My Twin Stole My Wedding

On the morning of my wedding, the stylist mistook my identical twin brother for me. Caleb didn’t correct her. He just slipped right into my tuxedo. As I opened my mouth to tell him to change back, my fiancée, Chloe, shoved a groomsman suit into my hands with a light laugh: "Come on, Ashton. You two look identical anyway. Let Caleb have his moment of fun. You can swap back into the tux right before taking the vows." Mom and Dad pulled me aside too. "You’re the older brother, Ashton. You should always let your younger brother have his way." A lump formed in my throat, choking out any words I had. For years, whenever Caleb wanted something, I was forced to give it up. When we were kids, my parents forced me to give him the sweetest tips of the strawberries, leaving me with the sour, leafy stems. After I met Chloe, she expected the same thing. I even had to wear whatever gifts Caleb didn't want. But I was only older than him by sixty seconds. It was only right before walking down the aisle that I finally got my tuxedo back and stood as the groom. Chloe recited her vows: "In sickness and in health, I promise to take care of you..." Caleb suddenly shouted from the front row, "And me! Chloe, you have to promise to take care of me and Ashton!" The crowd burst into laughter. Instead of shutting it down, Chloe smiled warmly and went along with it. "Of course. I’ll take care of you too, Caleb. I’ll always spoil you!" I was the only person in the room who couldn't force a smile. Once Chloe finished, the officiant held the microphone up to my face: "And do you, Ashton, take Chloe to be your lawfully wedded wife?" A heavy silence hung between us. Finally, my voice dropped, cold and clear: "I don't." I'm done giving up everything for him. The officiant froze, his smile faltering before he quickly tried to smooth things over. "Well, folks! Looks like the groom is so overwhelmed with joy he’s lost his words! Let's try that one more time." "Ashton, do you take Chloe to be your—" Before he could finish, I cut him off, louder and harsher. "I said, I don't!" I stepped off the altar and walked straight toward the dressing room. Chloe rushed after me, grabbing my wrist in the hallway. "Ashton! What is wrong with you? Can't we talk this out like adults? Did you really have to humiliate me in front of everyone at our wedding?" I turned around to face her. "Oh, so you do realize this is a wedding?" "Are wedding vows something you just rewrite on a whim? Are vows meant to be promised to someone else?" Chloe frowned, looking at me as if I were overreacting. "He's your twin brother, Ashton! It's not like he's a stranger. What's the big deal?" "You're older. Just let it slide." Let it slide. Give it up. Yield. Always those words. Ever since we were children, if Caleb wanted it, I was expected to surrender it. But why? Just because I was born one minute earlier, did I have to spend the rest of my life swallowing my pride for him? My eyes stung with hot tears. I yanked my arm from Chloe's grip and marched into the dressing room. Chloe sighed behind me, sounding tired and exasperated. She didn't follow. I knew where she was going. Back to my parents and Caleb to figure out how to "fix" me. Just like my birthday party last week. It was supposed to be my day. Yet my birthday gift was an outdated, cheap bracelet that Caleb had rejected. Later, when Caleb decided he fancied it after all, he took it right off my wrist. I had nothing left. But the second I dared to say "no," Chloe and my parents would tag-team me: He’s your younger brother, what’s wrong with letting him have it? Twenty-seven years. I was utterly sick of hearing it. I was done. While I was peeling off the suit jacket and staring at myself in the vanity mirror, the dressing room door was kicked open. Caleb leaned against the frame, complaining casually: "Ashton, are you throwing another tantrum at Chloe?" Without turning around, I stared at his reflection in the mirror. "Knock before entering. Get out." Caleb gave a mock chuckle and waved a dismissive hand. "It’s just a door, Ashton. Why be so petty?" "Mom and Dad never knock on your door at home, do they? They just barge right in." "Why are you being so dramatic now? It's not like you're coming into my room." So he knew. No one in our family ever respected my boundaries. They barged into my space whenever they felt like it. But when it came to Caleb, they knocked gently and waited for his permission. "Get out!" "This is my dressing room. I want to be alone." Caleb curled his lip, completely brushing off my warning. Instead, he pulled the door open even wider. He whined loudly into the hallway: "I tried talking to him, but he’s ignoring me! What else am I supposed to do?" "Chloe, Mom, Dad... you talk to him!"The three of them bustled in at once. Mom and Dad started in with the exact same routine: "Caleb is younger, he's just playful! He only chimed in at the ceremony for a laugh. You're the older brother, cut him some slack." "Exactly. We're family! That’s how it’s always been. Why are you suddenly throwing a fit on your wedding day?" Even Chloe chimed in, glaring at me with disappointment: "Ashton, Caleb is your brother. I love you, which means I love your family." "You're older than him, why take it so seriously? He came in here to smooth things over, so grow up and forgive him. Stop being so selfish, okay?" I looked at Chloe, a profound chill settling over my heart. She claimed she loved me, but she couldn't see my hurt or humiliation. In fact, she was forcing me to endure more of it. A sudden, hollow laugh escaped my lips. It hit me. Chloe and I were truly over. Seeing me smile, Chloe actually assumed I was backing down. She turned around to wave Caleb over from the corner, playing peacemaker. "Caleb, come apologize to your brother. See? Ashton is reasonable after all." Caleb tossed whatever was in his hands onto the couch and dragged his feet over: "My bad, okay? Sorry for ruining your mood. Thanks for forgiving me." But my eyes darted to the couch, noticing something off. "What did you just throw?" Caleb froze, instinctively tucking his right hand behind his back. I stepped toward the couch. Tumbled on the cushions was the velvet ring box meant for our wedding bands. The lid was popped open, and the diamond engagement ring was missing. Connecting the dots, I immediately knew what he was doing. I grabbed his wrist and dragged his hand out from behind his back. The custom-designed diamond ring was shoved onto his ring finger! "Caleb, did you steal my wedding ring?" Busted, Caleb yanked his hand away, his face turning red with defensiveness. "Steal? Why do you always use such vile words?" "I just tried it on! I'll take it off and give it back, okay?" His eyes turned red as he began tugging at the band, muttering under his breath: "You're my brother. What's wrong with letting me wear it for a second? First you ruin the ceremony, and now you're yelling at me." "Ow! It hurts! It's completely stuck." He made sure his voice carried across the room. I knew this act wasn't meant for me. It was a performance for his audience. Predictably, the moment Caleb made a show of struggling for the third time, Chloe stepped in to stop him. "Stop pulling, your skin is raw! If you like it that much, Caleb, just keep it." "It’s just a symbol anyway. I’ll buy Ashton a new one later." She turned to me, offering a placating look: "Right, Ashton?""No." "We handpicked that diamond together. I spent an entire month working with the jeweler on the custom band. And you’re just giving it away?” “ Do you care about my feelings at all? What am I supposed to wear at the altar? Thin air?" Chloe choked on her words, caught off guard. Caleb grinned slyly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cheap trinket. "Ashton, look! You won't be empty-handed." "I picked this up at the dollar store earlier. See? It works out perfectly. Nobody will notice from far away anyway. You can just wear this!" I glanced down at the plastic ring in his palm. Flimsy plastic, with sharp, unpolished seams. Trashy, worthless. Just like me—a complete joke. Yet Chloe took it without hesitation and shoved it onto my finger. "See? Caleb is much more considerate than you. He even planned ahead with a backup ring." "It looks fine. No one will be looking closely anyway. Since Caleb loves the diamond ring so much, just let him have it." Mom and Dad chimed in right away: "Exactly! Don't ruin a special day over something so small. You're his brother, why can't you share? He's family!" "Caleb is younger. You've given him so many things over the years, what's one more ring?" "Alright, put your jacket back on and get out there. The guests are waiting. Honestly, you're getting so difficult lately." Their voices blurred into a buzzing storm of noise. I took a slow, deep breath, turning my gaze onto Chloe, offering her one final chance. "Chloe, I'm asking you one last time." "Am I really supposed to give up my wedding ring to him?" Chloe caught the dangerous edge in my voice and hesitated. But then Caleb gave her sleeve a gentle, pleading tug, and she caved instantly. "Ashton, you're better than this." "Caleb's finger is swollen. Just let him have it. I promise, tomorrow! Tomorrow I'll take you to get a bigger, more expensive one!" I smiled bitterly. Tomorrow? Chloe, there is no tomorrow for us. Before I could speak, another knock came at the door. It was our wedding planner. "Ashton, are you in there?" "We were setting up the wedding favors, but something is wrong. The name printed on the boxes... it's your brother's!" I swung the door wide. The planner rolled in a cart of gift boxes. Embossed in gold on every single box were the names: [Chloe & Caleb] Caleb didn't expect to be caught red-handed. He glared at the planner, muttering under his breath: "Didn't I tell you to just hand them out quietly? It was a simple typo, why make a scene?" Then he pivoted back to me, wrapping his arms around mine with a cheesy grin: "Ashton, I'm sorry!" "I really am! I accidentally gave the printer the wrong name, and they rushed production. I was scared you'd yell at me, so I just thought we could give them out anyway..." A cold laugh tore from my throat as I shook him off. "The printer requires three separate confirmations before production. Are you telling me you accidentally submitted your own name three times?" "Do you really think I'm that stupid, Caleb?" Seeing that his lies were useless, Caleb resorted to his usual theatrics. "Fine, if you don't believe me, what do you want me to do?" "You just want to believe I'm evil! We can't reprint them now anyway! If you're going to keep attacking me, I might as well just jump! I'll pay with my life, happy now?" With that, Caleb lunged toward the open window of the second-floor dressing room, threatening to throw himself out. "Don't stop me!" "Ashton wants me dead, so let me die!"Caleb wept hysterically, tears streaming down his face. He yanked the curtains, dangling his torso over the sill. Yet his grip on the frame remained rock-solid as he looked back at me, weaponizing his fake suicide attempt. Naturally, none of them were going to let him fall. Mom and Dad grabbed his arms while Chloe wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, shielding him like a precious treasure. Chloe whipped her head toward me and screamed: "Ashton! Are you heartless? Apologize to Caleb right now!" "He's your brother! Why do you always have to push him to the brink? Will you only be satisfied when he's dead?" Chloe glared at me. Mom and Dad glared at me. As if I—the groom whose tuxedo was stolen, whose ring was swiped, whose name was wiped from his own wedding—was the villain. Through his wet lashes, Caleb flashed me a smirk of pure triumph. An overwhelming exhaustion crashed over me. I was bone-tired. I didn't care about who was right or wrong anymore. I gave a slight, mock bow toward Caleb. "I'm sorry, Caleb." "I'm a terrible older brother for not giving you everything. Please come down. It's all my fault." Satisfied with his victory, Caleb allowed himself to be hauled inside with a dramatic sniffle. Mom, Dad, and Chloe swarmed him, wiping his tears and cooing words of comfort. When he finally stopped crying, he cast a smug glance in my direction. "Fine, fine. I forgive Ashton." "He's my brother, after all. I could never stay mad at him. But the wedding isn't over yet! Have the makeup artist fix his face so he doesn't embarrass our family and Chloe." That earned him endless praise from my parents and Chloe, marveling at how "mature" and "forgiving" he was compared to me. Gradually, the chaos quieted down. This pathetic farce of a wedding was apparently supposed to proceed. Mom escorted Caleb out first, shooting me a disgusted scowl on her way through the door. "I don't know what kind of brother you are. Caleb is younger than you, yet he's ten times more sensible!" Dad instructed the staff to just hand out the gift boxes with Caleb's name printed on them. Soon, only Chloe and I remained in the dressing room. She let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Ashton, I honestly don't know what got into you today. The stylist will be in to touch up your makeup in a minute. Get your jacket on, and let's finish the ceremony." She turned on her heel to leave. I couldn't stop myself from calling after her: "Chloe." She paused, glancing over her shoulder. "Do you have anything else to say to me?" Chloe hesitated for a beat before lecturing me one last time: "Stop brooding, Ashton. You're the older brother. It's your job to compromise." She walked out and clicked the door shut. I stood there, utterly speechless. A light knock at the door pulled me back to reality, and the stylist slipped in. "Ashton, please close your eyes. Let me cover up those tear tracks with some foundation." I raised a hand, stopping her, and looked her in the eye. "Don't bother. This morning at the hotel, you didn't mistake him for me, did you?" "Who authorized putting the groom's tux and makeup on Caleb?" The stylist looked uncomfortable, but under my steady gaze, she finally confessed: "Your brother wanted to play groom." "And... Chloe approved it. She told me to play along so you wouldn't find out." I wasn't surprised. It was completely on-brand for them. But the agony hit anyway, a suffocation so sharp it stole my breath. She lifted the sponge again, trying to help. "Please, let me touch you up. You won't look your best at the altar..." I tilted my head away. "I won't need it." She blinked. "You're going out there in a tuxedo without styling?" I shook my head, grabbed my duffel bag, and stood up. "No. I'm not wearing the tuxedo either." "I'm leaving." I offered the stunned stylist a warm, genuine smile. In twenty-seven years of living, it was the most liberating decision I had ever made. I walked out of the dressing room without looking back, hailed a cab to my apartment, grabbed my passport and documents, and left. I didn't even pack a change of clothes. Why bother taking clothes Caleb had already picked through? I went straight to the airport. I didn't care about the destination. I just asked the counter agent for a ticket on the very next departing flight. A second before boarding, my phone buzzed violently with texts from Chloe. Each one more frantic than the last: [Ashton, the stylist said you walked out! Stop throwing a fit!] [Where are you? Answer me!] [Do you want to get married or not?! Get your ass back here right now!] I stared at the screen for two seconds before pressing and holding the power button. Chloe, I don't want to marry you. And I am never coming back.