped intimately around Emma. Jeremy met my gaze, frowned, and gave me a warning look. Before I could say a word, he beat me to it and said loudly, "What? Are you trying to claim a connection with me again and say you're my wife?" He sneered. "Look at yourself. You're just a plain, washed-up woman. And you still think you can seduce me? My gorgeous wife is right here by my side. Look at you. You can't even compare to a single strand of her hair. "Get out of here right now. Stop embarrassing yourself. If you want a free meal, we'll give you some leftovers meant for the dogs after we're done eating." Emma had clearly recognized me. She looked down at me, sizing me up critically, her eyes gleaming with triumph. She was dressed in luxury brands from head to toe and didn't even bother to speak to me. She was now a successful entrepreneur back from abroad, looking barely 38 years old thanks to how well she had taken care of herself and how elegantly she dressed. Meanwhile, I had spent my entire life working ordinary jobs and had washed dishes at this hotel for more than two years. The hardship had aged me so much that we looked as if we belonged to two entirely different generations. Seeing that I still refused to leave, one of Brandon's close friends couldn't hold back and stood up. He reached out, grabbed a piece of bread off the table, and hurled it at me. He said, "Why haven't you gotten lost yet? You're this old and still have no manners. You just came to swindle a free meal, didn't you? Are you really that desperate for a meal? "I've seen plenty of people like you online, showing up out of nowhere for free food without even bringing a wedding gift. If you don't leave, we'll call the cops. Aren't you ashamed of embarrassing your family?" My past job had been perfectly respectable. When I finally retired, all my coworkers sent me off with flowers, and I retired with dignity and pride. I had never been so disheveled and humiliated in my entire life. The security guards didn't believe the ridiculous claim that I was the groom's biological mom. Fearing they would face complaints if this dragged on any longer, they stopped holding back. They gripped my arms so hard that they ached. My hair came loose and fell into disarray. They forcefully dragged me toward the main exit. I cried out, "No! I really am Brandon's biological mother! Jeremy, Brandon, the two of you are ungrateful and heartless—" Some guests nearby even pulled out their phones and started live-streaming me. They seemed to think the shots weren't clear enough from a distance, so they shamelessly ran to within a few steps of me and shoved their cameras in my face. "Everyone, take a look. I've really seen it all today. I actually ran into the kind of old woman who takes advantage of her age to deliberately ruin a wedding and get free food and drinks." "Does anyone watching the live stream know this old woman? Hurry up and take her home so she stops making a fool of herself." The two guards hauled me up and threw me out of the hotel in front of everyone watching. The freezing wind and snow hit my body. Wearing only my thin work uniform, I shivered uncontrollably from the cold. I had truly raised an ungrateful son. Not only did he refuse to acknowledge me as his mom, but he even called his dad's mistress "Mom" over and over again. I closed my eyes for a moment, took out my phone, and called the hotel's general manager, Calvin Finch. With red-rimmed eyes, I said in a hoarse voice, "Hello, Mr. Finch. Could you do me a favor? In a little while, please help me play some photos and videos on the big screen behind the couple."