Why Did Everyone I Loved Call Me a Slut?

I took time off work to serve as maid of honor at the wedding of my childhood best friend, Wendy Moore.

She had prepared an extravagant welcome for me: the latest smartphone, designer perfume, and several other luxury gifts.

"These are just little gifts for you. I may be getting married, but you're still the most important person in my life!"

I was so touched that I nearly cried.

The next morning, I got up early, put on my bridesmaid dress, and headed to Wendy's suite at the countryside estate where the wedding was being held.

Wendy was sitting in front of the vanity while her makeup artist worked on her.

The moment she saw me, she turned around with an excited smile and waved me over.

But as soon as I approached, her expression turned ice-cold.

"You slut. Get the hell out of my wedding!"

I froze.

"Wendy, are you joking? Come on, it's your wedding day. Stop messing around. You're scaring me."

I forced out an awkward laugh, hoping she'd tell me it was all some kind of prank.

I even stepped closer and reached for her shoulder.

But Wendy immediately stepped back.

"Who's joking? Get out. Or I'll call security."

My hand hung in the air.

My mind went completely blank. I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong.

Even when Wendy grabbed her phone, I still had no idea what was happening.

I struggled to catch my breath.

"Did I do something wrong? Is there some wedding tradition I'm not familiar with? Did I accidentally offend someone?"

I hurried to add, "If I did, I'll apologize. Please don't be mad."

Wendy had moved across the country to be with her husband, Mark. Maybe there were customs here that I didn't know about.

That thought gave me something to hold on to.

I looked at her sincerely. "Just tell me what I did."

Wendy glared at me.

"There are no traditions involved. I'm only being polite by not spelling everything out for you."

Then she raised her voice.

"Security! Get her out of here! I never want to see her again!"

Yesterday, we'd been lying on the same bed, laughing about all the ridiculous things we'd done growing up.

She'd even felt bad about how exhausted I was from traveling and booked me a separate room so I could get some rest.

We'd barely been apart for a few hours.

How could she have changed so completely?

When the security guards approached, I shook my head and looked at Wendy desperately.

"I honestly don't know what I did wrong. You won't even tell me why you're angry."

I swallowed hard, trying to hold back my panic.

"I'm sorry, okay? But this is the most important day of your life. Please don't kick me out. I'm your only bridesmaid. What are you going to do if I leave?"

Before I could finish, Wendy stormed over and grabbed my dress.

"Take it off!"

She shoved the makeup artist aside.

"Any woman can be a bridesmaid. It's not like you're irreplaceable. Sylvia, hurry up and get out! I don't have time to waste on you. My makeup isn't even finished, and you're already ruining my wedding!"

She spat the last word at me.

"You slut!"

I clutched my dress with both hands, trying to keep her from pulling it off me.

But it was the word "slut" that finally drained every bit of strength from my body.

I stared at Wendy helplessly.

Then I took out the handmade embroidered veil accessory I'd spent several sleepless nights making for her and carefully placed it on the vanity.

"Congratulations on your wedding. I'll return the bridesmaid dress later."

Wendy snatched up the gift.

For a moment, I thought she'd finally softened.

I hurried to explain.

"I worked so hard on this. I even burned my fingers while making it. I chose this design because I know you love it."

The next second, she slammed it against the floor.

The delicate embroidery and all the details I'd worked so hard on were ruined.

She pointed at the door.

"Get out!"

I returned to my room, changed out of the bridesmaid dress, and sent Wendy a message.

[I'm still at the estate. If you need anything, just call me.]

A red exclamation mark appeared.

The message hadn't gone through.

Wendy had blocked me.

I collapsed onto the bed, completely defeated.

I couldn't understand why any of this was happening.

But before I could even process it, another shock came.

Wendy had ordered security to escort me off the property.

I dragged my suitcase outside and stood in the cold, staring at the wedding photos displayed near the entrance.

Finally, I called Mark.

I just wanted to know what had happened. Even if they hated me, I wanted to know why.

The call connected.

Mark had always been polite and courteous whenever we'd met.

But this time, his voice was full of contempt.

"You actually have the nerve to call me? Wendy is unlucky enough to have a slut like you for a friend. Just get lost!"

The call ended.

I stood there holding the phone, the same word still ringing in my ears.

Wendy had called me that.

Now Mark had called me that.

Neither of them had told me why.